#ch: the parasite

[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.

[dyvimwhitehart]

just got to empyrea on genevieve so you know what that means. genbat overboard meme!

[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.

[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 🙂

[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.

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 17

Remember when I said that ch 18 may take longer? Yeah, so I surprised myself- I thought the little fight sequence would kill me but I found a work around- kinda.

Here's ch 17, hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 17 >>next

“Wait- you and Superman were friends? Ok, no- let me back track. You know Clark is Superman?” You asked, sipping on your Tedi drink as you stopped looking over Luthor’s plans for a Mars station. “This won’t be of any use, by the way- Mars is already populated, has a mind control parasite problem, and the Martians are quick to execute people.” Lex just laughs.

“Yes, we were. Yes, I know. No, I won’t tell you, it’s a story for another time. And I’m working on finding a diplomat for a treaty and on something to fix that little problem. Now, how did you know Clark is Superman?” You just shrug. “Not like he’s wearing a mask. Sure, the posture difference and the unfitted suits he wears helps, but if you look close enough at Superman it’ll be hard not to connect him to someone. And his face is too soft to be Bruce Wayne.”

"And I saw Lois kiss him." Luthor’s amused cackle got cut short as the doors to his office opened, Slade Wilson strutting in as if he owned the place. “How did-“ Lex almost hisses at the man, but Slade waves him off. “Does it matter? I’m already here.” The man smirks as he hands you the garment bag he was carrying, taking a seat in the other armchair near Luthor’s desk while watching you critique the work on your suit. “Ha! This looks brand new, thanks- oh this reminded me.”

You get up, swinging the closed bag over your shoulder. “I have to cut our gossiping session short, I have to go rob a billionaire. Don’t kill each other.” You snatch the pointer from Luthor’s desk, slashing your nails through the air to open a portal. “And up your security Alex!” Lex just cringes at the name, grunting in displeasure.

Slade finally turns to look at the bald billionaire. “So? Have you thought about my offer?” Luthor sighs as he slums in his chair, eye twitching at the assassin’s question, his fingers tapping the armrest. Of course he has. “You are assuming she’ll just accept it like nothing.” Slade just raises an eyebrow. “I’ll take the blame, don’t worry.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, who's in?” You grin widely as Rex and Amanda immediately raise their hands, mischief glinting in their eyes. “Alright- hey, calm down- why do you even want to go rob Bruce Wayne? I know you hate the guy but aren’t you afraid of Batman?”  Black Samson intervenes, the others looking at the board you produced out of thin air with pictures depicting the Wayne manor and Bruce Wayne with some drawn red horns and goatee.

“Well- it’s not technically stealing. I’m just taking my childhood stuff back. Mainly plushies.” You shrug. “Childhood stuff? You lived there?” Dupli-Kate voices what others are thinking, getting a simple yes. “Don’t get fooled by his fake clumsy act, the man is cold. And he was a deadbeat to me.” You pointed Luthor’s pointer at the Immortal. “No, I will not elaborate on my parental issues, and-“ You moved to point at Rudy when he opened his mouth. “Magic. Well, more of a pocket dimension I already had the board in.” You shrug. “Still used magic to teleport it here.”

“Can we go already?” Rex's whines are quickly followed by Monster Girl’s voice. “Yeah, I want to check rob the rich off my bucket list. And to try those cookies you keep raving about!” Samson sighs as he gets up, arms crossing looking like a disappointed father. “I can’t in good conscience let you do that. Immortal, back me up, man.” But it took one look at your unimpressed face for the spineless man to fold. “Well, if he was such a terrible father-“

“That decides it then!” You smile brightly, grabbing the message board and throwing it back into the pocket dimension. You quickly grab Rex and Monster Girl and fly away, not giving anyone else the chance to argue. “Jesus, do we weight anything to you?” Amanda grabs tighter onto you. “Nope. It’s like holding a couple of grapes.”

