#THE FUCKING CALLIOPE?! THE STRANGER?!

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

god I hate how brutal pipe murder is actually becoming funny to me now. …i’ve hit rock bottom. or ascended. I don’t know…

[bananonbinary]

i cant believe i only just realized, underneath the clown makeup and calliope music the Stranger is playing off of fucking stranger danger. they LITERALLY snatched jon off the street in an unmarked van, like that's a real common danger and not shit you hear about in a morning school assembly.

i'm surprised they never offered him candy laced with drugs. you could probably legitimately get away from them by Finding A Trusted Adult.

[the-southern-cereal-king]

I’m relistening to tma for the umpteenth time, and some of the statements are horrifying, yes, but some are so fucking funny to think about in context.

MAG 24 Strange music, MAG 38 Lost and Found, and MAG 103 Cruelty Free are three that come to mind.

In MAG 24, the grandfather of the statement giver loves his granddaughter so much his power of the Stranger came and killed her shitty bf and then Breekon and Hope looney tunes style stole her calliope.

In MAG 38, a homophobic vase steals a man’s husband and makes him experience adhd spatial awareness.

In MAG 104, a killer pig did not kill his owner, and chose to chill with him, and ended up being sealed into a cement prison.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream is ambivalent about A/B/O genders. He's seen enough shit in the universe in billion years, current human civilization doesn't even come close to his definition of 'strange.' Still, he tried on various genders like clothes (he feels most comfortable being an omega), and even hoped in secret that Calliope would be amenable to mating when they got married. He breached the subject very tentatively, found out she was not delighted by the prospect of being tied to an Endless at all, and they never touched upon it again. Their marriage crashed and burned soon anyway, so it must have been for the best. After their reunion with Hob post-fishbowl, Dream decides to take him up on his offer to meet more frequently and drops by. The timing is unfortunate (or fortunate, depends on the point of view!) as his human alpha friend turns out to be in the middle of his rut. And maybe Dream is not versed in human communication and rites, but even he understands that it's better to leave and return next week. Which he is about to do before Hob very enthusiastically jumps his bones. Dream is extremely confused and tries to talk Hob out of this endeavor - he believes Hob is not interested in him like THAT, but Hob is as single-minded as only an alpha in a rut can be and showers Dream with all the words of passion and praise his fevered brain can come with. When he drops the l-word, Dream melts and gives in. They spend Hob's rut together, and Dream is on cloud nine: he feels cherished, desired, and, above all, LOVED. So when Hob suddenly bites him, Dream is not opposed at all. Alright, it'd have been better etiquette if they had discussed it beforehand, but Dream currently is more occupied being happy because 1) his love is requited; 2) Hob wants him as his mate! The problem is, Hob'd have never dared to jump his Stranger like that, let alone do anything to him. He hoped that if he's lucky, maybe he can try to court him…in 500 years or so. To him, all that occurred was just a feverish rut dream. So when Hob comes to his senses once his rut is over, he finds a very fucked out Dream looking at him with heart eyes in his bed, sees a fresh mating bite on his neck…and panics. Dream immediately comes to the conclusion that Hob already regrets their mating and dissolves into sand, retreating to the Dreaming before he starts crying in the presence of this human - his mate - that humiliated him so. Chaos ensues!

Oh dear. These idiots! They're both as bad as each other, really.

Hob is just horrified that he'd done that to his stranger - to Dream! It's totally taboo to bite someone without even talking about it, and they certainly didn't do that. Hob doesn't even know if Dream wanted it! Wait - what if he started crying and disappeared because he didn't want it!? Hob ends up running to the bathroom and throwing up at the mere idea. How could he do such a heinous thing to the man he loves?!

Meanwhile Dream is flooding the dreaming with his tears (yes, literally) because he thinks that his mate regrets everything and probably hates him. How can he face Hob ever again? He'll have to, because they're mated... if Dream goes into heat, he'll need Hob. Being without him simply won't be an option.

Desire, Despair and Death are all sitting in the threshold and collectively groaning because the idiots are idioting. And Matthew has had enough of trying not to drown in the dreaming, so he makes an executive raven decision and heads to the waking world.

He immediately confronts Hob (who is still panick stricken and white as a sheet) about why he rejected the boss?? And Hob just gapes at him like "rejected??? i thought i assaulted him!!!" Matthew face-palms. Face-wings. Whatever. He tells Hob to go the fuck to sleep and fix things.

Easier said than done. But Hob eventually gets to the dreaming, swims through the tears, and finds his poor miserable mate curled up on his throne. Dream doesn't look up at all until Hob nuzzles his mating bite. The flood recedes a little bit. And Hob tries to explain as tenderly as he can, why he freaked out when he woke up.

Dream falls even more in love with him, honestly.

And three weeks later, they spend Dream’s first heat with a mate together in Hob’s bed. It's everything he's ever wanted. And Dream gets to bite Hob, giving his alpha a perfect mating bite to match his own.

And yes, Matthew gets so many raven treats as a reward for his service to his King.

[mindfang-srevenge]

Homestuck Kids and Which TMA Entity They're Associated With: A Second List By Static, with ADDITIONAL NOTATION That None Of This Is An Insult to Anyone

Read the first of these, featuring the OG troll gang: here

John: Desolation, and hear me out. Much like the argument I made for Sollux, everything gets ripped away from John over and over again. He loses his world, then his house, then his LIFE, then his DAD, then his FRIENDS, then his LIFE (again). John is continually losing everything he cares about, and it forms a weirdly core part of his character, especially considering the fact that he keeps repressing that loss and presenting a chipper face over it.

Rose: Eye. Rose is all about finding secrets (how she fell in with Doc Scratch) and breaking the game in the most interesting way possible. She stumbles across the game because she's looking for information about how to bring Jaspers back. She's constantly looking to shed light on secrets and discover answers, which is definitely eye-aligned. She's even willing to make a pact with the Horrorterrors to find out information about the Green Sun and the end of the game, which makes her an avatar in my book.

Dave: This might just be the overarching entity for all Time players, actually, but Dave-- much like Aradia-- is End aligned due to his reoccurring fascination with dead things. The man outright admits it several times-- he's just as fascinated by death as she is, with perhaps even a more morbid tilt than traditional archaeology. He's also a time traveler, which makes him continually privy to information about how the others will die unless he does something (with Davesprite as a noteable example). If he took on a more passive role (Knights are an active class) I think this might present itself a little more heavily, much like Aradia's connection is more prominent. Basically maybe aradia and dave should just hang outsometime they might be friends ahave we considered this yet hang on wait where are you going---

Jade: Vast, but heavily influenced by the Lonely. We can't talk about Jade without discussing the heavy influences that her isolation has had over her life, but her powers align so heavily with the Vast that that isolation takes on an entirely different context. She's separated from everyone but Bec by vast expanses of ocean. She has the ability to make things Vast or not-Vast by virtue of being a Space player. She is, once again, separated from everyone during the Yard by vast expanses of paradox space. She is continually alone, but in that alone-ness she's physically isolated, which overall pushes her from Lonely to a proper Vast categorization.

