#ch: the parasite

[venillopewrites]

I love your story concept 😍😍🤗🤗 are there interesting facts the parasite

🖤🖤🖤 Thank you, love!

Doesn't need to eat, but has a strong affinity for Earthen bread and pasta.

Its surface feels like velvet, if that velvet was pulled around a water balloon.

The air on Earth hurts it a lot before it manages to adapt.

While basically a blob of fluid, it can create bones and eyes if it's called for. It just doesn't need them most of the time.

Loves when the host is having dreams since it doesn't sleep and nights are boring otherwise.

If it's feeling nice, it can mend many internal and external injuries the host receives.

Enjoys TV.

BONUS

The color of the 'eyes' it conjures are best described as exploding stars.

[galedekarios]

Oh, and before you think you're about to embark on a journey with most ill-mannered a man: thank you for pulling me out of that stone.

[streetchicken]

What I imagine the Polish Experience™ to look like

Yes, that's the Polish Cow meme on his hoodie

[compressednerve]

Extremely inscrutable punnett square from last month. I don't... recall what any of the letters stood for.

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi - Bits about Familiars (Bonus Fleki's Familiar Trip)

(From the Adventurer's Bible Glossary) Summoning Spells There are three types of summoning spell. One controls existing spirits or Monsters, while another turns plants and animals into monsters and controls them. The third uses foodstuffs and the caster's hair to create familiars from scratch. Maizuru's Technique of using patterns and curses to summon the hag and bull demon shikigami is a type of summoning Spell.

Sources and recommended reading for more info on Familiars: Adventurer's Bible | ch 48 - Familiar | ch 76 - Lord of the Dungeon II | ch 79 - Parasites | Familiars Monster Tidbits

The summary of my understanding is that

Summoned creatures can be considered Familiars, same with the ones that are created by the summoner examples are Holm's Undyne/Gnome, Fleki's crow, Pattadol's Fairy, Marcille's Familiars

They are able to control some familiars by creating a mental connection to them, so they may be able to access the Familiars sense's with the downside that they are also damaged the same way the Familiar is examples: Marcille's Familiars, Fleki comatose state, Thistle's eye's of the magician, the canaries getting sick from Laios' Party.

Seems like a dangerous type of magic use, for the caster especially in the case of controlling them themselves, so no wonder they need proper qualification.

[oceantornadoo]

ch 1 of the wrong john: masterlist | next

john price x f!reader (johnny's twin)

--

You figure one whiskey in the fancy bar across from your hotel can’t hurt.

Johnny put you up in a nice hotel, considerate with all the travel and logistics it took to get here. Two days of your PTO gone, an almost-argument with the gate agent who lost your luggage, chasing down an AirTag with said luggage, and a very uncomfortable taxi ride. But it was fine. It was for Johnny.

Johnny: the brother, the twin, you hadn’t seen face-to-face in over a year. The one who got in a screaming match with your Catholic family last Christmas over who he can love. Nevermind the sacrifices he makes for the safety of the world, it’s where he puts his dick that matters to them. You told him it was bullshit and thus remained the only family member he contacts. You were worried for a second that he’d group you in with them, would sever your holy twin connection for it, but you should have remembered who you were thinking about. If anything, you’d do that to Johnny before he did it to you, a fact you both pretended did not exist. That scrappy self-awareness that somehow only you had been born with, mistaking protection with isolation. So when he said he had a slow week, said he had a partner (a boyfriend!) he wanted you to meet, you couldn’t say no. That was as good as siding with your family.

The meeting was tomorrow (“1000 sharp, m'eudail. Come t’ base an’ we’ll show ye around. Yer gonna love Simon, ‘es all claws like you.”) For the oddest reason, you were nervous. It wasn’t like Johnny needed his family’s approval, if anything, you needed to meet the approval of his found family. The one he created when he left, the one he was slowly opening to you like a secret garden. One sense of a parasite and the gate would be locked forever. He never said as much, too happy-go-lucky for that, but you could sense the protectiveness behind his words during glitchy monthly phone calls. “Price, Gaz, an’ there’s the L.T. Calls himself Ghost but ‘es more bark tha’ bite. You’ll see, m'eudail.” And so you ordered a whiskey to quell the nerves.

“Miss, a drink for you.” The bartender placed a gin and tonic down that was certainly not what you ordered. “I’m sorry, I wanted a whiskey? You can take this back, I haven’t touched it, I swear.” He shook his head, reaching down to grab a whiskey glass. “‘S from the gentleman on the corner. Told me to say our gin is better than our whiskey, which I disagree with, but whatever pays the tips.” He placed a glass of whiskey (on the rocks) in front of you. “Both are on the house, courtesy of your admirer. Let me know if ya need anything or he bothers you.” You nodded your thanks, glancing around for this mystery man. The bar wasn’t too packed but with a game of football on, there were more single men than not.

Finally, you felt a pair of eyes on you, sticking to the back of your head like honey. You turn and there he is, icy blue eyes and a lumberjack look, bearded in flannel. He’s broad and he knows it, carrying himself with the grace of self-confidence. To add to it, he’s sitting alone in a back corner table, perfect view of all exits (like how Johnny told you to look for one tipsy night eons ago.) When you catch his eyes, he raises a glass, giving you a glimpse of hands you want to examine. Are they soft or worn? What about his beard? You promised yourself a drink to settle you nerves, a bubble bath and lights out before 11, but he’s throwing a wrench into your plans. It feels like foreshadowing, to what you don’t know.

“Bit rude to tell the bartender you don’t like his whiskey. Doesn’t give a good first impression.” Somehow, your feet took you over to his table without your permission. You’re standing while he’s sitting and somehow you’re still tilting your head to meet his eyes. They’re darker than they were on first glance, swimming with something that sends a shiver down your spine. You purposefully take a sip of whiskey, your gin and tonic abandoned at the bar, to will that feeling away.

“Jus’ givin’ some advice to a pretty traveler. Can’t have y’ thinkin’ this part of London has no drinks f’ a woman like you.” You find a gray hair in his beard and track it to the curve of his lips as he speaks, taking in the small details you couldn’t see from the bar. Like the way his eyes crinkle in a world-weary manner or the gruffness of his tone, like he’s used to giving orders rather than initiating conversation. It’s your new mission to unpeel the layers of this man tonight.

“And how did you know I’m a traveler? Could be a local for all you know.” He snorts, and in any other man, the arrogance would put you off, but it’s somehow attractive on him. “Well, sweetheart, everyone’s payin’ attention t’ Arsenal playin’ an’ y’ve barely given ‘em a glance. And any local worth their salt knows the whiskey here is watered down an’ grimy.” You take a sip of your drink, again, to prove a point, biting back a grimace at the taste. You can’t let him win.

“Does that make you a local?” Gracefully, he ignores how you could barely swallow down the last drop in your cup. Instead of answering, he signals the bartender for two gin and tonics, then gestures at you to sit in the other seat at his table. His silent command, and consequential dismal of your question, pulls at a string in your belly you didn’t know existed. Perhaps it’s the whiskey.

“Nah, ‘v been around. Been in London for work a while an’ hav’ learned about whiskey choices the hard way. And you? Not from ‘ere, can tell by the accent.” You write that down in your imaginary notebook, hoping a whiskey enthusiast doesn’t equal a reliance on alcohol. You’re fast to determine red flags, especially with strangers. “From Scotland but haven’t been home in a while so the accent’s a bit over the place. What’s your work?”

He takes a sip of the newly arrived gin and tonic, savoring the taste with his tongue. It darts out to catch a drop the edge of his lip and you’re hit with visions of where else he could put it. God, you don’t even know his name yet. “Security consultant. Protectin’ whatever they pay me to protect. An’ you?” It’s a lie. His eyes don’t stray from your face but your bullshit-o-meter is ringing somewhere. You let him have it, deciding a lie for a lie is the best way to go.

“I’m interviewing with a company around here, so I’m currently in between jobs. But I trade in corporate bullshit.” He chuckles, smooth and low like good whiskey, and it’s enough that you forgive the lie, letting it gather dust in the back of your mind. “My name’s John, sweetheart. An’ yours?” You murmur it sweet and slow, fluttering your lashes to lock in the deal. It’s near 10 now, and you don’t want to be yawning when you meet Johnny tomorrow. You have a feeling the man in front of you could keep you up all night if you let him.

John pulls your chair into his until your thighs are slotted in between each other like puzzle pieces. “Got any plans tonight?” You shake your head no, pressing your leg into his own. The harsh denim of his jeans scrapes against your well-worn ones, reminding you of how rugged he seems. You want to see how untamed he can be, and your panties dampen at the thought.

“Well, John,” you overemphasize the last syllable of his name to make sure he’s paying attention. “My hotel is across the street if you need to expand your London knowledge. Really give you that local aura.” His thumb grazes your knee, stroking against the grain pattern. “Sounds good t’ me, sweetheart. Let’s give it a go.”