Samson’s eyes move from your departing figure to the ancient man, disappointment shining through as he sighs and shakes his head before going back to the GDA computer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t believe we almost got caught by the billionaire.” Amanda giggles as she eats another chocolate chip cookie. “I can’t believe the butler almost caught us! These are so good-” Rex groans, moaning as he too stuffs another cookie in his mouth. “Alfred’s highly trained, actually. Even if we were invisible, he probably still felt our eyes on him.” You shrugged, dangling your feet over the edge of the building you three sat on.

“That Bruce guy… he seemed quite wrecked when he passed by your door.” At Amanda’s worried words, you just brush her off. “He’s probably worried about it ruining his image or something.” Rex’s brows furrow as he looks at you. “What about your mom? You’ve never talked about her before.”

“Nobody asked before. But seriously- compared to Debbie, hell, compared to Eve’s mom, mine was doing it more out of duty. I loved her, I still do. She was a better parent than Bruce, but she still had her faults. Now that I know what a mom is truly like, I feel like I was more of a doll she occasionally played with when she was bored of men and work.”

“Damn. First your mom, then Wayne, now Omni-Man- you can’t catch a break, can you?” Monster Girl joked, trying to lighten the mood. You laugh and groan, eyes fixated on the stars. “Twice is a coincidence, three times is a curse, eh?” Your small talk is interrupted by the sound of your phone, the screen lighting up with a message from Mark only stating an address and to get there as fast as possible. “Well, the fun is over, I have to go. Let’s get you two home.” They both booed as they got up, making you laugh.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You anxiously sat in a seat as the alien was starting up his spaceship, giving a small smile and thumbs up as the Thraxan asked about your comfortability. “Yeah. Thanks… Hey, how long until we get to Thraxa?” Mark asks, seemingly just as nervous. “Approximately six of your earth days.”

“Wicked.” You muttered sarcastically, eyes meeting Mark’s. “We so should have talked to mom face to face.” The older sibling sighs. “I mean- you got that teleportation magic stuff, you could always just check in with her once we get there, right?” You give a noncommittal hum as you pout. “Still feels wrong. Like a trap.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tim Drake was staring at the video footage and audio recordings, playing the sound over and over again. “Can’t believe the fuckers went through my stuff.” Keeps on being repeated by the Sorceress as two others help her throw plushies and paintings through a Lazarus green portal. His eyes move to the clock. Four in the morning, and he has been awake for about a day. His eyes moved to the only picture they seemed to find of you, the one Alfred had ran around the house with, before his eyes moved back to your figure on the screen.

He puts the coffee mug on the table while he gets up, going straight into the elevator. He was hallucinating. He must be. You were a normal kid and he was tired, and in distress, he was seeing things, associating The Sorceress with his little sister because they were two unknowns. Yes. Definitely that and not because he was in denial. Granted, Tim was tired enough not to see another figure looming in the shadows. So, he wasn’t lying to himself fully.

By the next morning, everyone in the manor found out there was missing stuff from your old room, and while Tim was sure that he was awake then, he had no proof of anything he saw. No footage, no voice recordings, nothing. His eyes drifted to Damian’s seemingly annoyed but unbothered expression, rubbing at his eyes after the younger boy gave him a smirk. Damian’s face was as blank as ever. Tim decided to get more sleep. He has to be seeing shit.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

While Nuolzot was trying to wake up your brother gently you just grabbed your pillow and whacked it across his face, making the young adult wake up screaming, fists raised ready for a fight. “We’re here sleeping beauty.” You snicker at his expression, moving in synch with him once he’s by your side, completely ignoring his mumbles.

When the door of the spacecraft opens you both flinch at the sound of the Thraxans exclaiming greetings and cheers. You both awkwardly waved. “Oh, don't mind them. Come. The monarch wants to meet you at once.” Mark and you simply follow the alien as you look around. “Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving? Where are the meteors?” The man asks only to be answered with confusion. “Meteors? What meteors?” You give Mark a look before turning back to Nuolzot, speaking with just as much confusion. “Uh- the ones that are supposedly killing billions?” This was definitely a trap.