Jane: Extinction. In the alpha timeline, Jane is the herald of the end, but she's more than that. She's the heiress to CrockerCorp, the establishment that will eventually fucking TERRAFORM the entire earth-- which, if that doesn't classify as an extinction-level event, I don't know what does. Jane's also our introductory character for a dead session, wherein all of the consorts are literally extinct. Really the CrockerCorp stuff is more important, though-- Jane oftentimes remains loyal to the company, even going as far as to restart it on Earth C, despite what CrockerCorp has previously been responsible. She's constantly a herald of change, and death.

Roxy: Dark. It's low-hanging fruit, sure, but she's heavily textually involved with the obscuring of information. I DISTINCTLY REMEMBER, although I cannot find the text sources for it, that when she's drunk, Calliope can't see her, which is VERY Dark-aligned. Roxy's methods are also obscured, since she's a void player, and she's a Derse dreamer, which means her mental state is . . . also pretty dark, if just metaphorically. Due to her position in the retcon, as well, Roxy's past is obscured, lost to another universe entirely.

Dirk: This motherfucker is hard to sort, but in a pinch I think I'd say Stranger over Web. He does have definite ties to the Web-- if it were a thing in TMA, I'd say he serves both simultaneously, but that's a purely fanon construct so we're gonna play it safe. Dirk is constantly hiding his true self behind layers of masks, mirrors, and splinters. Nobody can every talk to the real Dirk Strider-- instead, they end up talking to Hal or DreamGhostDirk or some other similar entity. The puppet stuff draws into this, as well-- the original Lil Cal is Dirk's, before LE takes over the body, and Lil Cal is a horrorshow of Stranger imagery. (He's also just a horrorshow) Dirk is obsessed with building almost-human constructions (see Squarewave and Sawtooth), as well as hiding behind these constructs to conceal himself or his motives. Overall, Stranger, with heavy ties to the Web.

Jake: Lonely. Even when he's around people, Jake has trouble connecting. Whereas Jade is separated physically, Jake is also separated socially. He can't seem to make the relationship with Dirk ever work out (even if a chunk of that is Dirk's fault). He can't talk to Jane about anything, ever, especially that he's not interested in her.

[cactusspatz]

July recs

It might be the very last day of the month, but that means I'm not late! Five Sandman recs under the cut, and one each for Batman, Murderbot, and Biggles.

SANDMAN

What Manner Of Creature by @ro-moray (Dream/Hob)

Hob's had a number of theories about his strange friend over the years. They are all, of course, completely incorrect.

Great through-the-years look at Hob and Dream, with humor and understanding.

to dream you was remembering by @cuubism (Dream/Hob)

Hob understands now both why Dream created this nightmare, as well as why doing so was an unconscious rather than conscious act, and the thought hurts more than the nightmare itself. After all, Hob has had four hundred years to grapple with his own loss. He's not sure that, even after so much time, Dream has grappled with his.

Short scene with Hob and Dream and a baby nightmare, but it packs a hell of an emotional punch.

The Dread and Fear of Kings by @maybemalapert (gen)

"I'm afraid I'm not much into charcoal sketches," Hob said, taking in the crude rendition of himself and his Stranger that he'd last seen in the hands of Johanna Constantine. "Now, oil paintings on the other hand--" "Mr. Gadlen," the man interrupted. "I have gone to great lengths to find you and to confirm that it was indeed you who met with Dream of the Endless in 1889 and every century prior. Let me assure you, I do not make a habit of kidnapping people on a whim."

Deliciously whumpy fishbowl rescue with Burgess being a real bastard (what else). Happy ending, but mind the tags.

Yours for the Taking by @signiorbenedickofpadua (Calliope/Dream/Hob)

When Hob spots a sad woman in white through a window of a famous author's house, he gets a bad feeling. Further investigation reveals that she's in need of rescue, but what Hob isn't prepared for is the fact that the woman he sets out to save turns out to be a literal Greek goddess, the ex-wife of the Stranger he keeps waiting for, and a rather lovely person to boot.

SUCH a good and satisfying read, with a skillful build to the three-way romance.

more sky comes and more days by Chrome/@catalists (Calliope/Dream/Hob)

In the aftermath of her imprisonment, Calliope is determined to learn to trust humans again, so she finds a roommate and settles in the mortal world. Meanwhile, her former husband has been on another quest that ended in grief, and he seeks her out for solace. What could possibly go wrong? or, “Hey, Zed,” Hob answered. “Something the matter?” “Yes,” she said. “Calliope’s ex showed up and he’s fucking terrifying.”

Really enjoyed this way of them all colliding - funny and bittersweet at turns - and the resolution.

MISC

Birdwatch11 by @smilebackwards (Batman, gen)

Tim hadn’t actually meant to start a popular Batwatch blog. He hadn’t meant to start a blog at all honestly but by the time he turned eleven he’d accumulated hundreds of pictures of Batman and Robin on his Nikon DSLR and it had just seemed inefficient to go through the trouble of printing them and storing them in a box under his bed when BlogSphere had a perfectly adequate platform.

Short, funny, sweet story about someone trying to claim credit for Tim's pre-Robin photo habit, and his A+++ response.

in recognition by isilee (Murderbot, gen)

Volescu's first communication from SecUnit, once it had pieced together its brain again and settled into Preservation a little more, appeared in his feed inbox right as he took a sip of his morning coffee.

*dies laughing* In which Murderbot recognizes Volescu for having the sense to retire. Cute look at the friendship of the whole survey group.

Biggles in Sarawak by @philomytha (Biggles/von Stalhein)

Biggles is asked to help the CIA transport a Soviet spy they've captured in a remote jungle location. The trouble is, the spy is Erich von Stalhein. And that's only the first problem.

Excellent adventure jam-packed with tropes from hurt/comfort to teaming-up-with-your-nemesis to sex pollen (with said nemesis, of course).

[lostelfwriting]

Fic Masterlist

Split into 3 categories: Fluff, Smut, Angst

All my FLUFF fics

(((Dream/Hob unless stated otherwise))) ((("~Xk" is the wordcount in thousands)))

Palm-Sized Cosmic Entity: ~2k, Tiny Dream and Caretaker Hob

Palm-Sized Immortal Knight: ~2k, Tiny Hob and Dream who is in denial about curse-breaking

the sun burns brighter with you by my side: ~3k, Human AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, CW: panic attack

Dream a Dream of a Little Me: ~2k, Hob wants to know how Dream looked as a baby, CW: implied Mpreg

Ice Skating AU: ~10k total, mostly fluff with plot

A Nice Christmas: ~3k, Christmas fic, Dream learning how to relationships

The Joining: ~1k, subfic for Phin's Soiteria, Wedding fic (well, a wedding-like bonding ritual)

Angel: ~2k, Songfic, Grief and Healing

The White Stag: ~2k, Fairytale AU

All my SMUT fics

(((Dream/Hob unless stated otherwise))) ((("~Xk" is the wordcount in thousands)))

Dancing with the Brutes, Fucking the Stars: ~27k, Professional Dom Hob/Dancer Dream, CW: self-worth issues, depression

if you just let me (have you, love you): ~25k, Porn Stars AU, BDSM and proper communication

