#ch: johanna

[galedekarios]

hezenkoss: it's touching that you brought your new friends to do with you, volkarin. hezenkoss: i'll be sure to bury you and your new lover in the same tomb!

i got this line finally during the fight with hezenkoss on my emmrich romance pt. the fight usually ends too quickly to trigger all combat dialogue.

anyhow, this banter once again reminded me of the short story 'flame eternal'.

i'm not sure if the callback is intentional, if it is, it's a cruel one.

the short story references johanna and emmrich investigating a haunting that they later find out is caused by two lovers being separated in death. emmrich manages to soothe the spirit by reuniting them:

Emmrich closed his eyes. Whispers came, and when he spoke, the air vibrated. “By breath and shadow. By endless night. Tell us what haunts you.” The skull’s sockets flared green. “Divided. Cold. Two graves where there should be one!” “Twaddle.” “Johanna!” Emmrich cleared his throat and turned back to the skull. “Tell me: what will grant you rest?” “Take this one… to sunken black walls… by silver flames…” The skull’s glow flickered, faded. It resumed its earsplitting shrieks.

and

Emmrich leaned over a coffin ringed by bowls of silver fire. He placed the skull next to the body of an old woman, humbly dressed but crowned with white roses. The screaming stopped. “Mathilde…” “Your wife left gently, in her sleep, last midnight.” Emmrich smiled. “The records confirm she also wished to be interred together. You’ll not be parted again.” There was a sigh. Did the old woman’s mouth quirk, or was that the dancing flames? Johanna snorted. “All that fury, ending in another grave.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Emmrich ran a hand along the coffin’s snowy marble. “It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection. Besides, you did see this through.”

you can read the entire short story here, if you haven't yet, and i highly recommend it.

[northssketchbook]

Swordtember 2024 - 4. Divine Relic

[stromuprisahat]

“The great lords would have given us another two years of war,” the fool declares in his Testimony, “it was the women who made the peace. Black Aly, the Maiden of the Vale, the Three Widows, the Dragon Twins, ’twas them who brought the bloodshed to an end, and not with swords or poison, but with ravens, words, and kisses.”

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

[loveydoveypiperwright]

An excerpt from The Eternal Flame

This short story occurs in 9:22 Dragon, eight years before Origins, so Emmrich is younger than we recognize him. But this particular excerpt..... I'm thinking about how he's supposedly sensual and passionate... Assuming he's kept this frame of mind three decades later, he's going to be quite the grim romantic 👀

[devilsmenu]

@johanna-songbird-barker & Harriet continued from here because beta editor

"You won't, I think you're safe in this place, so you can live your own life, you deserve it" Harriet told the other with a nod of her head. "You're definitely not an asshole, you seem to be a nice and sweet girl" she state to Johanna. "I don't think it exists here but the kids with villain parents lived in a Isle while the preppy kids had a good and luxury life" she replied with a shrug. "Yeah, DC can be quite crazy when they want to" she answered. "I love my siblings, though they can be annoying sometimes, but I do love them. If they weren't around I wouldn't be happy here and enjoying as much as I want to".

[inmydrcams]

starter 🤍 @astormymind

Is it breaking in to pick the lock to one of your good old pals just so you don’t have to wait out in the rain? Even if they’re not really an old pal but more of a casual acquaintance who has come in handy once or twice for demon business? And who maybe doesn’t love your presence cause they think you always leave a mess everywhere you go and you still owe them for last time? Oh well, m a y b e . Still, she lights a cigarette and makes herself comfortable, sits down and waits looking out at the walls. Of course those are not that interesting so soon after Johanna is getting up from the chair to pace, some type of anxiety bubbling up inside but trying to keep it at bay. Never let them see your weaknesses. 