“Oh, yeah, those meteors. You know, must be a touch of dementia.” The alien shrugs nervously. “We age much quicker than you humans, you know. Uh, don't worry, the monarch will explain all.” The Thraxan quickly ushers you two towards the staircase, nudging you to bow politely. “Your Majesty. May I present Invincible and Sorceress of Earth.”

You look at Mark with a face that clearly shows how tired you already are of this madness. But nonetheless, you kneel alongside your brother, only looking up when a familiar voice greets you both. As your eyes meet the monarch your brows furrow. “Oh, you mother-“

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams

[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...

[sonnet009games]

This story feels like a fuck you to the idea that sex scenes in stories are inherently useless or gratuitous and I love that so much. On top of just being fun! there is so much being conveyed here as the chapters go on. I love how we've gone from "I don't want to ruin you" at the end of ch 5, to "let me ruin you like you've ruined me". The detective and Flea have basically bulldozed each others previous lives and we can really sense that desperation from Flea to have as much of an impact on the MC as they had on him because otherwise where does that leave him ? And that other line "I'm a parasite, but i'm your parasite". He's clearly worried about how the detective views him as a demon, and now he's in a space where he's like well okay, fine, I am this, but you still want me right ? This is especially painful if the detective implied all demons are monsters earlier on 🥲

Ah, thank you! Sex scenes can be some of the best vehicles for character insight, relationship development, and just… uh… you know. Feeling all tingly and good! I’ve been loving throwing myself into them with Incubus.

“I’m a parasite, but I’m your parasite,” is a line that has lived in my head rent-free for SO long. Kind of wild that it’s just out there now.

[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 you 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 naïve 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 mine 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 began to stretch your pussy impossibly wide, causing it to tear and bleed.

"Ah, so feisty. I like that." Doflamingo griped 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 indestructible.

"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 cock, 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. 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, whether you want to 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, grinding his hips against yours 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 ejaculate 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 began 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 close 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.

[elainem-art]

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?

[caramelt4me]

𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥. | 비밀 - Ch XVI "𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭"

Trigger warning: mentions of substance ab*se, corruption, primal love (extreme platonic love edging romantic), suggestive themes, self-harm, death, mental decline, identity-crisis, hallucinations, brainwashing, angst and manipulation

·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

𝔻uring the not-so-little intermission in your Storytime, Nex sprawled impatiently across the couch, his restless bandaged fingers fidgeting with his phone. The screen blurred before his eyes, nothing really holding his attention—not when his grey irises kept flickering toward the stairs.

Still no sign of you.

His lips pushed into a soft pout, a small, almost pitiful groan slipping past them—his mind already unravelling at the edges, as if experiencing the first pangs of separation anxiety all over again.

The first pang (though very brief in comparison) had struck an hour ago, the moment you peeled yourself away from him—after hugging him—to fetch a box of miscellaneous items. Art supplies, stationery, a plethora of board games…

And perhaps, you had expected him to explore it while you took your sweet time in the shower.

But that box would remain untouched.

Because why would Nex even bother with anything when his noona wasn’t around?

── It’s no fun alone.

The maknae sighed, gaze flickering toward the sketchbook lying next to him. For the twentieth time in five minutes, his eyes traced over the open page—a silly little doodle of a monocled-hamster fairy in a tux.

The one you and he had drawn together.

── Noona made it look more like a chubby guinea pig, though.

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat.

The pink-haired maknae had always been the doodle artist of Twilight Dreamers, winning over game show hosts with his absurdly cute drawings—but this? This was his masterpiece.

The cutest, ugliest sketch he had ever made, because you had made it with him.

And of course, it was because you had been multitasking, narrating your animated real tales while doodling with him, while he—he had been too busy listening. Keeping track of the storyline, reminding you whenever you lost your train of thought—something he had never done for anyone else.

Nex was a scatterbrain—furthest from being an avid listener.

But if you were the one talking?

He’d listen.

Doesn’t matter what the topic was.