A Miracle in Us: ~WIP, Mpreg

Reunited in Heart, Touch, and Bed: ~4k, Angst, Smut, and Fluff, CW: overstimulation, rough sex

Arcana vs Bandits: ~4k, Football AU with Smut, CW: major injury

Might Be Just a Dream...: ~6k, Human AU, Hob/Corinthian/Morpheus Threesome, CW: masochism

Glory to Dream: ~1k, Glory Hole fic, Dream/strangers under Hob's supervision

Messy: ~1k, Immortal Throuple, BDSM, trans,sub Dream, trans,dom Calliope, dom Hob

Piece Out (Or In): ~5k, Human AU, Shameless Smut, Crack Treated Seriously, Sexy Chess Game

To Hold and Dream: ~8k, A/B/O, Human AU, Student/Teacher, Unexpected Heat fic (1st chapter)

Today: ~1k, Slice of Life but kinky, Long-Term Chastity (voluntary sex slave!Hob)

The Other Ritual: ~2k, subfic for Phin's Soiteria, TW Body Horror

control my thoughts, don't let them hurt me: ~6k, BDSM, Rewards, Domestic Control

Make Me Feel Powerful: ~2k, BDSM, Rough Sex, TW: Consensual Non-Consent (Roleplay)

Queen Brat: ~3k, Lucienne/Titania, Platonic BDSM, Domme Lucienne, sub Titania

stubornness pays off: ~1k, Piss Kink fic

Human Rescue and Rehome Program: ~7k, Alien AU, Alien Dream, Alien Kidnapping

Marked by Death: ~7k, CW Body Horror in the 1st Chapter, Human AU with a Twist, worship, overstimulation, rough sex (2nd chapter)

Helping Himself to His Bad Dreams: ~3k, TW Rape/Non-Con, Dream assumes that Hob wants to have sex more often, so he forces himself to have sex with Hob while Hob is drunk. It hurts them both.

All my ANGST fics

(((Dream/Hob unless stated otherwise))) ((("~Xk" is the wordcount in thousands)))

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns: ~32k, Human AU, Hanahaki Disease

Dreamling Whumptober 2023: ~31k, many different whumps

Falling, Fallen, For You: ~7k, A/B/O, Kid fic, Dream being bad at feelings, Happy Ending

Friend of the Sea: ~7k, Mermaid Hob/Prince Dream

The Dust Settled around Us: ~8k, Human AU, Post-Apocalyptic

Black Smoke and Hurting Hearts: ~4k, Firefighters AU, Human AU, Rescue Mission

To Hold and Dream: ~8k, A/B/O, Human AU, Student/Teacher, break-up and getting back together (2nd chapter)

the precarious space at the end of the world: ~2k, the end of the world, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Happy Ending

If I Am Nothing, If I Am Trying: ~6k, Human AU, Homophobia, Time is a Bad Parent

we become daydreamers: ~17k, A/B/O, Human AU, Homeless Omega Hob, Rich Alpha Dream, Grief and Trauma

Safety is a Person: ~6k, CW Mpreg, Dream finds out he's pregnant while in the fishbowl; Hob to the rescue!

The Last Punishment I Will Need: ~1k, no ship, Corinthian-centric Whump Fic

your happiness lies in my dreams: ~3k, Human AU, Abusive Relationship

you are here to stay this time: ~1k, Post-Comics, Bad Coping Mechanisms

Marked by Death: ~7k, TW Body Horror, Injury, Brutish Medical Practices, Human AU with a Twist (1st chapter)

The Hunt: ~9k, A/B/O, Human AU, Angst and Fucked-Upness, TW Unmated Omegas are forced to participate in The Hunt where Alphas can… anything. Hob is an imposter who tries to protect the participating Omegas.

Telling Bite: ~1k, TW Implied Non-Con, Burgess forces Dream into prostitution.

The Black Void I Cannot Fix: ~4k, TW Implied Non-Con, human!Dream gets roofied at the New Inn, doesn't tell Hob, tries to fix himself, Hopeful Ending

[trailmixedup]

Was fucking haunted by a calliope on my way home from a hike yesterday… it was legit so loud and I couldn’t figure out where exactly it was coming from. Hope this doesn’t mean I’m stranger bait

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Ahh, please do tell, what is Parks and Reunions?

My apologies for being so so so late to answering this, my only excuse is that Calliope caught me in a chokehold and forced me to do nothing but write on the Sense8 fic for a bit. Unfortunately, she seems to have left me alone for the moment, but that means I have brainpower over for finally answering some asks, so that's a silver lining! 😅

So the basic concept for this fic is that Hob finally meets Dream again on the same day as in canon, just a few hours earlier. That is to say, he happens to see him in the park as he feeds the pidgeons and talks to Death... Here's a snippet:

“—occur to you that I would be worried about you?” “I didn’t think y—” “Exactly. You didn’t think.” Hob was close enough to hear their words clearly now. Another couple of steps and he was just behind the woman, still unnoticed. He stopped, opened his mouth to call attention to himself, and— “Heads up!” —and then something slammed into the back of his head. Next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, staring up at the sky and a bunch of worried, blurry faces. Perhaps their blurriness was what was worrying them. Ah, no, they were slowly returning to normal as his eyes adjusted, growing sharp enough to be identifiable as his Stranger, the Mystery Woman and some extraordinarily sweaty lads in sportswear. “Fuck, mate… You okay?” one of the young men said. “Ow,” said Hob, who had barely regained enough mental wherewithal to register that his head was pounding rather painfully. “He’s fine,” said the woman with a smile. She was not among the worried, it would seem. “You sure? Shouldn’t we get a doctor or something?” asked Unnamed Footballer #2. “Yeah, head stuff ain’t just something you walk off,” agreed #3, “Ask my mate Sean.” What happened to Sean? Hob wondered, but he said nothing as he felt that a polysyllabic sentence might be a bit beyond him still, seeing as he got a bit dizzy just by moving his gaze between the people speaking. He solved this problem by resting his eyes on his Stranger instead, who had remained silent thus far yet seemed to be somewhat concerned for Hob, if the slight crease between his eyebrows was anything to go on. That was promising. Hob found he much preferred this expression to the furious one he had last been at the wrong end of.

[initial-lime]

During MAG 24 you can hear vague people talking in the background when Sasha interrupts to have the whole calliope conversation

Which suggests a couple possibilities

1. There’s more than 4 people working in the archive (this is likely, however where the fuck did they go and they are NEVER mentioned again)

2. There’s people from the rest of the institute in the archive (also likely, but uniquely funny considering they all decide to stay the hell out of the archive after s1)

3. Foreshadowing, we’re hearing the tapes played back to us after the fact (?) and the extra voices while Sasha is talking is overlap of the stranger (unlikely, this is a tape where her voice isn’t changed, it never happens again)

4. Either tim or Martin are playing a “people speaking” ASMR video out loud (my personal favorite explanation, I believe they would do this specifically to piss off Jon)

[scifrey]

Cling Fast: Chapter Three

By Losyark

The Sandman (Netflix with some sprinkling of comics canon, and Gaiman Cinematic Universe canon)

Dreamling (Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless | Morpheus)

Unfinished

PG-13 (for now)

Unbeta’d

*

It's a diary. It's Eleanor's diary. Hob hadn't even known El had kept a diary.