–

Few thoughts:

m'eudail - my darling, my dear

The base is on the outskirts of London but the hotel is in the city because I said so.

I don’t know anything about London football, Arsenal was the first team that showed up. Thanks google

This was all build up but the next chapter will have some smut! 

This is more for a plot based audience so here’s my AO3 if you’d like to subscribe

Comment if you want to be tagged 🙂

[magua-vida]

Ch. 2- The Urchin, another fan Princess someone asked. She's the start of a route that's themed around parasitic draining relationships, may or may not bite.

[latenightdaydreams]

will there ever be an update to the trucker konig series?

Yes! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me!

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part 5 (fem)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4

Final Part

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫Massive Triggers for self harm.🚫

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, self harm, cptsd, breastmilk

2.6k word count

🚚

Tag list: @vivasab0tage, @teddy2510, @nexthyperfix, @nachofriess, @mariapallett, @prettystrangething, @smolduck126, @vampie-com, @sagedbelladonna

.

.

Now you’re eight months pregnant. The reality that you might have this baby with König weighs heavily on you. His paranoia has gotten so much worse since seeing the flier. He’s blacked out all the windows in the bedroom. Day in and day out, you sit in darkness other than a single lamp. He doesn’t let you leave the top floor of the house anymore, and you spend most of your days in the bedroom. Dark circles have formed under your eyes and your body has grown weaker.

This morning, König comes in and removes your restraints, bringing you to his bathroom. He turns on the shower and pulls your stained night gown over your head.  His hand goes to your breast instantly and squeezes some milk out. A smile crosses his lips as he leans in and latches to you, squeezing your breast while he sucks.

The sweet milk filling his mouth make his moan, his cock getting hard in his pants. “I’m going to have to keep you pregnant. I can’t go without this.” His lips wrap back around your nipple and sucks.

König pulls his head back with a pop, milk still spraying from your nipples. He wipes his face before opening the shower curtains and gesturing you to enter.

“Clean yourself well. The doctors coming and I want him to see how well I keep you.”

Once in the shower you roll your eyes. König times you on how long you can take in here, so you quickly wash your body. He doesn’t allow you time to enjoy it. When you step out, he has to be the one to dry you before picking you back up and bringing you to the bed room. On the bed was a beautiful lavender maternity shirt and a pair of maternity leggings. König puts you down on your feet for you to get dressed.

“You look so beautiful, Maus. Our baby boy will be here sooner than you think.” König’s voice was cheerful. His eyes scanned your pregnant body up and down like a hungry wolf.

Your tired eyes meet his, you give him a weak smile. Once dressed, you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The person you see staring back at you isn’t someone you recognize. You look as if you’re wasting away, the large parasite inside of you transforming your body into one you don’t recognize. The light in your eyes is gone, leaving behind an empty dead stare. Mirrors have become your enemy.

König walks up behind you and hugs you, his hands caressing your large swollen belly. His touch sends chills up your spine. You just want to be free.

“Remember to smile.” He whispers in your ear.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. König gives you a look, as if you should be on your best behavior, before turning and going downstairs to open the door. You walk over to the bed and lay down. His bed is much nicer than the one he has for you in your room.

“Mom is in here.” König says opening his bedroom door and in came the man with him. König has never told you his name, but to just call him doctor.

“How are you doing, y/n?” The doctor asks as he sets up his equipment on the dresser near the bed.

“I’ve been well.” You smile cheerfully and look at König to make sure you’re doing well.

“Good. Have you been feeling a lot of activity?”

The doctor sits on a chair next to your bed and lifts your shirt. He squeezes out blue gel on your stomach, placing the ultrasound transducer on to your stomach and spreads the gel around.

“Yes. He’s very active.” You watch the doctor's every move.

On the small screen you can see the shape of your baby. Usually, a mother would love to see this, but you can’t bear to look at the screen. König’s blue eyes were gleaming with happiness as the doctor checked the baby; all he does is tell you how long he’s waited to be a dad.

The doctor pulls away and König hands you a towel to wipe your stomach off with. They spoke about the due date approaching and my birth plan. At home, only König and the doctor. You lower your shirt but stay laying in his bed.

With a hand extended, the doctor comes over to say goodbye to you. “I’ll see you again in a few weeks. Hopefully, the baby will be ready to come.”

“Yes! That would be very good.” König interjects and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to walk him out, Maus. I’ll be back.”

König left you alone in the room. You just lie there relaxing. It feels nice to be in a comfortable bed, no restraints. No restraints…

Thoughts flood your mind when you decide that this is the exact moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re too weak to get up and run away, but you still have one option for escape. Planting your feet firmly on the ground, you pull your body up from the bed. The room is peaceful. The walls were a deep blue with the bright sun coming in through the windows.

You walk up to the window and open in, breathing in the fresh air you’ve been missing the past few months. The sun hits your skin, closing your eyes and letting the breeze blow over your face. Tears forming in your eyes as you open them. Thoughts of the family you left back home flood your mind, you’ll never see them again.

Without closing the window, you walk away and leave his room. Your steps are quiet, making sure König can’t hear you. You walk to the top of the staircase, looking to the left you can see into the nursery. A stuffed wolf is sitting on the rocking chair. Your gaze lingers on it before you close your eyes and let yourself fall forward.

König hears a loud crashing sound. Panic consumes his body as he turns and runs from the kitchen. At the bottom of the staircase, he sees you, face down and blood surrounding your body. Tears form in König’s eye as he kneels in front of you and touches your pulse. You’re still alive.

“You have to take her to the hospital.” The doctor said, König knew he was right.

You wake up, bright lights consume your vision. The sound of machines beeping and a hand on your arm fully wakes you up. The cold hand causes you to jump, looking over to see a woman wearing green scrubs. Her brown hair in a ponytail with a neutral look on her face.

“How are you feeling sweetie?” She was fluent in your native language. “I’m nurse Lena. I’ve been taking care of you.”

“My head hurts…” Your voice sounds strained.

“Yeah, it sounds like you had quite the fall.”

“She did, she scared me so much. I’m thankful that she and my boy are okay.” König’s voice cuts in as you feel his hand on your knee.

The look on your face alerts the nurse. Instantly, your eyes widen and your bottom lip begins to tremble. Your heart rate begins to speed and the monitors pick it up. Lena looks from you to König.

“Good thing your husband was there to find you in time.”

You look straight ahead and don’t say anything. Lena studies your face, the way you seem to dissociate. She sees the bruises on your wrist and ankles, bite marks on your neck and arms. She covers you with a blanket and hands you the remote to call for a nurse or turn the lights on and off before leaving you alone with König.

Once alone you can feel the tension in the room change drastically. König’s eyes bore into you, anger bubbling to the surface.

“What the fuck was that about?!” He snaps.

You look over to him and freeze, the anger in his eye is worse than when you ran away. There is nothing you can say that would make this any better. You know once you get back into his hands, you’re going to be in trouble.

“You could have killed my fucking son!” His voice booms louder than he meant for it to. It took everything in him to not strike you right now.

Tears begin to burn your eyes as you frown. “I’m sorry.”

König walks closer to you and puts his finger in your face. “You’re going to fucking regret this. I’ll make sure you can’t ever get up and walk again.” His voice is a terrifying, low growl.

Before he can continue, Lena walks back in. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave for this test. Only doctors and nurses can be in the room to remain sterile.”

König looked suspicious of her words, but bent down to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Don’t say a word.”

“I love you Liebling.” He squeezes your hand once more before walking away.

His heart is in his stomach as he leaves. Once through the doors, he sees hospital security waiting. Calmy, giving them kind smiles as he keeps walking past them. König isn’t stupid. He is aware of what is about to happen.

Without a second, though, König keeps walking. He gets to the elevator and presses for the garage. Looking at him, you wouldn’t guess he was panicking on the inside. It felt as if everything was crashing around him. His perfect wife, his son, his online audience, all gone. He has to start over again.

Once in the garage, he rushes to his car, dropping his cell phone on the ground and stomping it before getting into the car and speeding out. Tears swell in his eyes as he realizes he will never see his son.

“FUCK!” He shouts and punches the passenger's headrest out of anger.

In the room, Lena sits with you and looks into your eyes. “Are you safe?”

A wide frown appears across your face as tears stream from your eyes. You shake your head no.

“Is that man really your husband?”

“No.” Your voice shakes as you try to hold back sobs.

“Do you need help?”

“Please, yes. Please.” You grab your hair, pulling at it, as you sob. A huge mix of emotions overwhelms you as you realize you did it. You’re really safe.

Lena hugs you and tries to soothe you by rubbing your back. You wrap your arms around her, clinging to her for dear life. As much as she tries, there is no holding back the immense amount of sympathy she feels for you and cries with you.

“You’re safe now. I promise.” Lena’s voice cracks.

The door opens and security walks inside. They heard the sobs through the door. Lena turns her head to face them and nods to confirm her suspicions. They quickly talk on the radio to raise the alarm to not let the tall man with scars on his face leave. A guard stands at your door as others search for him.