And now that he knew you both were kindred spirits—both quietly desiring to be liked by one another (though his desire was perhaps more…intense), he felt himself clinging to every wakeful moment spent with you from that point onwards.

Oh, what he’d give to return to that moment.

To rewind to the last second of his caught-off-guard hopelessness and play it over and over again—to thank that first tear that had slipped down his cheek.

Until then, he had despised his tears, had always seen them as pathetic, involuntary signs of weakness that only ever made things worse for him.

But this time?

They had redeemed themselves—worked their magic on you.

Made you intervene—made you comfort him.

Made you hug him.

And with that, the exhausting struggle in his head—the constant overthinking about how much personal space he should keep between you and himself—was gone.

Now, he didn’t feel guilty for seeking your warmth. Didn’t feel wrong basking in your gentle, unfiltered affection—so effortlessly soothing, so maddeningly natural in the way it silenced the dark voices that clawed at him from within.

It was better than what his hot-and-cold hyung had ‘accidentally’ managed to do.

But, of course, that peace hadn’t lasted very long.

The gurgling whispers would return—a relentless, violent chorus louder than before.

Like parasites, they slithered through his thoughts, indifferent to his pain. Burrowing deeper, twisting and needling, they forced him to reaffirm his loyalty to Asher—a loyalty that felt less like devotion in those excruciatingly long minutes and more like chains of despair.

He’d been drowning in it until your warmth pulled him back from the edge. And for a fleeting moment, harmony within him was restored.

Although…

A lull before the storm is still a kind of silence, isn’t it?

Perhaps this so-called "peace" was only sinking deeper, twisting something even more fundamental at his core. Or maybe, Nex had unlocked a part of himself he had never dared to explore before—

Who knows.

Yet it was enough to reignite the hunger inside him.

“I’m hungry for breakfast. Aren’t you too?”

The oblivious you had said innocently before.

Oh, if you only knew how long Nex had been starving for an affection so simple but pure.

(Nex continues daydreaming about you—)

“I don’t want to talk about it if it’s only going to make you feel worse about yourself.”

Your kind words had caught Nex off guard at first.

Yet, they had lingered, soft and unexpected—planting a seed in his mind.

It should have grown slowly, innocently—something tender and harmless.

But it hadn’t.

Instead, it had spread like wildfire, monstrous and consuming—choking out the voices that had been screaming in his head for so long.

The voices that had demanded blind worship of Asher, even when it hurt. Even when Nex wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum, to rail against the unfairness of it all—

That his hyung didn’t even trust him enough to tell him your name.

Your. Fucking. Name.

The name he was now dying to know.

The name he couldn’t ask for.

Because his hyung said no.

── Ugh, stop thinking about it again!

But then—just as the frustration threatened to consume him—his mind was effectively distracted by recalling another, rather sugary, unexpected kindness of yours—no, more like soft affection.

“I didn’t want to seem too nosy, but I actually wanted to try your cereal. The cinnamon one—um... churro—"

You had wanted to try his cereal.

Such a small thing—yet so dear to his inner child.

No one had asked you to do that.

Definitely not Asher—but you did.

You had cared.

Cared enough to let him eat from your bowl because, as he put it, it tasted better that way.

── And it was not just because of the banana milk.

…Was what the maknae adamantly told himself—as a sudden surge of childlike glee took over—threatening to crack through the fragile dam of his already unstable mind.

His only thought right after, had been to earn more of your affection, more of your approval.

And so, without even realizing it—Nex had gone a bit rogue.

The giddy need to please you drowned out any sense of caution, his mind too tangled in his desperation to even consider how his actions might be misunderstood.

“Nex, I’m not your girlfriend.”                 “…as if I were your girlfriend.”

But now, after getting the taste of being misunderstood—could he ever truly be that innocent again?

Nex wasn’t sure anymore.

The forbidden desire that had slipped into his thoughts seemed… tempting—the quiet dilemma reflected in the stormy depths of his grey eyes as he sank deeper into the haze.

And then, of course, you’d said the magic words.