Though this is the Dreaming and Hob doesn’t strictly need to breathe if he doesn’t want to, he feels all the air punch out of his lungs in a soft, wounded noise. Hob staggers and clutches at the shelf beside him to stay upright, but Lucienne must have turned up the gravity because his legs suddenly buckle. Hob slides down the shelf and lands in a cloud of cloth-of-gold and disbelief.

“It’s her handwriting,” is the first shaky thing he says, flipping open the cover. “I�� I never thought I’d see it again, I never…” the rest of the sentence is lost in an ugly, phlegmy hiccough.

Morpheus folds himself into a more human shape, sinking to sit on the floor beside Hob. He presses his arm and leg against Hob’s, and places his hand palm up on Hob’s knee. Hob takes it and squeezes hard.

“And it exists?” Hob asks shakily, pressing the dream-book to his heart. “It’s on this shelf, so it still exists, right?”

“It exists in the Waking world, yes,” Morpheus says gently.

“God’s teeth,” Hob whuffs out. “I… I can’t believe… thank you. Thank you, my friend!” 

Hob turns his face to Morpheus, intent on meeting his eyes and making it clear how much this means to him. But Morpheus is already looking at him, sky-dark eyes pinned to Hob’s expression, a thin line of mercury along his own lashes.

“Why are you crying?” Hob sniffles.

“Your joy is palpable,” Morpheus says. “It is moving.”

Hob places the book gently in his lap and then, with his free hand, he reaches up and places his palm against one of Morpheus’ gaunt cheeks. He brushes the cheekbone tenderly, noting that there’s more substance to Morpheus’ physical incarnation of late–the work of the spanakopita, and tapas, and wine that Hob has been laying before him, an offering to the God of Sleep, Hob hopes. He’d just looked so thin after Tawny Rig, and while Hob is aware that Morpheus’ chosen corporation can change to suit Morpheus’ whims, he hated seeing his friend look so… hungry.

Hungry for touch, and conversation, and companionship, and kindness and, Hob hoped, maybe one specific immortal human’s devotion. Morpheus is looking more content, more fulfilled, more satisfied lately. Hob likes to tell himself that his one-man-campaign to repair the damage that the Burgess bastards had done was succeeding.

Morpheus raises his own free hand, and cups Hob’s where it rests against his cheek. His eyes slip shut, and Hob allows himself a split second to look down at Morpheus’ mouth. His lips are parted slightly, petal-pink and enticing. 

Instead of pressing his own against them, he rests his forehead against Morpheus’, content in the intimacy of their shared breath and understanding. Hob is happy to have this much of his Stranger. He has no right to press for more, not when Morpheus has never given him any indication that he would be receptive to any sexual advances from his pet human.

Hob’s not even that sure that Morpheus engages in physical demonstrations of love like that, anyway. Morpheus had told him, in spare detail, of his ex-wife Calliope and their doomed son Orpheus. And he’d only done so when he’d had to miss a Tuesday hang to rescue her. Hob figures his own grief has kept him from bringing up the lad before then.

So while Hob knows that the ancient Greek and Roman gods were a horny bunch, Hob’s not certain that this means that, you know, Morpheus fucks. Zeus got people pregnant in the shape of golden showers and swans, after all. Who knows how cosmic beings intermingle their essences to procreate.

So Hob’s not about to push it. Not without a clear sign from his Stranger than anything more that what they already have would be welcome. And if it never is, well… Hob can live with that. He’ll have to.

Morpheus releases a shaky sigh, and squeezes their intertwined hands once more before letting go and sitting back. Hob, feeling significantly more settled, retreats enough to lean back against the bookshelf. When he does, he’s startled to find a carpet of small, pink diamond-petalled flowers have grown up around their legs.

“What are these?”

“Camellias,” Morpheus offers, but doesn’t explain further.

Hob lets it go, and turns his attention back to the diary. He flips the pages gently, as if this version of the book is as fragile as the one he’s going to have to track down in the Waking will be. In the way of dreams, Hob can’t read it here. But he knows, innately, what the pages contain.

The first dozen or so pages contain music notations, lyrics, little ditties El had obviously heard and wanted to record. But around the time that she meets Hob for the first time, the diary becomes a confessional. Out of respect of Eleanor’s privacy, he skips those entries. If she’d wanted him to know her first, intimate thoughts of him, she would have shared the book with her husband. Still, again in the way that one knows things in dreams, without ingesting the details Hob knows that the prose becomes a full-on Twilight-esque hearthrob angstfest romance.

He doesn’t recall their courtship being that fraught, but her father had disapproved of the match. He’d wanted a son-in-law a few more rungs up the social ladder. But El had known her own mind and heart and wasn’t to be talked out of Hob, even if he had bought his knighthood and title instead of inheriting it like a good courtier ought. For which Hob had been grateful, everyday of their marriage.

After the tumultuous entries come steamy ones that detail the exploits of their honeymoon. Hob quickly pages past those ones, ears burning. Hob had three centuries of experience to impart on his lovely new wife, and she hadn’t exactly been a blushing virgin herself, but there’s no need to expose Morpheus (who is reading over his shoulder) to all that.

After that come the entries that Hob had really hoped for: lists and recountings of the daily running of the household. There’s still some steamy bits, El’s satisfaction and desire purring up off the pages at them, but mostly the latter pages are filled with the gold mine of daily mundanities.

“This is incredible,” Hob breathes, and Morpheus makes a humming noise of agreement. "This is absolutely what I need to bring to the first meeting with the writing team."

He gestures into the air, and a moment later Lucienne is rounding the end of the row.

“You have need of me, My Lord?” she asks, and then freezes when she catches sight of the flowers crawling all around the pooled fabric of their respective cloaks. “Oh, my.”

“Yeah, we look like something CLAMP studios spat up, I know,” Hob says, climbing to his feet and shaking the loose petals off his banyan.

Morpheus flows to his feet far more elegantly, and says: “Hob needs to locate a book in the Waking world. Could you please assist him in mapping it?”

“Of… of course, my Lord,” Lucienne agrees, her professional composure only slightly ruffled. She keeps glancing back down at the flowers as if they’re about to leap into the air and choke her.

Well, if Hob was the librarian around here and his master and just dumped a bunch of vegetation all over the place, Hob would be annoyed too. He doesn’t blame her for the sideways glances.

“This way, Master Gadling,” she says, gesturing him to follow. 

“See you tomorrow night?” Hob asks Morpheus, in parting.

“No,” Morpheus says. “But perhaps the one after that.”

“Gotchya,” Hob says. “And thank you again, my friend. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Sweet dreams!”

With that, he races after Lucienne, who’s already half a gallery ahead of him. As Hob kicks up the petals, they dissolve into a fine pink cloud that smell deliciously of cotton candy.

*

A.Z. Fell and Co. has the most obtuse opening hours imaginable, and Hob knows for a fact that it’s on purpose.

He times it right and catches the shop just after opening the next afternoon. He pushes in the door and delights in the scent of old paper and ink, the tinkle of the little antique bell, and the warm of the sunshine cutting in through the glass dome at its center. The place is, as the youth would say, “very aesthetic”. Dark Academica crossed with Discombobulated Professor, and just a dash of Don’t Touch My Mess I Know Where Everything Is.