“A social worker and police will come to talk to you, okay?” Lena pulls back and wipes her tears away.

“I don’t want this baby.”

Her eyes drop to your stomach and she nods. “We can set up an adoption plan for after birth.”

Hours pass when cops along with the social worker come walking into the room. Their faces are serious. One cop with hazel eyes and brown hair sits in front of you. He looks at you, looking at all the bite marks and bruises on your body. In his hand is a manila folder filled with paperwork. Finally, he speaks.

“I’m Officer Hauser. I’m here to ask you a few things to better help you. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out a photo from the folder and it’s of König’s truck. Your heart sinks as you just look at the photo. Your heart rate is picking up. The social worker walks over to you and offers you her hand to hold for support.

“Do you recognize this truck?”

“Y-yes.”

Officer Hauser nods and pulls out another photo of König, but in a military uniform.

“Is this the man that was here with you?”

“Yes.” You can feel the woman’s hand squeeze yours.

“You’re doing great.” She whispers to you.

“We believe you were one of multiple victims of an ex KorTac Colonel named Alexander J. König.” Officer Hauser speaks up. “He was said to have been KIA, but it appears that is false.”

“Did- did you arrest him?” The look in your eyes is so hopeful.

The officer clears his throat and looks from you to the social worker. He is trying to think of a way to say this.

“We haven’t been able to locate him. He’s disappeared. Every country has eyes out looking for him. We will find him. I promise.”

When you heard that every country was looking for him, you felt confident that he would be caught soon. Days passed, weeks, months; still no word on where König is. Labor and delivery went smoothly. Lena the nurse came in on her day off to support you through the labor and passing the child over to the social worker. You did what is best for you both.

It’s now been ten years since the whole ordeal with König. You’ve been in therapy, went back to school, met the love of your life, and settled down. It feels like a whole different life now. That person that was held captive is gone. You’re truly healing deep down inside.

Today is a warm day with a cooling breeze. You sit outside and close your eyes, taking in deep breaths. For a moment, you were your younger self standing by the window and taking what you thought would be your last breath of fresh air. A wave of anxiety crushes you and you begin to breath heavily. Thoughts of the son you gave up, he would be ten this year.

Just as your thoughts begin to spiral, you jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. You look up to see your partner, Sam. They look down at you with a worried look in their eyes. One of their hands comes up and caresses the side of your face.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam crouches down in front of you, grabbing your hand to hold. “Talk to me.”

“I just…I had almost, like, a flash back…to—” Your voice trembles.

“You don’t have to say it, I know.” Their thumb caresses your hand. “You’re here with me. You’re safe. Remember that.”

“I got a letter in the mail today.” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“Yeah? What was it?” Sam tilts their head.

“They found König.” Your eyes meet theirs. Sam's mouth drops open from surprise.

“How do you feel?”

“It feels like I can finally relax. Well, it did. I have to go back and testify. I have to see him again.”

“Oh, y/n.” Sam grabs you and holds you in a tight hug. “You’ve got this. I’ll be with you every part of the way.”

“Thank you.”

Six months later, you sit in front of a courtroom. Your eyes meet his familiar pale blue eyes. König scowls, looking at you with immense rage. You look back, showing no fear. He is nothing but a pathetic broken man who will die alone. Everything he did to you did not break you. You’re still here- thriving, all despite König.

[pppppp60777]

Old grumpy medic and his the most dangerous parasite that can kill him in less an hour pet.

( @daylesspax )

Pest seems to be a little clingy today

I just marathon read Exception today, and I have been screaming for an hour now. Thank you for your good fic.

Me after reading ch.18

Pest...

[elainemg97]

Azriel can smell the bond? Ramblings

Adding to this reply from @nikethestatue

- We know Nessian's bond didn't merge until Winter Solstice night when they fully accepted eo and slept together (they never had a snapping/ click moment). We know the only person who smelled it was Lanthys who was a death god.

- We also know that Feysand had a snapping bond but no one could smell it except Amren cause she was “other". The others finally were able to smell it after the bond became a living thing (2nd bond) and merged in ch 55 when Feyre rode him to erase the memory of Amarantha, they unleashed both of their powers and Feyre began to glow.

- We also know that Elain/Lucien have the same snapping moment/bond as Feysand so it is likely that no one can smell the bond since it's not accepted and they've had o physical intimate interactions.

- So it is strange that Azriel can smell the Elucien bond unless he's also connected to Elain in some way (2nd bond?). It’s clear the bond makes him ill or uncomfortable, so maybe it’s some sort of parasite making them both (Elain and Az) uncomfortable. Az never smelled Feysand’s bond so why can he smell Eluciens?

[venillopewrites]

Can we have some fun facts about the characters? Thanks!!

👀 Yes!

The Parasite.

Loves scaring people because humans have the funniest reactions.

It can shrug off a direct hit by a ballistic missile without complaints but god forbid it has to be in contact with water.

It's favorite human brain chemical is noradrenaline. Makes it feel fuzzy and charged up.

N.

A massive green thumb. Their apartment is filled with a myriad of different flora that shouldn't even survive indoors.

Total health nut. It would take a lot for them to willingly put anything unhealthy in their body, but chili nuts and rum are exceptions.

Wears reading glasses even if more high tech options are available.

E.

100% a cat person. Is allergic to cats.

Hates space, which is funny because their job mostly centers around space-specific crime and combat.

Before the high-tech eye implants by the courtesy of IBIS, they had the civilian versions that got hacked and so had to deal with raunchy pop-ups for a week. It was hell.

Shiba.

Very big on the 'organized chaos' method when it comes to their room and apartment. It's a mess.

Spends so much time at ReBar that some people mistake them for the owner when they're just there for the curly fries and best network connections.

A spice fiend. Could probably eat a ghost pepper without flinching. If they share their food with you, don't, unless you want your taste buds to evaporate.

[aces-personal-whore]

Doflamingo x Defiant!Reader Smut Ch. 1

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Hello, friends! Welcome to my new Doffy fanfic! This story takes a bit of a different direction from my last fanfiction. Instead of being subordinate, you are resistant and defiant towards Doffy. Reader is AFAB. Second person POV for this story! Doflamingo is very assertive and holds true to his personality (the cocky asshole we all love). A lot of fanfics I've read don't really tap into his true personality and make him incredibly out of character or in an alternate universe type thing where he falls for the reader, so I'm here to write about Doffy and what he would realistically do in the situations I've put him in. Reader is assumed to be the same age as myself (26), but age is never mentioned.

☣️WARNINGS: NONCON/RAPE, NSFW, MDNI, smut, assault, sexual assault

Themes in this chapter: NONCON/RAPE, Aggressive domination, forced submission, forced creampie, breeding, inflation, mild BDSM, degradation

Notes: PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THERE IS NONCON/RAPE THROUGHOUT THIS ENTIRE FANFICTION. THIS FANFICTION IS VERY GRAPHIC AND MAY BE TRIGGERING, UPSETTING, OR DISTRESSING TO SOME READERS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!

P.S. I'm sorry if I forgot to change any pronouns/names/etc. ;-; I did my best, okay.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Chapter 1]

You had a few errands to run today. You threw on your favourite dress, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. Dressrosa was a very lovely place, and you enjoyed living there. Your mom brought you guys here a few years ago, and you moved out on your own only last year. You checked your list of things you needed to do for the day: get groceries, get pet food, and check out the new local game store. You began walking to the fresh produce stands in downtown Dressrosa when you felt something like a pinch on the back of your neck, like a mosquito had bit me or something. You brought your hand up to where you felt the pinch to swat away the mosquito, when your body suddenly started moving on its own. You began heading towards the flower hill where the palace is. You tried resisting your body's involuntary movements, panicking, but no matter how much you tried resisting, your body continued forwards towards the castle. "What the fuck is happening?! Why can't I control my body?!" You thought to yourself, your anxiety rising.

From the shadows, Doflamingo had been watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had been watching you for a while, and decided you were the perfect victim. He headed back towards his castle, stringing you along. He stopped at the entrance of his palace overlooking the flower hill as you forcefully approached him.

"Fufufufu~ my, my aren't you just lovely?" Doflamingo flashed his signature smile with his devious laugh, turning around to face you.

You fight the parasite strings Doflamingo had embedded in you, attempting to run away. "What the fuck is going on?! What am I doing here?!" There was a lace of panic in your voice.

"Oh, don't be so jumpy, my dear. I simply find you irresistible, and I want to claim you as mine." Doflamingo casually stated as he watched you struggle.

"Your (h/c) hair, that shade of (e/c) in your eyes, the freckles decorating your skin [a/n: sorry if you don't have freckles ;-;], and that perfect body... You're the most attractive woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

He approached you, making sure to be close enough for you to feel his presence, but not so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

"I have this feeling that you'll make a delightful addition to my collection. So, I'm afraid you'll have to come with me." Doflamingo's smirk deepened, and he gave the strings a light tug, causing you to stumble a bit. "I'm just dying to see if my intuition was right... You're going to be my little project, my most precious and prized possession."