“I do want you to like me, Nex.”

Nex still couldn’t believe it.

How could you give him something so precious—so dangerous?

And how could you be so polite about it?

“But not like this. You don't have to try so hard to please me...”

Not only refusing to feel uncomfortable but instead comforting him, telling him he didn’t even have to try that hard?

Were you even real?

Or were you an actual angel, who had descended straight from heaven?

How else was he supposed to make sense of the fact that you actually seemed to respect him?

His noona—a light so radiant, so pure—treated him with a kindness he had never known, not even from his precious hyung.

And certainly not from that blonde pervert who claimed, time and time again, that he was the only one who would ever stay by Nex’s side—despite how much pain he had caused.

But you?

You were beyond anything Nex could have hoped for.

── Noona…

It felt… illegal.

It felt reckless.

But the last thing it felt like… was unwanted.

── What is this feeling?

── I… want more.

A slow, erratic smile stretched across his face, cheeks burning instantly. But he only allowed himself a moment to bask in it before sitting up abruptly, his thoughts already racing.

── Should I touch up my makeup?

── …Just in case.

Just in case there were more opportunities to hug you today.

Nex had never been big on physical intimacy—or at least, he hadn’t been.

But that hug—that touch—had been different.

Your warmth had been real.

The kind of real that didn’t make his skin crawl.

The kind of real that he could crave.

The maknae exhaled sharply, bandaged fingers reaching out, slowly grasping the sofa pillow you had been holding earlier—squeezing it, as if trying to imprint the feeling of you into his skin.

Nex felt feverish—the acute sickness rapidly spreading in his heart. Yet he already knew it would become the most comforting chronic disease of his life.

It was overwhelming, suffocating, but in a way that felt… good. It trampled over the ugly scars left behind by a certain blonde without hesitation, demanding to take up more space.

But, of course, Nex wouldn’t realize that just yet.

Flustered and giddy, he pictured your face in his mind, the storm in his grey eyes softening into a hazy swirl. And then his imagination slipped—unhinged, uncontrollable.

He saw himself, like a ghost in his own memory, leaning closer as you spoke. His fingers brushing against your oblivious lips. His hand tracing over your skin.

He didn’t know what Asher had done to capture you.

But if his hyung ever showed even the slightest sign of letting go—

── I’d take you for myself.

The thought slithered into his mind before he could stop it.

Nex frowned, through the haze.

── No, I shouldn’t…

── Hyung wouldn’t like that.

Even if he was still bitter about the jab Asher had thrown his way this morning.

── And noona seems like the loyal type…

His grey eyes softened.

Not a single mention of the fight with Asher had slipped from your lips.

Perhaps to avoid giving the wrong idea again. Perhaps because you knew—painfully so—that he would always be forced to guard Asher’s secrets.

Whether he wanted to or not.

And don't get him wrong, he had never misunderstood your relationship.

He valued his life far too much to ever test the limits of Asher’s wrath—despite how it seemed.

── But I’m sober right now, aren’t I?

── Then why do I feel so out of control…?

The thought flickered—dangerous, poisonous—before he smothered it with an oblivious sip from his hydration bottle. And then—a slow, creeping shift occurred.

── …ha, but is it really that bad?

His stormy greys glinted, playful yet wicked.

── Noona will want to take care of me better then, won’t she?

His emotions were all over the place, further knotted by the unexpected kindness you’d shown him. But somehow, Nex still clung to his vision—his obsession.

Sure, his heart felt “tainted” at the moment—Impure.

Streaked with fresh anger toward Asher, shadowed by despair, and illuminated by the confusing, intoxicating light of his feelings for you.

But he could make it “pure” again.

Starting with you.

His glimmer of hope—the “half” that had exceeded his expectations.

Perhaps, that was the morbid charm of having a dual obsession—if one failed to deliver, there was always the another to cling to in the meantime.

Moreover, Nex wasn’t as well-versed in dark arts as Asher—he couldn’t undo his mistakes with extensive manipulation and cold calculation—and something ‘additional’ that was clearly beyond his level of comprehension.