“Nooooo,” comes floating out of the shadows to the eastern side of the shop, where Hob knows the Bookseller’s heaped-upon desk sits beside the great curved windows facing the street.

But it’s not the Bookseller’s voice.

Hob sticks his head around the end of a shelf, and cannot believe what he sees: the Bentley Snake. He’s lounging indolently  battered armchair set beside a desk, in that boneless way he has There's a martini in hand at 2pm and an extremely unimpressed look on his face.

The Snake and the Bookseller? In one place? Hob looks around to see if Joanna Constantine is lounging on another chair with a cuppa and a ciggy. Maybe the Maquis de Carabas is in the backroom helping the Bookseller make tea, and Ditchwater Sal is perusing the YA section. Christ, has he stumbled into some sort of Legion of Otherfolk without realizing it? He sure as hell hopes not. He’s got shit to do.

“No,” the Snake says again. “Whatever it is you’re looking to buy, he’s not–oh, it’s you.”

“Hello to you too, I suppose,” Hob says graciously. “How’ve you been?”

“Sssssince good old Harold Wilson's facial? You know, things to do, mischief to cause.”

“That still wasn’t my fault,” Hob reminds the Snake. “I only sold that boy those eggs.”

The snake snickers, and peers up at Hob from behind his glasses, gauging Hob’s reaction to this whole pageant, his eyes flash yellow.

He’s going to have to try a lot harder to intimidate Hob now, if that’s what he’s going for. Decades ago, Hob had been cautious around the Bentley Snake, not knowing what he was and not wanting to find himself on the wrong end of a situation that a human–immortal or not–would find unpleasant.  Now, Hob is drinking buddies with a talking Raven, and close friend to an actual god-slash-anthropormorphic personification of a cosmic concept. Whatever fey creatures the Bookseller and the Snake are, they wouldn’t dare try to harm him now. Besides that, he’s never given them reason to want to.

“Ah! Hello dear fellow!” the Bookseller says from behind Hob, making him startle.

"God'sblood!" Hob cries, clutching at his heart and spinning to face the man-shaped creature.

"She hasn't got any," the Snake says contrarily, as if Hob is supposed to have any idea what he means by that.

"Someone ought to put a bell on you, friend," Hob says jovially, and holds out his hand to shake, because he has learned over the centuries that manners matter, no matter what kind of entity you're treating with.

"I already have my wings," the Bookseller chuckles, again, as if Hob had any bloody idea what he was talking about. "Are you here to sell or buy, old chap?"

"Buy, I suppose," Hob admits, quailing only a little at the way the sun above the shop is suddenly lost behind clouds. "Or… or borrow, if you'd prefer?"

The syrupy golden sunlight returns.

"Borrowing we can arrange," the Bookseller—who, as far as Hob is aware, has never actually sold a tome in his long life—says with glee. "Anything to support our fine institutions of learning."

"Anything, he says," the Snake snorts.

"Hush, dearest." And then, to Hob: "What are you after?"

Hob hands over the letter that Lucienne had written for him. She'd cautioned him not to break the seal, not to attempt to read it himself, and not to look the Bookseller in the face while he read it either. Hob had found it then next morning on the empty pillow beside him. Well, almost empty—he'd had to carefully maneuver it into the bathroom to tip the lingering dream sand into the tub so he didn't accidentally fall asleep again.

As the Bookseller peruses the missive, Hob admires the first editions of Crompton's Just William series in pride of place on the windowsill. There are a few titles there that he doesn't remember having seen before, and he wonders if the Bookseller might let him come back sometime to read them (carefully!) from the safety of the sagging sofa in the shop's reading nook.

"Well, how delightful!" the Bookseller says at last, which Hob takes to mean that he's done reading. "Isn't it a miracle? I happen to have that very box of documents in my back room. I was just cataloging all of the Gadlen estate’s papers in preparation for the move. Don't move, I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

With that he hands the letter to the Snake, who runs his eyes over it quickly. Then, before Hob can wonder if they'll give it back to him so he can read what Lucienne wrote, the letter goes up in a quick, incandescent flash of unnaturally red fire. The burning paper doesn't seem to bother the man holding it. The Snake doesn't even blow on his fingers once the letter is reduced to ash.

“And here we are, Hob Gadling!” the Bookseller says, coming out of the back with a massive wooden crate. It’s filthy with dust, and must only be half-filled, because it’s far too large for any one man to move alone.

“You actually gonna let him walk outta here with ‘em, angel? S'unusual.”

“Oh, well,” the Bookseller fusses at the Snake, indulgent and affectionate. “Can’t take everything to South Downs, now can we, dear boy?”

The Snake ripples more than shrugs, but a flush flags across his nose and cheeks at the casual endearment. 

Ah, Hob thinks to himself. That explains a lot.

"Thank you for loaning them to me," Hob says instead of the observation he wants to make.

"No loan, sir, no loan. I'm only returning what is rightfully yours. I was only too happy to keep them safe for you after that awful business with the lake. Now, which way to your car, my good man?" the Bookseller asks, and chivvies the Snake into holding open the door for them as he traipses down the sidewalk.

They part with more handshakes and kind words, and absolutely empty promises to see one another again. It’s only when he gets it back to The New Inn and tries to heft the crate out of the trunk of his Honda Civic that he remembers that the Bookseller, whatever he is, is definitely not human. There’s no way Hob’s going to be able to carry the damn thing up the stairs as-is.

Also, he realizes later, as he recounts the experience to Matthew over beers in the back garden, the Bookseller had called him by his name. His real name.

*

“You found it in the family storage vault?” Glenn Davies says, staring in awe at the delicate sheafs of age-spotted papers and crumbling tomes arranged on the preservationist’s table at the Victoria and Albert museum three days later.

Like the portrait of Robyn, Hob desperately wanted to keep all of this for himself. But the truth is, he’s not set up for the kind of intense restoration and preservation that an absolute crate-full of fragile and ancient  documents both require, and deserve.  Even though it’s a bit strange to consider anything with his own handwriting on it 'ancient.' You’d think he’d be used to it by now.

The Bookseller did a splendid job of storing the documents–not a single bloom of mold or mouse nest has been found amid the papers–but that doesn’t mean Hob can (or should) do the same. Besides, what is he going to do with old recipe books written in old Signior Francatelli's hand, his old steward's ledgers, estate accounts, a bundle of frankly ribald love letters that passed between his kitchen maid and groom, and all manner of other little snips and slips of paper.

The only thinks Hob had kept back were Eleanor's diary, and Robyn's sketchbook. The lad had fancied himself a painter at one time in his late teens, more in love with the idea of the romanticism of art and the ability to get into a lady's salon than he had with the discipline of practice. His work was childish and flat, despite the drawing master that Hob had hired for his son, but the sketches were drawn by Robyn's own warm and noble fingers. Hob will not part with it.