You scowled at Doflamingo as you're brought inside the palace against your will. "Project?! Possession?!"

"That's right, my dear. I can sense your resistance, and that only turns me on more. I want to see you squirm under my control." Doflamingo's grin never faltered as he continued to lead you into his palace. "Now, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. You're already mine, and I shall have my way with you." He chuckled, throwing a glance back at you from time to time, making sure to bask in the sight of your struggle.

You struggled to keep up with Doflamingo and his impressive 10 foot tall stature. You had to practically run to keep up with him. "Like hell I would let you do that shit to me!"

"You're perfect for the role I have in mind, and I'll be sure to reward you for your cooperation." Doflamingo pulled the strings with more force, forcing you to move faster, showing no mercy in dragging you to your new home.

"I'm not doing shit. Fuck you," you spat at Doflamingo, slightly panting from the running.

"Oh, how delightful. You're such a lively specimen, and I can't wait to see what you're truly capable of. You'll be my pet, my little plaything, and I'll make sure to see every single inch of you. You'll come to enjoy it, I assure you. The humiliation, the pain, and the pleasure will all be yours. I'll break you down and build you back up into the perfect host for my offspring." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed with excitement, his voice dripping with malice and lust as he spoke. "And when that day comes, you'll thank me for choosing you."

Doflamingo's words metaphorically made you stop in your tracks, since you had no control over your body. You tried digging your heels in the ground to slow your movements down. Your face was filled with anger and disgust as he spoke. "What the fuck?!" He was treating you like a fucking object.

"Ah, such a feisty one. I'm going to enjoy breaking your spirit and making you mine." Doflamingo manipulated your parasite string, yanking you off your feet and continuing to walk with you dangling in the air. "I've made up my mind, and I'll have what I want. You'll be my precious little project, my own personal pleasure, and I'll mold you into the woman I desire." Doflamingo's smirk never faltered as he continued his stroll through the palace, dragging you behind him. "Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant."

You scoffed at his remarks and scowled at him as you're brought to his personal room, being drug through the air via his strings.

"Here we are, my dear. Your new home." Doflamingo stopped in front of a grand, ornate door, opening it to reveal a lavish room filled with all the luxuries one could imagine. "You'll be pampered, cherished, and cared for like a queen. Of course, I'll have to break you first, but that's just a small price to pay for such bliss, isn't it?"

He dragged you inside, the strings making sure you were right where he wanted you to be. Once you were in the center of the room, he released the strings, letting you fall to the ground with a thud. You stood up, adjusting your dress.

"Now, let's see how you can be shaped into my perfect little prize." Doflamingo's eyes gleamed, and he began to formulate his plans for your transformation. "As I said, I'll reward your cooperation, and I expect you to be a good girl for me. You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you?"

You crossed your arms across your chest, continuing to scowl at him. "Yeah, that's not going to happen," you said with slight annoyance and anger in your voice.

"You're going to make this so much fun." Doflamingo's lips curled into a wicked smile as he approached you, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. "I'll break you, and I'll make you mine. You'll come to see that there's no escape. I am your new master, and you are my new pet. Now, don't make me regret this decision by being a naughty little thing. Cooperate, and I'll give you everything you could ever want."

He stood above you, his hand reaching down for your arm as he prepared to lead you to your first lesson in submission.

You smacked his arm away "Don't fucking touch me!" You glared at him. This only prompted him to be more aggressive with you.

"Ah, you're even more perfect than I imagined." Doflamingo's eyes roamed over your body as he deftly removed your clothes. He admired your body, his eyes lingering on your breasts, your curvy hips, and your round ass, before he finally let his hands explore your skin. "I can't wait to see how you'll look with my child growing inside you, bearing my legacy in the world." Doflamingo's voice had a lustful edge to it as he continued to undress you, leaving you completely exposed before him. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as his hot breath sent shivers down your spine. "We're going to have so much fun."

"STOP... FUCKING... TOUCHING ME!!" you snapped at him, getting angrier by the second. Your anger and defiance continued to only add fuel to the fire.

"Oh, you little slut. You're mine, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you. You don't have a say in any of this, so you better get used to it." He pushed you against the wall, pinning you down with his body.

"Now, you listen to me, you miserable cunt. I'm going to turn you into the perfect little breeding bitch. You'll carry my children and worship the ground I walk on." He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. "And if you don't comply, I'll make you regret the day I took pity on you."

Doflamingo's hand traveled down your body, cupping your breast roughly as he squeezed it, and then moved lower, rubbing your clit. He then thrust a finger into your cunt, still teasing your clit, his other hand holding you in place against the wall. "Now, are we clear on this?" His voice was a dangerous mix of desire and threat, his finger continuing to tease you, the other hand gripping your arm tightly, leaving red marks as he held you.

You winced and panted at Doflamingo's sudden aggression. You looked into your reflection in his sunglasses, and what you saw was yourself glaring at him. "Doflamingo... fucking... STOP." You brought your leg and foot up, placing it on his arm as you attempted to push his hand away from your pussy, kicking at his arm.

"Oh, did you just defy me, you little bitch?" Doflamingo's grip tightened on your arm in response, causing you to yelp in pain. "Now, you listen to me. You don't get to make any decisions here. I decide what happens to you, and you will follow my orders. If you keep pushing me, I'll show you what happens to disobedient slaves." Doflamingo's breathing became heavier, and his touch more insistent, ignoring your attempts to push him away.

"Slave?! I'm not your fucking slave! Stop doing this to me!" Rage was building inside you as he continued to violate your body against your will.

"You're my property, my little breeding bitch. I'll do with you what I please, and you'll submit to my every whim." He continued to tease you, his other hand not letting up on your arm, disregarding your kicks. "You're mine, and I'll break you until you understand your place. You'll learn to love me, to crave my touch, and to worship the ground I walk on."

His grip on your arm left bruises as he maneuvered you to the bed, pushing you down before positioning himself between your legs. "Now, you'll listen to me, and you'll accept your fate as my property. You're mine, and you'll do as you're told." Doflamingo's voice was laced with a mix of desire and menace. "Now, are we clear on this?" His grip on your arm didn't loosen, and his finger returned to your pussy. "You're my breeding bitch now, and you'll serve me to the best of your ability. I will not accept anything less."

Your feet now pressed into his elbow dips in attempt to push him away from the assault he's doing to your body. "Eat shit! I'm not doing anything for you!" Your voice was seething with rage and anger now.

"You really are a stubborn one, aren't you?" Doflamingo let out a sigh. "Fine, if that's how it's going to be." He removed his finger from you, standing up, and then undoing the strings on his pink tiger striped pants. "I'll show you what it's like to be mine, whether you like it or not."

Doflamingo's cock was hard and ready as he moved forward, his eyes locked on yours as he guided it to your entrance. It was much, much bigger than any other cock you've seen "Brace yourself, my dear. This is only the beginning." He began to push inside you.

"GET OFF OF ME!!" Tears began forming in your eyes as you struggled against his advances, trying to push yourself away from him and to get him to not fuck you. "DO NOT PUT THAT INSIDE ME!!" You began panicking as his cock stretched your pussy impossibly wide, causing it to tear and bleed.

"Ah, so feisty. I like that." Doflamingo's grip moved your legs as he forced them apart, tying them down with his devil fruit strings. "You feel so tight, so good. I knew I made the right choice in picking you." He thrust deeper into you, a groan escaping his lips. "Your cunt is unlike any other I've had before. It's perfect." Doflamingo's voice was laced with lust as he began to move faster. "I'm going to fuck this perfect pussy as much as I want, whenever I want. Whether you like it or not."

You groaned in discomfort, tears falling down your cheeks. You panted heavily in exhaustion from struggling against Doflamingo's advances. There was no way you could break free from his strings. They were practically unbreakable.

"There's no use fighting it, my dear. You're mine, and there's no escaping me." Doflamingo's voice was calm and composed, despite the intense pleasure he was deriving from your body.

"Look at you, all flushed and panting. You might hate me now, but you'll soon learn to love this. Your body was made for mine. It's a match made in heaven." Doflamingo's thrusts became slower, more deliberate, as he savoured the feeling of your tightness around him. "Fuck, you feel so good, so perfect. I could fuck you for hours and never get enough." He reached down, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple.

Your body was overflowing with various emotions... You didn't know how to feel. Violated, angry, enraged, unheard... However, despite your anger and hatred, your body responded to his advances. Blood began flowing to your sex organs, involuntarily becoming aroused to accommodate the onslaught of Doflamingo's assault, providing lubrication to ease the pain, in addition to his precum coating your walls. Tears ran down your cheeks as he continued his assault.

"I can see how your body is reacting. It's begging for my seed, isn't it?" Doflamingo's voice was soft and seductive, his grip on your hips never faltering as he continued to toy with you. "Soon you'll be begging for more, to feel my seed inside you."