But if something bad about Nex remained, something you would probably would not like?

The maknae would make sure to erase it before it was to reach you—like it never existed in the first place.

It seemed no DNA test was required to confirm his shared blood with that blue-eyed Lucifer.

Truly, the universe has a cruel sense of humour, didn’t it?

Oh, and what if it was something stupid and silly about Nex?

Then the maknae would let it slip to you on purpose.

── Since that would mean more hugs from noona, wouldn’t it?

Nex hoped, a smile uncanny to his blue-eyed hyung’s—tugged at his lips, before he got up and heading back to his room to make his makeup smear-proof.

But just like you, Nex wasn't wired to be a carbon copy of your lover.

And no amount of shared blood or twisted experience could rewrite that script.

Because unlike Asher, Nex was human.

Guilt—conscious or not, could cripple him whenever it pleased.

And it did, yet again.

Just when Nex had finished touching up his makeup—he suddenly changed his mind. The maknae wiped it all off, before he could second-guess himself—every trace of the mask he’d built to hide behind.

The freckles, the uneven texture, and all his other imperfections were now exposed.

The reflection that stared back at him was raw. Tired. Vulnerable.

Pathetic, even.

── Why…did I just do that?

His stormy greys stared back at his equally perplexed reflection.

He didn’t fully understand why he’d done it—why the need to strip away his shield suddenly felt so urgent, so necessary.

The hollow ache in his chest only deepened as he faced the cruel version of himself that he had barely gotten used to looking at, yet now completely identified with.

But amidst the confusion, there was a fragile, unspoken hope.

That maybe…. just maybe—you could see past all of it.

The cracks, the haze, the jagged edges that he couldn’t fix.

You were “good,” after all—better than him, seemed better than the rest of his world.

And somehow, in a way he couldn’t fully explain, he hoped you could see him for who he really was.

Something more fragile, more broken—something that needed saving.

But as the thought flickered through his mind, another pang of doubt gripped him—fighting against that fragile hope.

What if, in letting you see him like this, he lost the last of what little control he still had?

What if you saw something he wasn’t ready for you to see?

── No, stop with the doubts.

── Not now. Not when I’m so close to having what I always wanted.

He shook his head, forcing a faint smile to curl at the corners of his lips, his cheeks almost flushing with the lingering high of the thought.

He left the bathroom, eager to return to you, eager to hear the end of your story, eager to drown himself in your presence and forget the chaos inside him.

But the moment he stepped out of the room—his world tilted.

You were hunched over on the couch, trembling.

Your breathing was shallow, uneven, as though each breath was a battle. Tears glistened in your wide, horrified eyes, poised to spill over, as they stayed locked on the screen of his phone.

His mind blanked.

The air seemed to thicken, suffocating, and for a second, the room was silent except for the frantic thrum of his heartbeat. Then, reality slammed into him with a force that nearly took his breath away.

You were in pain.

You were breaking.

And it was all his fault.

The thought seized him, colder than fear, sharper than guilt. He couldn’t bear it—couldn’t let it happen. Not to you too.

“Noona—?!”

The panic in his voice shattered the silence, and he rushed to your side. His movements were frantic—desperate. He ripped the phone from your grasp and flung it aside, hands hovering uselessly for a moment before one shakily pushed your dishevelled hair away from your face, the other gripping your shoulder to steady you.

The words he wanted to deny spilled out—disjointed, frantic—as he realized it was all in vain.

The ugly truth had been already exposed to your tear-stricken eyes.

── It’s…over.

As the seconds dragged, his thoughts unravelled.

Self-loathing crept in, feeding on his mistakes.

── I should’ve added the screen lock back.

And not have removed it in the first-place thinking that his hyung had probably seen everything and not cared to intervene because he had deemed it ‘unimportant’.

In truth, Asher had no idea.

Only getting the ‘report’ of all the bugged devices from the manager—the ‘background noise’ filtered out.