Besides, it seemed the drawing master had a bit of a crush on his pupil—the back pages of the book were filled with depictions of Robyn's laughing eyes, his pouting mouth, his wild hair and long fingers. The man's been dead long enough that Hob isn't angry at him for his admiration. Rob was old enough to play at love and more than experienced in bedsport by the time the master had joined the household, and the man hadn't been too much older than his son. If they'd frittered away their time in bed instead of at the easel, then Hob can only be thankful for it.

It means Rob had a few lazy afternoons of happiness, and Hob now has page after page of drawings of his son's face.

He's already picked his favorite, plus one of Eleanor drawn as she scowled down at her lute while tuning it, and taken them to a specialists shop for framing behind archivist-quality glass.

“I’d been meaning to get down there to clean it out,” Hob lies to Glenn as they carefully prise up the lid of the crate for a small crew of a camerawoman, an assistant director, and a sound tech. “There wasn’t a good list of everything in it, you know. Dad chucked his old TV in there, took me and a buddy to dig through a few centuries worth of discarded furniture. But I remember grandpa talking about the old estate box, and voila.”

Glenn Davies pulls on a pair of white gloves again, because the camera didn't catch it the first time, and says "Voila indeed!"

Glenn is a man in his early forties, dark-haired and light eyed, expressively handsome in the manner of most of his Welsh countrymen. He’s got the most gawdawful furrow between his eyebrows though, from a lifetime of squinting at archeological sieves and down holes, and at tiny pieces of shattered pottery and old bone.

Hob dons his own gloves, and then carefully they begin to unpack and itemize the contents. A curator and a few assistants from the museum guide them in laying out the documents, setting aside the books, and carefully unfurling the scrolls.

Hob resists the urge to tug on his ear—don't want to get any makeup on the pristine fabric—every time he sees his own signature on something. Has he changed it enough from the one he signed his contract with the production house with? Too late to worry about that, now.

It takes hours to properly unload the crate, and to catalog everything in it, noting what condition and the contents of each piece of paper are. The museum staffers do most of the work while Glenn, Hob, and the curator point out interesting bits of information and human-interest moments that they come across on the pages. It'll be cut down to one ten-minute segment for the show, if that much, and Hob feels a bit disappointed that it can't all go in.

But the V&A will be keeping and digitizing the whole collection, so people can read the romance between Eliza the maid and Will the groom, or try to recreate Francatelli's delicious roast tongue, or remix Eleanor's favorite tunes on TikTok. 

Finally, there's just one lambskin roll of documents left. Hob lets Glenn do the honors, his shoulders aching from reaching awkwardly into the crate perched on the table all afternoon. Glenn withdraws it and lays it lovingly on the backlit table, plucking gently at the leather laces.

He peels back the fronting to reveal the press-printed title page.

He goes absolutely, eerily still as he reads.

Then:

“Is this a folio of Cardenio?” Glenn screeches.

He jumps back as if the missing Shakespeare masterpiece is about to jump up from the table to dance a jig. The camerawoman lurches forward to capture the look of slowly-morphing glee on the curator's face.

“Probably,” Hob sighs, pulling off his gloves to scrub at his face. “Gods can sometimes be so petty.”

The assistant director makes him repeat himself three times, just because the line is great, and the first take was ruined by the sound of a bird cawing uproariously from a tree outside.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[necromancers-incorporated]

Magnus Protocol Thoughts So Far (by episode)

EPISODE ONE: FIRST SHIFT

1. Alice and Teddy obviously quite close

2. Reference to app — Colin outright angry at someone

3. Alice created them???

4. Alice spoken about Sam a lot

5. WHATS WITH THE FOOD LENA

6. Lena on about importance of organisation

7. Never getting out of here Colin?

8. Gwen vs Lena go go go

9. Alice accusing Gwen of nepotism

10. Pub name is Steward

11. DID THE WORK STATION TURN ON BY ITSELF LIKE THE TAPE RECORDERS

12. Response one to one? Hm? Old response department??

13. Colin what do you know about Freddy!?

14. Norris = Martin's voice – strangely human

15. Figure in cemetery = stranger and/or flesh?

16. Email from H? Who is H? Suspicious.

17. Gwen likes her job? Hates it?

18. Enemies to lovers Gwen and Alice go go go

19. Gwen vs Lena again go go go

20. Get her ass Gwen go get that job girlboss

21. What does climbing the ladder entail Lena? Hm?

22. Camera zooming noises!!!

23. Colin does not sound pleased about the app

24. Colin and Alice clearly close

25. Colin speaks German and is vegetarian funsies

26. AWFUL TERRIBLE THINGS LAND PEOPLE THERE WHAT WAS GWEN'S HELP

27. RED CANARY RED CANARY GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT

28. Mag Institute in Manchester?

29. PICTURES DONT WORK AND PARANOIA

30. Burnt down 20 years ago hmmmm

31. ASYLUM OR PRISON HM?

32. Brutal pipe murder stains?

33. Camera not working? Distorted?

34. Got doxed hm interesting interesting

35. Yes. Yes they should. Keep canaries above ground please.

36. EYES

37. Aw Gwen checking on Sam

38. Chester = Jon's voice saying GET THE FUCK OUT

39. What do you know about the institute Sam?

40. Hah! Gwendolyn

41. Hmmm Alice talking about having victims...

42. Colin talking to the fucking computers who are you trying to find

43. GWEN BOUCHARD FUCKING *BOUCHARD

**EPISODE TWO: MAKING ADJUSTMENTS

1. Gwen why do you know all this shit

2. Hm how long have you been there Gwen?

3. Obsession with perfectionism

4. What the fuck do you mean Lena is firing people!?

5. Why isn't Gwen respected? Hm? Nepotism reference again?

6. Alice's brother in a band?? Dredgerman?

7. Sam why are you so curious hm!?

8. DO NOT FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT DO NOT

9. Ink5soul definitely going to come back, love them for that

**EPISODE THREE: PUTTING DOWN ROOTS

1. A dot jmj error? Hm? Colin thinks it's sentient?

2. Alice and Colin buddies love that

3. Colin doesn't like central IT hm I wonder why

4. Why is he so against giving the computer a personality?

5. Colin is so fucking Scottish istg

6. Dr. Samuel Webber has a grief counsellor

7. 13 Marigold Drive (Webber's address), 12 Castle Hill Avenue (Gerald Andrews), Madie Webber is deceased