His thrusts became erratic, his pace growing more intense as he chased his own climax. Doflamingo's teeth were gritted, his eyes locked on yours as he continued to fuck you, the changes in your body only fueling his desire to make you submit to him completely.

"Ah, a new angle might help you reach that orgasm you're so desperately resisting." Doflamingo undid the strings around your legs and pulled out, before pushing you onto all fours, your face pressed into the mattress. He wrapped new strings around your shoulders, securing you in place as you remained face down, your ass in the air.

Doflamingo's thumbs spread your labia, admiring his prize. "Such a tight, wet little cunt. And it's all mine" Doflamingo's cock was eager to enter you again as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to thrust into you from behind, his pace slow and deliberate, savouring the feeling of your tightness around him once more.

"You feel so good, so perfect. I'm going to fuck you until you submit to me completely." Doflamingo's voice was a mix of lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body. His thrusts grew more intense, his grip moving to your hips, never faltering as he continued to fuck you, determined to make you submit to the pleasure he was giving you. "Give in, my dear. You know you want to."

"I refuse!" Doflamingo was really trying to take your orgasm by force. "I'll never give in to you!"

Doflamingo thrusted all the way inside you, holding his position there for a moment, his hands grabbing and groping your ass, eliciting a moan from him. "You feel so good, so perfect. I've never had a pussy this tight before." He began to slowly thrust in and out of you, his hands continuing to grope your ass. Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he continued to take his pleasure from your body, unwilling to let go of you until he made you submit to the pleasure he was giving you.

Doflamingo squeezed your legs and ass cheeks together, his moan echoing in the room as he felt how tight you were around him. "Oh, so fucking tight. I'm going to enjoy this." He pressed your lower body forward, forcing your back to arch, giving him even more access to your tightness.

As Doflamingo's thrusts became more intense, your breath was essentially being knocked out of you with each thrust. You gripped the sheets beneath you.

"I'm going to fuck your perfect cunt as much as I want, and I'm going to cum inside you every single time. It doesn't matter how you feel, what you say, or how you resist. You belong to me, and I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want with you." Doflamingo's voice was filled with dominance and lust as he continued to thrust into you, his pace growing more erratic as he neared his own climax. "Your purpose is to get fucked by me, to carry my lineage. And I'm going to make sure I cum inside you as much as possible to ensure you get pregnant."

"Fuck, I'm going to cum inside your perfect cunt, whether you like it or not!" Doflamingo's voice was filled with lust and dominance as he thrust as deep as he could, his glans lodged in your cervix.

"NO-!! STOP!! DOFLAMINGO STOP!" You fought with all of your might to get away and prevent him from cumming inside you.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going? Like I'd let you escape my pleasure!" He gripped on your shoulders and he forced you back onto his cock. Doflamingo's body began to convulse as he came, his testicles drawing up and tightening, pulsing against your clit with each throb of his cock, pouring massive amounts of his semen into your uterus. You felt yourself fill with his seed, a visible swelling in your lower abdomen as he successfully mated with you.

"Oh, fuck, look at you swell with my seed. It's so goddamn hot." Doflamingo possessively wrapped his hands around your stomach, caressing it as he felt it continue to swell, further prolonging his orgasm, driving him to ejaculate even more inside you.

The sight that unfolded was of Doflamingo's thick cock buried deep inside your tight pussy. Your stomach swelled visibly with the amount of cum he had filled you with, the white fluid leaking out of the corners of your stretched lips, evidence of his claim on you.

His hands cradled your stomach, his fingers splayed over the growing mound as he continued to pump his seed into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he desperately tried to fill you with as much of his essence as possible.

"I love watching your stomach swell with my seed, knowing that it's going to grow my offspring. You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you never forget that." His voice was filled with lust, dominance, and possession as he continued to cum inside you, his grip on your body never faltering as he reveled in the sight of his seed claiming your body as his own.

You continued to grip the sheets beneath you to try and crawl away with the little amount of energy you had left, but the deed had been done. You couldn't escape Doflamingo's grasp or his onslaught of assault. Tears were flowing down your cheeks as reality continued to set in.

Doflamingo's grip on you remained firm as he dislodged his glans from your cervix. His hand traced patterns along your now swollen abdomen, using his devil fruit strings to seal your cervix, sealing his seed inside you, ensuring none would leak out.

"Don't worry, your body will take care of the rest. I've done my part, and now it's up to nature to do its work." Doflamingo's eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a mix of lust, dominance, and satisfaction as he continued to caress your swollen stomach, reveling in the fact that he had successfully mated with you and claimed your body as his own.

"You'll get used to it, and in time, you'll thank me for giving you the opportunity to host my offspring." His grip on you never faltered as he continued to take in the feeling of his seed swelling your stomach, his fingers gently splayed over the mound, as if he were cradling the most precious treasure in the world.

"For now, rest, my dear. You've been through a lot, and you'll need your strength for what's to come." Doflamingo's voice was soft, but there was no doubt about the dominance and ownership in his tone as he continued to revel in his conquest, his possession of you complete.

"You're mine now, whether you want it or not." Doflamingo's words echoed in your mind as he pulled out, removed his strings from your body, and put his clothes back on.

He left the room, leaving you alone, your mind reeling from what had just happened. The thought of being raped crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of violation.

You collapsed onto the bed, your body shaking with a mixture of emotions, from shock to grief. After regaining your strength, you got up, your movements slow and heavy, as if you were walking through molasses.

You approached the mirror, your hands automatically moving to your stomach as you took in your reflection. The swollen abdomen was a stark reminder of what had happened, and your face crumpled as you put your hands to your face, tears flowing unabated.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your heart, and all you could do was cry, the tears a physical manifestation of the turmoil you felt inside. Doflamingo's claim on you was absolute, and for the first time in your life, you were completely at the mercy of another.

[kyanitedragon]

Some more ghoul headcanons:

Stronger ghouls require more food, and weaker ghouls require less. (Ikuma in the novels is pretty weak and says himself he has a small appetite. Versus Rize The Binge-Eater who is incredibly strong, a Washuu, and a natural kakuja. I'm also taking her "I'm not even close to being full!" line in Ch 46.5 at face value.)

Metal (iron) smells really good to ghouls, as it smells like blood

The fresher the meat, the better it tastes. Meat from a fresh kill would taste a lot better than meat from a scavenged corpse. And eating a human alive would be the most pleasurable, which brings a lot of temptation and "excuses" for cruelty.

Ghouls in canon often talk about some meat not tasting good, mostly from humans middle-aged and older. But given that Kaneki says that eating human meat as a ghoul is unlike anything you can eat as a human, even "bad tasting" human meat is still good, if you were to compare it directly to human food. No humans ever taste bad to a ghoul, it would only ever be "not as good". But ghouls don't know this, having nothing else to compare it to, so they simply use the word "bad".

Ghoul stomachs can kill any sort of bacteria or parasite. They have absolutely no risk and can safely eat old rotting meat. (It just won’t taste as good.)

Ghouls can recover entirely from any degree of starvation, as long as they are simply given food. There is no "refeeding syndrome" like in humans. Their bodies will catch up and fully recover with zero consequences.

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 6 COMPLETED

(Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland (DCU), Johanna Constantine/Jenny Green

Rating: Teen & Up | Chapters 6/6 | Words: 12K

Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives

Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5

Read Chapter 6 below, or at the above link on AO3

A year after Hob’s adopted three teenagers and a full grown adult as his unintentional, supernatural crime-solving family, a small Japanese girl walks into his pub covered in glitter and blood.

And she's with Dream , of all people. Dream, who looks like someone had run him through a blender and spat him out the wrong way. He’s not covered in the same glittering blood as his mysterious companion, but his messy black hair is even more wild and unkempt than normal, and the exhausted look on his face tells Hob he’s just gotten himself out of one hell of a situation and needs to talk about it. 

Well, at least the pub was completely empty so that made things easy. Which, now that Hob thinks about it, was probably intentional intervention on Dream’s part.

“Hello old friend,” Hob greets Dream with a wave as they approach the bar, where he’s cleaning and drying off some pint glasses. Hob turns his gaze down towards the girl, who for all intents and purposes appears human, but somehow still looks like someone out of a cartoon with bubblegum pink hair that is definitely not wig, and wide, iridescent blue eyes a shade of blue he’s pretty sure does not exist in normal human eyes. “And you are—?”

“You don’t look like you’re over 600 years old,” the girl says bluntly, shocking Hob enough that he nearly drops the glass he’s holding. “You’re not feeding children to a giant snake to look young too, are you?” she asks him. 

“Niko,” Dream growls at the girl and Hob’s brain short-circuits even further as he processes the name. “That is not what I told you.”

Hob gapes for a solid minute looking back and forth between the two of them as Dream and Niko (Niko? Niko?!) start arguing about the semantics of immortality. 

“You said he was immortal, so I was expecting a wise old man!” Niko exclaims, gesturing a glittery blood-soaked mitten in Hob’s direction. “Not a guy who looks like a middle school teacher! Esther had to eat kids to look like that!”