Yet, oblivious to it all—a part of Nex had foolishly, selfishly clung to the hope that one day—just one day—when his hyung wasn’t so busy, he might finally want to pull him out of this tangled "mess".

A mess he had created—but now had lost control of—as it unconsciously drained his very essence along with the drug addiction.

── But I should’ve known better.

── This…is all I’m capable of.

Causing pain. Hurting others.

Being a curse.

Being a monster.

The darkness inside him thickened, suffocating and absolute.

── Yeah. It’s happening again. ── Hyung doesn’t trust me. You shouldn’t either, noona.

── Maybe I’m not worth saving. ── Maybe I shouldn’t have been born in the first place.

── And perhaps...he was right.

── Hyung did end up this way because of me.

── It's all my fault.

His mind choked—as unforgiving guilt and self-reproach clawed at his soul, threatening to consume him entirely, making him want to succumb to the thought of no-return. 

── Maybe I should do everyone a favor and just di—

But then, the icy grip of despair loosened ever so slightly.

Your hand—warm, trembling, yet familiar—settled over his.

Nex could hardly breathe.

The suffocating haze of self-loathing thinned just enough for your words to break through, quiet yet steady.

“You need to tell your hyung about this,” you whispered. “I’ll make sure he helps you—trust me.”

Instinct took over, the need to hide kicking in before the maknae could even process your words. “Noona, I’m telling you, it’s all just a—”

“Stop lying to me, Nex.”

The sharpness of your voice cut through him like nothing else.

He faltered, the words dying in his throat as your gaze locked with his—firm, unwavering.

It felt as though you weren’t just looking at him.

You were seeing him.

The real Nex.

Not the mask, not the lies, not the cute image he clung to, terrified of losing it.

But the scared, fragile boy hiding underneath it all.

His breath stilled, and for a moment, fear twisted in his chest, suffocating him.

── No. She can’t. She can’t possibly—

“I know you and Asher are siblings,” you said, your voice sounding soft, resolute to Nex.

His heart stopped.

But then, with your next words, it pounded harder than ever.

“So, let me help you. Please.”

He stared at you, your words pressing down on him, grounding him and suffocating him all at once.

You weren’t supposed to know. And after knowing, you certainly weren’t supposed to be kind.

Betrayal, disgust, anger—those were the reactions he had braced himself for. Those would’ve made sense. Yet here you were, shattering the newly set expectation he'd barely readjusted to.

You were no longer an angel in his eyes.

You became an enigma—a goddess.

His benevolent goddess.

Someone who, even after uncovering the filth he was buried in, still reached out a hand.

And in that moment, something profound shifted within Nex.

He felt compelled—no, bound—to tell his truth.

To you and only you.

·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Link for story so far: https://www.quotev.com/story/16788120/Secret-비밀

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 11

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH. 11

“One paddle-paddle, two paddle-paddle-.”

“HEYYY! Miss me, little brother?”

“...What the f-”

“It’s ironic! You used to smother me, with your dependency and lack of originality. Now I’m smothering you, by keeping you in a cage. It’s poetic, in a way.”

“...What are you supposed to be?”

“It’s just me, Stanford Pines. I’m definitely your twin brother, and not a maniac who kidnapped you because I can’t admit when I’m wrong or accept that I push people away.”

“Naw, you’re not him.”

“I assure you-.”

“No. Whatever you are? You’re not the guy who's been keeping me down here. You’re something else.”

“Oh?”

“This some… Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation? You one of those hive mind aliens that possess people? Or…?”

“Sixer was right to not underestimate you, conman. Let’s just say I’m a friend.”

“I’ve heard that before, but I recognize another wiseguy when I see one. What do you really want?”

“Why are you in denial, Stanley?”

“Denial is my fourth best skill, actually. It’s right above hoeing, and right below theft.”

“...Ignoring that. Why do you keep insisting you’re not Stanley Pines?”

“Show me the proof, guy.”

“You and Stanford have the same face.”

“Some people are just like that.”