8. More paranoia nice

9. Community watch you say?

10. Hmmm corruption vibes...

11. I feel like the garden might come back later like Ink5oul

12. ALICE STOP PREDICTING YOUR OWN DEATH PLEASE

**EPISODE FOUR: TAKING NOTES

1. Sam what are you looking into hm!?

2. MAGNUS AND PROTOCOL WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

3. Why were other people looking into it?

4. Alice what do you know about the Magnus Institute!? WHAT IS STARKWALL!? MASSACRE? PRIVATE MILITARY SHIT!? WHAT

5. Why is Gwen so against naming the voices too? She knows something I'm sure of it

6. Augustus hmmm who are you

7. Go old man go, go murder your teacher slay

8. STRANGE MUSIC YOU SAY HMM LIKE THE CALLIOPE

9. BEING PUPPETED ABOUT HM? WEB MUCH!

10. Evil violin man in the woods he will return again

11. The face of fortune? Is Fortune a new entity or something?

12. Player and instrument roles are blurred hmmmm

13. Hmmm murdering students HOW

14. Violin = ye old Grifter's Bone

15. Violin more like violence (aka mass murder)

16. Ooh yay more eye gore FUN

17. I wonder what the nephew did with the violin

18. WHAT OTHER STORIES HAS AUGUSTUS READ

19. Gwen and Alice's vibes I eat that shit up

20. LENA WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU KILL KLAUS!?

**EPISODE FIVE: PERSONAL SCREENING

1. What the fuck is wrong with you Colin (affectionate)

2. CAMERAS CAMERAS CAMERAS PARANOIA EYES EYES BEING WATCHED LENA IM WATCHING YOU

3. WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT KEEPING SECRETS LENA HM?

4. Sam what have we said about fucking around and finding out. Just gonna fill it out anyway ffs goddammit

5. Lonely you say? Interesting.

6. ONE MAN'S TRASH IS ANOTHER MAN'S TRERROR TMA EP 5 REFERENCE

7. Why are all the posts deleted?

8. Voyeur? Hm. Ha. Eyes.

9. 2009? The same year you started your horror blog?

10. Oh they just found your address did they? Not raising any suspicions?

11. HA ITS THE SAME CINEMA THAT YOU THOUGHT WAS CLOSED HOW NORMAL

12. Adding "getting babadooked" to my vocabulary now

13. My guy is just insulting the cinema alright pal

14. Oh haha unintelligible hmmm. No.

15. ITS WHATS ON THE INSIDE THAT MATTERS IS IT

16. SAME OLD GUY DOING EVERYTHING

17. Stop it with the fucking "unintelligible"

18. SOUNDS FAMILIAR DOES IT HM I WONDER WHY

19. YES YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT ROOM OF COURSE YOU DO

20. Fuck off who is there watching you. I'll put money on the fact that it's Lena or smth

21. Oh, definitely not him posting that last message

22. More Alice and Luke, giving some real Tim vibes now. Living jn FEAR

23. Gwen stop lurking and being secretive

24. You're right Alice, something is very wrong.

**EPISODE SIX: INTRODUCTIONS

1. Aww sleepy Sam

2. Why are you warning him against the coffee Alice?

3. WORKED THERE FOR ALMOST A DECADE ALICE? SERIOUSLY?

4. Ah yes. The true enemy is the sun. Of course.

5. Sam is a cat confirmed (mlem)

6. NEW HIRE NEW HIRE NEW HIRE

7. Haha eating people. Fun. Christmas party episode?

8. Gwen is not pleased by the new hire, who is shocked

9. I've decided that Gwen = Jon, Alice = Tim, Sam = Martin

10. Fuck me I hate needles so much they freak me out god (haha phobias being played on now)

11. Needles is such a funky little guy he is trying his best and is so calm and chilled

12. Creepy creepy creepy

13. HOLES AND NEEDLES STOP PLEASE

14. Oh you grew up there? Are we gonna get some lore?

15. Ah. You are the reason it is unsafe.

16. WHAT DO YOU MEAN MARKED? MARKED BY WHAT?

17. Definitely feeding on something. Hahahaha. Stop.

18. STOP WITH THE NEEDLES IN EYES I FEEL SICK

19. Poor Needles no fear for you to eat :(

20. Needles is going to fuck me up

21. "You're clearly not well" STOP

22. This man has fear maths

23. Ha. Cuddles. No.

24. I feel very unwell

25. "Maybe they'll kill again" ALICE PLEASE STOP

26. IS THAT SCARY ALICE? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?

27. Ha. Lena the big bird.

28. CELIA FROM THE CULT WITH MELANIE AND GEORGIE

29. WHAT'S WITH THE FUCKING FOOD LENA WHY MUST THEY BEEN EATEN ON SITE

30. Why do you know what's in the interviews Alice? Why do you know it changed?

31. Nightmares?

32. Gwen is so fucking mean I love her

33. "Four weirdos in a basement reading scary stories" my my isn't that familiar

34. Celia = Sasha

35. Hm yeah sure you won't get attached Alice

36. Food as a love language Sam

37. ALICE WHY DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN HIDDEN FOOD

38. Sam with a crush on Celia funsies

39. Tall Alice confirmed

**EPISODE SEVEN: GIVE AND TAKE

1. Celia why are you asking so many questions about the voices?

2. REFERENCING THE FUCKING FEARS ALREADY OKAY (defo tma Celia)

3. Big sister Alice

4. HILLTOP HILLTOP HILLTOP

5. WHAT HAPPENED AT HILLTOP

6. This one is reading a lot like the old statements

7. No name? Hm? A...stranger?

8. Another stranger? Interesting.

9. Weird fucking donations. OK.

10. Ha! Teeth.

11. Are these the kids from Dr. Elliott's class?

12. Haha. No keys. That's not disturbing at all.

13. All for a good cause? I think the fuck not.

14. MOULDY FOOD PLEASE NO

15. Okay. Stop. Freaking out with this claustrophobia.

16. Gunshots? Excuse me?

17. Very very much like the old statements. Celia, want to tell us something?

18. HILLTOP ON FIRE IS IT? OH. I WONDER WHY.

19. OH MY GOD WAS IT STARKWELL IS THIS THE STARKWELL GROUP

20. YOU RECOGNISE CHESTER'S VOICE!? FUCK OFF

21. NOBODY IMORTANT NOBODY FUCKING IMPORTANT

22. JON! WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JON, SAM!?

23. GWEN WHAT DO YOU HAVE!?

24. OH YOU ARE SHOWING ALL YOUR CARDS RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW BITCH

25. LENA WHAT THE FUCK

26. Okay so she killed him in self defence.

27. WHAT SOURCE GWEN!?

28. Ah. Of course. It's all for the job.

29. Oh, Gwen. Don't get involved. Please don't.

30. EXTERNAL LIASON? REAL WORK?

[shoggoth-the-bitch]

The Masquerade

I'm so ready for whatever this is gonna be! I've kinda missed creepy ass Nikola, I wanna hear from them again.

Oh, we're starting with Martin? Are we actually getting a- uh... Martin? This what you meant by getting to burn some things then...

"Sorry, Elias, I can't hear you. There's a door in the way." Oh my god! Martin, you are my favorite of all time.

Ah yes, Jon's fear of spiders coming up again. And the cursed wax works too.

Wait, there's just randomly a tape recorder? Why? Weird...

Oh, back to Martin then. "Turns out my suggestion is... fire." I love this man... Martin, I know you're playing into your plan but I can't help but believe a good chunk of what you're saying here... NO, you stay away from him!

This is so dangerous and yet I'm so much more worried about Martin.

Maybe they dug- uh... is that the calliope? Wait, are wax works people? That's not great... Oh, the Anglerfish was part of the Stranger then? OH, well I don't LOVE that.

Back to Martin... uh... hon, oh there's so much baggage here... Wait... yeah, he would have known about all of this! What the fuck Elias?! I mean Jon doesn't still treat him that badly, they'- uh... oh... of course, another terrible mother figure! Fantastic! Oh... well goddamn.

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!! This man needs to Die!!!!!!!!