“Hob is not eating children,” Dream replies with an exasperated sigh, resting a palm over his head. “For the last time Niko, my sister—”

“Niko? As in Niko Sasaki?” Hob blurts out, interrupting their conversation because otherwise his brain is going to explode. Both Dream and Niko whip their heads at him in surprise. 

“Niko Sasaki with the weirdly large manga collection?” Hob continues as his brain recounts every single thing he’s heard about the girl in the past year. “Niko who tried to set Jenny up with a serial killer and it didn’t quite go as planned? Niko with the parasite fairies that lived inside her for months?”

“You know who I am?” Niko gasps. She turns to Dream, who looks just as shocked as she does. “How does he know me?” she demands. “Wait!” she exclaims before Dream can even reply, turning back to face Hob. “Are you psychic too?”

“No, but I know one who will be very happy to see you,” Hob answers, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here I’ve heard so much about—oh shit wait! JENNY! GET OUT HERE!” Hob yells at the top of his lungs, remembering belatedly that there was someone in The New Inn right now that would be thrilled to see Niko.

“ Jenny ?” Niko practically shrieks, and both Hob and Dream wince at the high pitched sound. “Jenny’s in London? Wait, why is Jenny in London?”

“Moved over here with Crystal and the boys,” Hob says. “Oy, Jenny!” he calls out again, and this time, the American comes rushing out of the kitchen, looking extremely annoyed but also alarmed.

“What? What’s happening? Are we under attack aga—” she goes silent when she sees Niko. “Niko?” she whispers. 

“Oh my god, Jenny!” Niko cries out, which seems to break Jenny out of her trance. Suddenly, the two girls are rushing towards each other, collapsing into a pile on the floor as they hug and sob. 

“Oh my god is that blood and glitter on you?” Jenny says. “What the fuck? Are you alive? Am I dead? Oh God, I’m dead aren’t I? I can see the grim reaper right over there,” she adds, noticing Dream for the first time as she clutches Niko desperately to her.

Niko giggles. “No silly, that’s Dream. He just looks like that,” she says, gesturing to the Endless, and Hob can’t help but laugh at Dream's dour expression. He’d thought Dream was the embodiment of Death once upon a time because of that face too. “He’s the one who helped me get back to Earth!”

“Back to—where the hell have you been, Niko?” Jenny asks incredulously.

“No, not Hell silly, I was in the Dreaming!” Niko answers brightly. “Although Hell did try to take over, which is why it took so long for me to get back.”

“Hell did what now ?” Hob cuts in, suddenly feeling quite faint. He’s quite glad he’s still behind the bar, else he may have also collapsed on the floor himself. 

“It is,” Dream says with a deep and weary sigh, “quite the tale. It seems you have your own stories to share as well, my friend.”

“I��yeah I do. I’ll close the bar and call the boys and Crystal,” Hob replies. “Best if we get both stories out in one go, I think.”

“Agreed.”

-------------------------

There's a lot of screaming and crying that follows, and Hob is pretty certain he's going to be hard of hearing for the next few days while his eardrums recover. He doesn't mind though. Not when the kids all look so happy.

Niko's soul, it turns out, had been blasted to an entirely different dimension when she’d died, and that had been due to the cocktail of magical essences Niko had been carrying on her person unknowingly at the time. A lucky charm in the shape of a polar bear from someone named Tragic Mick had protected her from the magic that Esther the Witch had used to kill her, but then that magic had collided with the magic of the dandelion sprites. Apparently, when Litty and Kingham left Niko’s body without killing her, they had left some of their essence behind in her body, forging a connection that forced them to go wherever she went. And if all that wasn’t complicated enough, there was also apparently a cursed magic 8-ball! Hob’s really not sure how that played a part in anything, but according to Dream and Niko, the fact that she’d carried it with her at the time was vital to her transformation.

Which is to say, Niko Sasaki was no longer necessarily human. At least, not human by this dimension’s standards. Apparently her hair had once been black, then bleached blonde when the sprites had left her body, and now this newest brush with her own mortality had left her hair bright pink, and her eyes a glowing blue. Apparently it gave her the ability to see in the dark, and also sometimes see the future, amongst other abilities that she and Dream were still discovering.

In short, as she described it, Niko had become “a magical school girl! Without the weird uniform though. But all the cool magic!” 

Dream had come across her when she’d attempted to get back to the reality she knew. Her transformation had given her the ability to dimension walk, though she didn’t know that’s what she was doing when she’d been drawn to the gates of the Dreaming. She’d only walked towards something that felt like home to her, and the gates of the Dreaming, also recognizing Niko as one of its original inhabitants, had swung open easily to let her and the sprites inside. 

Dream himself had not been so welcoming at first. He’d taken Niko’s accidental wandering as intentional trespassing with an intent to invade. Niko and the sprites had tried to explain themselves, but they didn’t get very far before an actual threat to the Dreaming appeared in the form of Lucifer Morningstar and their generals from Hell. Although they were not obligated to, all three joined the battle against Hell, Niko because she felt it was the right thing to do, while Litty and Kingham claimed Hell was no place for faeries. 

In the end, however, the sprites had perished during the battle, giving up their lives and the last of their magic for Niko, which is why she was covered in glittering blood. Apparently, sprite blood doesn’t wash out, but would fade on its own over time. Since Litty and Kingham had died within the boundaries of the Dreaming, Dream had offered them a permanent place in his realm as residents, as gratitude for their sacrifice. They had chosen to become nightmares, which, according to Niko and the others, was entirely appropriate considering their personalities.

Hob’s head is spinning by the time Dream and Niko finish recounting the tale. Edwin and Charles immediately start asking dozens of questions about Niko’s time in another dimension, while Crystal and Jenny bracket the girl on each side, holding her tightly as if she may disappear again if they weren’t around to tether her to this dimension. Johanna shows up at some point to be moral support for her girlfriend too, and further breaks Hob’s brain by confirming she too had been blasted to another dimension due to magic spells gone wrong.

Hob should maybe update his wards to include prevention against interdimensional travel. He’ll figure out the how of that later, though. Right now, tonight was a night for celebrating, school night be damned. It does not escape his notice that he’s the only one of their group that even has to worry about that.

-------------------------

Hours later, Hob finds himself alone at the new Inn with Dream, cleaning up dishes and putting away the chairs for the night. The others had offered at first to help clean up, but Hob had insisted they all go home and rest, but Dream had insisted that he would stay behind to help clean up and well, Hob’s never been able to deny Dream anything. 

Hob hadn’t missed the pointed looks Crystal and Edwin had given him as she and the others had filed out of the pub, nor the curious look from Jenny, and most certainly not the look of abject horror from Johanna. Charles and Niko had been the worst offenders, both giving him two obnoxious thumbs up on their way out. Hob doesn’t even know Niko, this was just getting embarrassing at this point. Everyone seemed to have some sort of opinion on Hob’s relationship (no, not a situationship) with Dream.

Hob really only cares about one person’s opinion though, and he’s currently staring at Hob as he finishes wiping down the tables, the last activity left before he closes up for the night.

“You did a good thing, reuniting those kids,” Hob says to Dream as he tosses his rag on the counter and turns to face his friend. “I've never seen them so happy.”

Dream hums contemplatively. “I hardly did anything,” he replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It was Niko's determination alone that carried her as far as it did, and her bravery that kept my realm from falling. I simply delivered her back to the Waking World.”

“I’m glad she was here, to have your back,” Hob says. “And I’m glad you brought her here. I know you said earlier you didn’t know the kids were here, but did you really not notice?”

“I did not,” Dream admits. “I have been—preoccupied with many things as of late. I simply brought Niko to where I knew for certain that she would be safe. Cared for.” 

“I’m honored,” Hob replies, grinning from ear to ear. “That you’d consider me a good caretaker for her. I would hope you know I’d be happy to care for you too, should you ever need it.”

“I am—aware,” Dream says, his cheeks taking on the slightest hue of pink. Hob briefly wonders if Dream blushes everywhere on his body, or only just on his face. Then he feels his own face heat up as his mind goes off in other directions.  

“Would you like to come upstairs?” Hob asks, trying to distract himself from his wandering thoughts, but then he realizes just how suggestive his invitation sounds and blushes even more. “I mean, I uh, if you don’t have anywhere to be I’d uhm—I’d like to keep talking,” he adds quickly, trying and failing to banish thoughts of what they could be doing in Hob’s flat other than talking . Christ, this was his oldest friend, not some girl he was trying to take to bed for the night. Dream doesn’t respond right away to Hob’s question, only tilts his head at him as if assessing something that Hob cannot see. 

“Hob Gadling,” Dream finally says, his voice suddenly serious. “You are aware I can see into daydreams as well as sleeping ones?”

Shit. 