“You have no memory of having a family, but Fordsy here has a gap in his, a gap you could slot into so easily.”

“Lot’s of families ‘lose’ members to homelessness.”

“Sounding a little bitter there, conman. Got personal feelings about that?”

“People aren’t ‘lost’ to homelessness, they’re forgotten. For the comfort of everyone else; for people who love to wax poetically about how other people struggle, but don’t have the stomach to look at it with their own eyes.”

“Well, well, well, well, well-.”

“Buddy, you get a nickel every time you say that?”

“Funny. What’s also funny is your ‘deep insight’. You’re so mad about people like you being forgotten, and yet… You forgot you.”

“What’s your point?”

“Why are you afraid of remembering? Are you afraid that you’ll remember loving people who couldn’t be bothered to remember you?”

“You seem to think you know a lot about me. Why don’t you tell me?”

“I think you cling to this ‘hardcore vagabond with no past’ persona because it’s convenient for you. Because it’s less painful for you. I think you wanted something so bad at one point that it consumed you, and when you couldn’t have it, there wasn’t anything significant left of you.”

“Wow. That’s quite a theory. Wanna hear the one I have about you?”

“Hit me, conman.”

“Oh, I wish I could. My theory is that you’re a lonely, nosey, parasitic little bi-.”

*‘Ford’ presses the mute button*

“Sorry Stanley, but I’m getting the last laugh here- and you’re giving me the bird. No, two birds. The audience will never know if you’re actually doing that, or if I’m just saying that you are.”

(...)

“Hey, Doc?”

“Yes, Stanley?”

“You know how I normally don’t ask you questions about your life because you’re crazy and I’m here against my will?”

“...Are you about to ask me a question?”

“Did you make a Faustian bargain with some eldritch abomination?”

“...What?!”

“Or… Do you use cocaine? I’d believe either, but I can help you with that second one if that’s it; you see, the key to kicking the habit is-.”

“Stanley. Why are you asking this?”

“Because last night something possessed you and tried talking to me about my feelings. But it failed because I don’t have any. What was that?”

“...Nothing possessed me.”

“PhD, you are terrible at lying.”

“Nobody possessed me! You must have just been dreaming.”

“No, I don’t have dreams. I only have nightmares about being suffocated. Or the IRS. Or the IRS suffocating me.”

“...What?”

“Are you a Warlock?”

“A- a what?”

“There’s this game that dorks play - and there's elves, and wizards, and stuff. Warlocks are those guys who use magic, but they have to get it from otherworldly entities. Are you that? Is that what you are?”

“...You are talking about the tabletop roleplaying game, Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons?”

“Yes.”

“You.. play that?”

“No. I never played it.”

“But you know the mechanics?”

“Some of it. Just the basic stuff. None of the actual- I don’t know, rules? Something something something D38; something something something THAC0.”

“How do you know?”

“I dunno, I don’t think too hard about it. Anyways,  so you’re a Warlock and you’re hiding it because your patron, boss, eldritch pimp, or whatever you wanna call it is gonna be mad at you? Is that what this is?”

“Stanley, please. Stuff like that is simply… fantasy.”

“Oh really? This is coming from the guy who has an anatomically accurate poster of a dissected fairy that you drew yourself.”

“...You can see that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s right over there.”

“Stanley, you should not be able to see that. It’s too far away, and you’re not wearing glasses or contacts.”

“Doc, I don’t need glasses.”

“You have needed them our entire lives, just like I do. You have a bad habit of breaking them, or not wearing them because you think you won’t look cool.”

“Shows just how much you know. Are you gonna tell me what that thing last night was? Or are you going to keep changing the topic and hope that I get too distracted to follow up?”

“Nothing happened last night. I’m not a warlock. I can’t believe you lied to me all those years ago when you told me you ignored all of my long talks about the finer mechanics and lore surrounding DD&D. And you should need glasses.”

*Ford goes upstairs*

“Well, guess I have nothing better to do than to take a nap. I wonder how the IRS is going to suffocate me this time…”

To be continued…

[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.