Wait, what did they find? I agree with you Melanie but I don't actually know about killing him right now...

Tim, I agree with you but this isn't exactly something you can... uh... UH!

Did Daisy just shot Jon?! ... I can't believe this isn't even the first time I've asked that question.

[gabessquishytum]

We love to imagine Hob as the best boyfriend ever, and he is, but what if he gets carried away once he and Dream finally get together, and fucks up? Dream is absolutely in awe that Hob waited for him. He comes to realize that his friendship skills are pretty much non-existent, and he has been a shitty friend for the last six centuries. So, when Hob suddenly confesses his feelings (late friendly dinner something something, he got too emotional over the stars in Dream's eyes something something), Dream decides to do anything and everything to be the best partner ever. The problem is, his dating history sucks, his marriage fell apart, but he consoles himself with the thought that at least he's a good lay. That's when he comes to a second realization of millennia - he is not, in fact, a good lay at all. All of his affairs were very brief, he never spent a significant time with his partner, and even when he was married, he and Calliope were mostly minding their own business, each of them too passionate about their respective domains. Dream decides to solve the problem in the most Dream way - to go with the flow, the flow being Hob's desires in this case. And Hob, having lusted over his stranger for six hundred years, just can't get enough. They start with regular sex, but things progressively get more and more kinky - by Hob's initiative. And when he learns of Morpheus' omnipotence in the Dreaming - holy fuck, he's just bursting with ideas. Dream does his best to accommodate all of them, though deep inside, he reluctantly admits that he's not really into any heavy kinks. Actually, he's not into kinks at all and prefers a very standard vanilla sex, which, in his eyes, is unforgivable for someone who contains a collective unconscious with all its wet dreams and sexual fantasies. Hob is too enraptured by their blossoming romance, Dream's powers, and his own lust to notice that Dream gets more and more depressed as time goes by. Perhaps it lasts for months, and eventually, it's Desire who snaps after watching this horny shitshow from afar and gives Hob a shovel talk. They don't have the best relationships with Dream, alright, but this is too much even for them. Despair joins them because she's also done with Dream lingering in her realm - he has his own, can he just stay there, please? She'd rather hang out with her rats. Hob is petrified when he sees how much he fucked up. And it's not like HE is into heavy kinks himself - it's funny to experiment, yes, but he's experimented enough in his lifetime, and he'd be pretty happy with vanilla sex with Dream. He'd be happy with Dream even with no sex at all, he simply got carried away, and he also wanted to impress his stranger with all his skills. Who knew how wrong it would go...And who knows how to fix it all now? Lots of hurt/comfort potential!

Ah, I love these idiots so much. I am absolutely enraptured with the idea of Desire stepping in to do some kind of marriage counselling, by the way. They grab Dream by the scruff of his neck, plop him down in a chair next to Hob, and they refuse to let either of them go until feelings have been talked about and everything is okay again.

First of all Hob is tearing his hair out because HOLY SHIT he's a bad boyfriend!!! He didn't mean it of course, but he fucked up!!! Desire smacks him over the head again and tells him to stop feeling sorry for himself, though. He can't fix this with self deprecation.

Dream also gets a smack (albeit not as heavy handed) because if he doesn't start talking, Desire is going to do it for him! They will NOT allow Dream to be crushed and walked all over by another shitty partner but they will also not allow Dream to sabotage this all by himself.

So: Dream is coerced into making a list of the sexual things he actually wants to do with Hob in both the waking and the dreaming. Dream is so embarrassed and horrified because his list is like, 4 items long and he feels like a failure! But he's surprised because Hob seems so pleased. Now he knows what Dream actually likes, and apparently that makes him happy.

Desire is quite pleased by their little counselling venture. Maybe they'll take it up as a hobby. If Dream can finally get back to experiencing authentic desire, and Hob can finally get back to being world's best boyfriend, then they'll consider it a job well done.

And Dream does eventually become a very lay, by the way. Turns out he just needed practice, and the opportunity to just do the things that he likes. Which he absolutely deserves - as do we all!

[cult-of-the-eye]

MAG 87 let's goooo

I've heard of the uncanny valley before I think from a Tumblr post actually isn't it like non-humans that look like humans but slightly off that creep us out??

Sounds cool tho

GEORGIE!!!! JON!!!!

God I love her she actually tries to knock some sense into Jon

Jon's hesitation at accepting help is frustrating when he's just claimed that he's ready to accept that he needs allies but I guess it's understandable when he doesn't want to bring someone who doesn't have a place in this all into the situation

But also I guess he can't really help bringing her in, cause he's staying at her house, she's probably already in to a certain degree

This is already so long so I'm putting a read more

She knows that she's a last resort, she seems like a genuinely kind person, she's completely understood that the man is desperate but she's also willing to draw a line wow shes so cool

"you're a good person" augh god that must've been difficult for him to hear

"whatever this is, it's messing you up"

Georgie's right about everything all the time that's the conclusion I'm coming to from this

I like how she says you can choose to leave it alone, i think it might've been the first time it had crossed Jon's mind since it all started that maybe he had a choice in this, but the tragedy is that it's been said too late, if he did ever have choice, then it's definitely gone by now. And Jon is very much aware of that.

GERTRUDE????

Sebastian skinner THE NAME

Getrude seems very like practical about the way she does things, case number first, name, where it occurred and dates, like she doesn't do any of Jon's "head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London" stuff I guess cause he was doing it to sound important and she doesn't need that, she knows exactly what she's doing and what the situation is so she can just get straight to the point with it

I love analysing everyone's different little intro bit I think it's so cool how their personalities and beliefs form part of it

This statement actually like shook me, I don't know why but lately the statements have been sort of getting to me. I don't think they've gotten scarier though, I think my frame of mind has just changed recently

Just weirdo little valley with weirdo little people doing fucking blood rituals

It was very classic horror movie

I googled flensing on incognito mode cause I wasn't sure what would come up lol

Yeah that ending was horrifying I hate the idea of the only thing being left is the mannequin

That's so funny Gertrude was like fuck this guy's name in particular

So orsinov is like the avatar of the stranger

And they're skinning people for some sort of ritual called the Unknowing

Of course Gertrude is the kind of woman to use the word ilk in every day language

Wait fuck this was in 2015 and the current statements are set in what? 2016/7? The Unknowing has to be close then oh god

Oh god she got attacked??? By what???

Who the fuck is Jude perry

Do I know her???

Oh god poor Mr skinner

FUCK FUCK FUCK ITS CALLIOPE MUSIC FUCK OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

Oh god Georgie is really in it now if she can hear it

He sounds so scared jesus christ

I appreciate Georgie trying to get the stuff out of her house but girl I don't think that's gonna stop it from being there

Oh god he's trying so hard to keep it from Georgie but now he's realised that he actually can't

He has put her in danger and that's the fact of it

"I'm not sure I can."

AUGH

HE HAS NO CHOICE IN IT. HE KNOWS. HIS PATH HAS BEEN SOLIDIFIED. DNBSHSJSKWKSMSMKSSJJDJ

[dykes4timrand]

brooo i cant believe the not!them fucking got finch bro. the stranger fucking got his ass