Well cat’s out of the bag then. Might as well own up to it. Crystal’s never going to let him live this down, Hob knows.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Hob says, before taking a deep breath to calm the rapid beating of his heart. “I really did want to just talk, I promise. I’m a grown man, Dream I know how to take a rejection. I’m happy for just your company, and friendship.” He means every single word of it too, and if Dream didn’t believe him, he could apparently just read his mind to find out. 

“Hmmm,” Dream replies, before he takes one, two, three wide steps into Hob’s personal space. Hob inhales sharply, tasting petrichor and stars and infinity in that single breath. 

“I have been made aware recently,” Dream continues after a moment, looking up at Hob from his eyelashes, “that I carry a lot of ‘baggage’, as Niko likes to put it.”

“We all have our burdens,” Hob replies, with a shrug. “I'd help you carry yours, if you'd let me. Or well, if I could.”

“No,” Dream says. “I asked another once, if she would be my queen, and share that burden with me. She told me the burden would be too great for her, or any mortal.”

“Dream,” Hob starts, more ready to make his case. “I could—”

“No,” Dream interrupts, shaking his head, his gaze suddenly faraway as he recalls what Hob assumes to be a painful memory. “She was right. I would not ask you to take such a responsibility. It would fundamentally change you and leave you unable to live your life as you have been accustomed to these past centuries.”

“But?” Hob asks knowing there is a but in Dream’s tone. Dream sighs, before he meets Hob’s eyes again, his gaze clearer and perhaps a bit…hopeful?

“But perhaps…maybe coffee?” Dream asks shyly. Hob laughs. 

“Did you learn that from Niko too?” Hob teases him.

“In a way,” Dream answers, cryptic as ever. “If you are willing to be patient with me, Hob, I would gladly cherish you as both a friend and… something more than that,” he adds, and Hob’s heart soars. “There are limitations, however, and I—”

“Dream,” Hob interrupts. “Remember how we started? A hundred years between each meeting? That was enough.” He takes Dream's hand into his and kisses it, then moves his lips across each individual knuckle. 

“I don't know how relationships with anthropomorphic personifications are supposed to work, but I know it won't be what I'm used to,” Hob confesses. “And it's okay, Dream. It's enough for me, just to know that you feel something for me too. We can figure the rest out later.”

“You are too free with your affections,” Dream tells him, but there’s no real reproach in his voice.

“Maybe,” Hob replies. “But I have a lot of love to give, what with living forever and all. Let me show you just how much?” he adds, this time unashamedly letting his daydreams unspool from his mind. The innocent and dirty alike. Dream’s eyes widen as he seems to physically taste Hob’s dreams, before his eyes darken and he squeezes Hob’s hand in turn.

“Lead the way then,” Dream says, his lips quirking just the slightest bit into a playful smile. Hob kisses Dream's hand once more and winks, before leading the Endless upstairs to end the night.

[dipperscavern]

anon you infested with cregan parasites, and as a consequence i’ve been thinking about his HAIR all day. it’s just so long , and so messy (like in a hot way), and he takes his little manbun down and it hangs in your face during ,,coitus (also in a hot way)

jon’s too tbh (jon girl in my soul, every thought has to come back to him, soz 😔)

OH MY GODDD IT HANGING IN YIUR FAVE IM CH IK IM ARF ARF ARF ARF

his arms are by your head…. enclosing u as that mop of brown hair falls to hang in your face…. oh yeah. your finger comes to twirl a section of it, cause you’re just so enamored by it & by him, and his pupils literally dilate watching you. because gods, how lovely can one person be? his heart is near to burst, and he just has to kiss you. (he does)

also. jon…. likes it… when you pull his hair send tweet.

[melagnes]

Hanging by a Thread (of Mistletoe)

Summary: Nicholas, tired of watching his mom and Rio exchange lingering looks but doing nothing about it, decided to play matchmaker with a little holiday help: a strategically placed mistletoe.

It was a bitterly cold Christmas Eve, and Agatha Harkness found herself once again ensnared in the holiday madness. Her home was alight with the warm glow of candles and adorned with understated but impeccable decorations—a testament to her begrudging perfectionism. The evergreen garlands draped elegantly along the mantle, interspersed with silver ribbons and tiny twinkling lights, while the tree in the corner sparkled with ornaments that hinted at both tradition and modern flair. Despite her protests, the party was, of course, happening.

“You owe me a very good explanation, Nicholas,” Agatha muttered, arranging a platter of hors d’oeuvres. “How exactly did we go from ‘a quiet evening at home’ to ‘hosting half the coven in my living room’?”

Nicholas, her ever-persistent son, leaned against the counter with a sheepish grin. “Well, you’re the coolest witch around, Mom. Everyone’s always saying it. They practically begged for this.”

Agatha’s sharp blue eyes bore into him as she slowly raised her eyebrow, but Nicolas only shrugged.

“Fine, fine. I may have…” He hesitated. “Strongly hinted that you were planning to throw a holiday gathering.”

“Strongly hinted?” she repeated, her voice a slow drawl of disbelief.

“You know, implied it just enough so they’d… assume.”

“Assume? Oh, they assumed correctly, all right—that I’m easily manipulated by my own child!” she retorted, pointing a wooden spoon at him like a wand. “And what, pray tell, did you ‘hint’ about the mistletoe?”

Nicholas’ grin widened as he looked toward the doorway. “It’s tradition, Mom. You can’t have a party without a little holiday spirit.”

Agatha poked at the sprig with a long, disapproving finger. “A parasitic plant. Romanticized. What next, wreaths made of poison ivy?”

Before Nicholas could reply, a loud knock at the front door interrupted them. Agatha straightened, smoothing her blouse as she moved to answer it. When she opened the door, Rio stood on the threshold, framed by the golden light spilling from the house, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

Agatha’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly—a moment so brief that it could have been a trick of the candlelight.

“Hey,” Rio said, her voice warm, carrying the faintest rasp that sent a subtle shiver down Agatha’s spine.

“Hey,” Agatha replied, her voice lower and softer, betraying a tiny edge of vulnerability.

Rio’s dark eyes met hers, and for a second, Agatha swore they glinted with something unreadable. “I thought I’d come early,” Rio continued, stepping inside and bringing with her the crisp scent of pine and frost. “Figured I’d lend a hand with the finishing touches.” She held up a string of lights, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it classy. Sophistication’s your thing, right?”

Agatha turned toward her, one brow arched. “Oh, you mean gaudy, overwrought displays? Because that’s what you’re describing.”

Rio smirked, draping the lights along the mantle with deliberate ease. She leaned in, her fingers trailing over the garland just inches from Agatha’s shoulder, brushing it with a soft touch that sent an electric shiver down Agatha’s spine.

The air between them thickened as Rio’s presence closed the space, her proximity so intimate it was almost tangible. Agatha could feel the heat radiating from her, and a soft, intoxicating scent of pine and something faintly spicy—a hint of cinnamon or cloves—lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of the evergreens.

It clung to Agatha’s senses as Rio’s breath brushed near her ear, so close that Agatha felt the subtle whisper of it against her skin. She caught herself leaning back just slightly, drawn in by the pull of Rio’s proximity, a warmth blooming in her chest, the sensation both unwelcome and undeniably magnetic.

“Call it charm,” Rio murmured, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “You’ve outdone yourself, though. The place looks… enchanting.”

Agatha turned away, busying herself with the tray again, though her hands moved slower now, her attention pulled in two directions. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, her tone clipped, though her voice betrayed her in its unevenness.

Rio chuckled softly behind her, the sound low and intimate like it wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone else. “Who said I was trying to go anywhere?”

The words hung between them, heavy and electric. Agatha felt the tension coil in her chest, sharp and insistent, but she refused to look back, unwilling to give Rio the satisfaction.

Across the room, Nicholas and Teen exchanged knowing glances. “You know what we need?” Nicholas whispered, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face.

Teen groaned. “If you’re about to say more mistletoe, I’m leaving.”

“No! Well, not exactly.” Nicholas leaned closer. “A push. Just a little nudge to get them to stop... dancing around each other.”

Teen shook his head. “You’re worse than a Hallmark movie.”

…

By the time the other guests arrived, the house was alive with laughter and the gentle clinking of glasses. The scent of pine and cinnamon hung in the air, mingling with the faint notes of Christmas music playing from a vintage record player. Agatha surveyed the scene, her sharp eyes flickering over every detail—the arrangement of the appetizers, the placement of the lights. Everything was just as it should be, yet the buzz of anticipation beneath her skin made her feel off-kilter.

Lilia swept in first, her bell earrings jingling as she threw her arms around Agatha. “Aggie, darling, this is divine!” she exclaimed, gesturing to the room.

“Don’t call me that,” Agatha grumbled, though her protests were half-hearted. 

Trailing behind was Jenn, who immediately beelined for the snack table. “Oh, sweet merciful magic,” she sighed, popping a chocolate-covered almond into her mouth.

The sound of the door swinging open announced Alice’s arrival. She burst through like a gust of glitter, wearing an outfit that could only be described as Yassified Santa.

“Alright, who’s ready to slay?” Alice declared, striking a dramatic pose. 

Teen snorted from her perch near the fireplace. “Slay as in S-L-A-Y or S-L-E-I-G-H?”

Alice grinned. “Both. Obviously.”

Even Mrs. Hart made her grand entrance, bustling in with trays of decadent homemade fudge. The rich, velvety aroma wafted through the room as she set them down.

“Oh, Agatha, you’ve outdone yourself,” Mrs. Hart said warmly, her gaze sweeping the room. “And that mistletoe! Inspired!”

Before anyone could respond, she plucked a glass of wine from the table and downed it in one gulp, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I have had a very hard day. Do not judge me,” she added with a pointed look at the room.

Agatha forced a polite smile, her gaze briefly flickering to the infamous sprig. Her pulse quickened despite herself. What had seemed like a harmless idea at first now hung over the room like a silent instigator. Her cheeks flushed faintly as her eyes darted to Rio, who was helping Nicholas adjust the lights.

…

Across the room, Nicholas was standing near the tree with Rio, his arms crossed as he surveyed the party. Alice lingered nearby, sipping from a festive glass that clashed entirely with her glittery outfit.

“Alright,” Nicholas said, his voice low and conspiratorial, “here’s the plan. We need to catch my mom off guard—get her under the mistletoe when she least expects it. Subtlety is key.”

Rio arched a brow, a playful smirk on her lips. “Subtlety? You?”

“Hey, I can be subtle!” Nicholas protested, before immediately adding, “Sometimes. Okay, fine—Alice, you’re in charge of distractions. We need Mom’s attention away from the mistletoe until the perfect moment.”

Alice perked up, swirling her drink. “You want me to create chaos? Say less.”

He turned to Rio, who had one hand casually resting in her pocket, her expression unreadable but undeniably amused. “You, on the other hand…” Nicholas jabbed a finger toward her. “You’ve got to be ready. The second she’s under the mistletoe, you make your move. No hesitating, no second-guessing. Just go for it.”

Rio tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming. “And you think she’s not going to see through this elaborate scheme of yours?”

Nicholas shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “It’s Christmas. Even she’s gotta let her guard down eventually. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping, “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. If we don’t intervene, this’ll be another year of brooding and unresolved tension, and I cannot handle that.”

Rio chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re awfully invested in this.”

“I live here,” Nicholas replied flatly. “I have to be.”

Alice wiggled her eyebrows, leaning toward Rio. “C’mon, Rio. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t mind a little holiday magic under that sprig of doom.”

Rio glanced at Agatha across the room, her expression softening despite herself.

“Fine,” Rio murmured, her lips curling into a sly smile. “I’ll play along. But only because your mom’s impossible to resist.”

“Impossible to resist!” Alice squealed, practically bouncing on her heels. “This is gonna be iconic.”

Nicholas groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Please don’t ruin it before it even starts.”

“Oh, relax.” Alice patted his shoulder. “I’ll behave. Probably.”

As the three of them exchanged a final nod of agreement, Nicholas clapped his hands together. “Alright, team. Let’s do this. For Christmas.”

“For Christmas!” Alice echoed with far too much enthusiasm, raising her glass like a battle cry.

Rio simply shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. This was ridiculous. But as her gaze drifted back to Agatha, a flicker of anticipation sparked in her chest. Maybe ridiculous was exactly what she needed tonight.

…

It had been a long night, and Agatha felt the buzz of the party still thrumming through her, but something kept pulling her attention away from the festivities. Her gaze drifted once again to Rio, standing near the tree with a smile that was too easy, too knowing. Agatha shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her longing.

The house was warm, the air filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon, but Agatha felt a strange chill creeping over her as she watched Rio.

Her mind wandered back to the first time they'd crossed paths that evening. The brief moment when Agatha had opened the door, their eyes meeting, and that slight hitch in her breath. Was it real? Or was it just the haze of the holiday lights that had made everything feel more… alive?

The way Rio leaned in to help her with the lights, and the way she’d brushed against Agatha’s arm and left that lingering warmth behind. Agatha’s thoughts were a tangled mess, and the tension in her chest only grew tighter with every stolen glance. She couldn’t keep avoiding it. It wasn’t just the mistletoe, it was the way Rio made her feel. Vulnerable. Exposed. And yet… utterly helpless to look away.

Then, it happened again.

Agatha was adjusting a tray of glasses near the fireplace, trying to keep her focus on something—anything—other than Rio. The flames flickered softly, casting warm light around the room, but it was the shadow that moved closer to her that caught her attention. Agatha’s pulse quickened, and she stiffened instinctively before her breath hitched when she realized who it was.

Rio.

She was standing closer now, just a few feet away, her gaze sharp and direct. Agatha felt the space between them close, felt the air thicken with something unspoken. Rio’s eyes never left hers, and for a long moment, Agatha didn’t know whether to move away or closer.

“Are you alright?” Rio’s voice was a low murmur, thick with meaning.

Agatha’s heart fluttered, and she fought to steady herself. She glanced down, unwilling to meet Rio’s gaze for a moment. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice coming out much softer than she intended.

Rio took a small step forward, and the world seemed to shrink around them. Agatha could feel her breath quicken, the heat of the party mixing with the fire in her chest. 

“You look flustered,” Rio said, a playful smile tugging at her lips, but her eyes held something more—a quiet intensity that made Agatha’s chest tighten.

“I’m not,” Agatha replied quickly, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Hmm.” Rio’s voice dropped lower, and Agatha could feel the weight of her words. “Sure about that?”

Agatha’s hands were trembling. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so exposed, so on the edge of something she didn’t know how to handle. The pull between them was undeniable, and she hated how much it affected her. She hated how much she wanted it.

Before she could say anything else, a voice broke through the tension.

“Hey, what’s going on over here?” Alice’s voice sounded almost too loud in the charged silence. She bounded toward them, her Christmas outfit blinking obnoxiously. “Am I interrupting something?”

Agatha couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief, though it was fleeting. She turned away, grateful for the distraction but also irritated by the interruption. “Nothing,” she muttered, her tone sharper than she meant.

Alice raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Carry on with your brooding—or whatever it is you do.”

As Alice walked away, Agatha could feel Rio’s presence still looming behind her, and when she turned back, Rio was already moving closer. Agatha could barely breathe.

And then, Nicholas did what Nicholas did best.

“Mom!” he called from the other room. “Quick, you’ve got to see this!”

Agatha sighed, setting the glass down with an almost audible thud. “What now?”

She barely made it two steps before Rio’s hand found her wrist, gentle but firm. Agatha froze, her heart skipping a beat as she turned to face Rio.

Rio’s eyes were locked on hers, and the world around them seemed to hold its breath. Agatha could feel every inch of her skin on fire, every nerve alive with the anticipation of something that both terrified and thrilled her.

“It’s still there,” Rio murmured, her voice a soft thread of sound.

Agatha’s gaze flicked upward, and sure enough, the mistletoe still hung above them, a silent witness to everything unspoken. Her heart raced as the realization hit her, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. She was trapped in the moment, unsure of what to do next.

“Scared?” Rio asked, her tone teasing but full of something more—something that made Agatha’s chest tighten.

“Of you?” Agatha shot back, her voice breathless but still defiant. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Rio’s smile softened, her eyes searching Agatha’s face, waiting for something. Permission? Or maybe just the next step. Agatha could feel her breath catch in her throat as Rio leaned in, the space between them almost too much to bear.

It was a challenge, and Agatha couldn’t help but rise to meet it.

“Fine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “If it’ll shut you up.”

Rio’s hand moved to her waist, light but steady, grounding her in the moment. They leaned in slowly, the kiss hanging in the air like everything around them had faded away. The world outside the kiss disappeared completely as their lips met, tentative at first, a slow and deliberate exploration. It was soft, almost too soft, but it deepened quickly, both of them losing themselves in the sensation.

Agatha’s hands found Rio’s collar, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate. The sounds of the party, the chatter, the music—they were all distant now, insignificant. All that mattered was this—this kiss, this moment.

When they finally pulled away, it felt as if the room itself had shifted. Agatha’s breath was ragged, her heart still racing as she tried to steady herself. Rio’s grin was smug but full of wonder like she had just discovered something beautiful.

“Worth the wait,” Rio murmured, her voice low and rough.

Agatha smirked, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s worth saying.”

Just then, Nicholas appeared in the doorway, his grin wide and mischievous. "Finally!" he exclaimed. “Took you two long enough.”

“Look, everyone! It’s happening!” Alice shouted, rallying a cheer from the group.

Agatha glared at Nicholas, but the warmth on her lips was a clear betrayal. “Go to bed, Nicholas.”

Nicholas laughed, backing away. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Agatha turned back to Rio, her gaze softening just slightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re cleaning up tomorrow.”

Rio chuckled, leaning in close. “Deal.”

And for once, Agatha didn’t have a retort. She was too busy savoring the heat of the kiss still lingering between them.