The cigarette is right about to end when she hears a noise at the door, an actual key opening it this time, and she puts up an itty bitty barrier spell. Don’t know why people keep acting like she's an idiot but she's not taking any chances. Still, there’s a carefree smile on her lips when finally coming face to face with the man known as Alex, who is also the demon known as Barbas. ❝ Long time no see. ❞

[queenscharacters]

"I'd like to visit home for my nieces birthday, would you come with me?" Johanna to Elias

Elias knew that if this question was posed just a couple of months ago, he would’ve annoyed. He wouldn’t understand why Johanna would be asking, since he constantly dragged her around his family, but also he probably wouldn’t have wanted to exactly come. He would’ve, because it was the right thing to do, but he knew himself. The man he was at the beginning of their relationship would’ve hated taking time off work, being around strangers, and would’ve inevitably upset his wife in their travels.

Today, though, he was so happy to have been asked. The idea of any time away from his wife seemed absolutely miserable to him, so he was glad it wasn’t an option. “I would absolutely love to come.” He told her sincerely, grinning at the idea of their upcoming trip. “I can probably see about taking an entire week off, if you’d like. Well, five days plus my weekend.” He amended with a chuckle.

They never had a honeymoon after getting married. Elias didn’t want to consider this trip one, because they both deserved to go somewhere new for the first time, but this would be their first trip abroad as husband and wife. The thought made him giddy. He wanted more of these moments. He’d drop everything tomorrow to see the world with Johanna.

“I want to see all around your hometown.” Elias continues, completely earnest. “And I know there’s going to be times where we can’t travel together, but I’d like to when we can. There’s no reason for me to go crazy - which I probably will - when I can be with you and finally meet everyone you speak so highly of.”

[lennoxpyre]

Numb. It was the easiest descriptor of how Lennox managed to even step foot within the Capitol, let alone watch year after year as more children were offered up to slaughter. He simply had to go numb. If he pretended it was actually a game and not a bloodbath, that the goal was to teach these kids how to protect themselves and survive through the end of the Hunger Games and some prize might come at the end, it wasn't so bad.

But it was a lie. And winning the games was hardly a real victory.

It was impossible to overhear the shouting coming from one of the nearby training rooms, and a moment later a young tribute - from seven, he thought - stormed out. The newest victor followed shortly there after, and Lennox could only raise a brow upwards the slightest bit as she settled in a huff.

He felt for her, he really did; after all, they'd all been through the same hell and more. It was some sort of unhappy kinship they seemed to find themselves in, the whole lot of them. Victors - the Capitol's play things - all one and the same.

"Not going as smoothly as you hoped?" He inquired, eyes briefly shifting in the direction the boy had run off in before returning to her.

❪   🍂   ❫    —   OPEN STARTER  ﹕ @pyrrhicstarters  ．

johanna mason hated the capitol — she hated the parties , the excess , the plasticity of it all . she hated the glorification of the games and the sheer lack of common sense most people seemed to have — she felt the effects of last year so clearly on her skin , she wondered how she could even stand half the time . but mentoring ? oh , she might just hate that more than anything else and that was saying something . she knew these people — she knew their families , where they lived , for fuck's sake she worked with baxter a year ago when she'd been a different person altogether and he'd been a scrawny fourteen year old annoying the shit out of everyone . now , she'd been stuck in a room urging him to pick up the fucking axe and do something because he definitely wasn't acting like he wanted to go home . she hadn't meant to yell , and she imagined he hadn't either , but they both had . that'd been how she ended up sitting outside the private training room , axe held firmly for no other reason than the familiar weight grounding her , urging some sense of calm to wash over her now that she'd yelled the boy all the way up to the elevator and grumbled her way back here . " fuck me . " the silence was welcoming , and so she let her head fall , her failure heavy on her shoulders and the urge to tear this place to shreds barely contained .

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 12

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Another chapter as promised. Prepare for Finnick to enter his trust issues era…

Content Warnings - people were tortured, someone canonically attempts to kill Katniss (Peeta *cough cough*)

You wake up on a hovercraft, unsure of what happened. Peeta, Johanna and Annie are also in the room, but only you are awake. Was Annie also in the capital? She must have been. You’re thankful she looks unharmed.

Peeta and Johanna did not seem to get the same treatment as you and Annie. Peeta is extremely malnourished and is covered in cuts and bruises. Looking at Johanna, you would have thought she was dead if it wasn’t for the slow rise and fall of her chest.

One of the soldiers notices you are awake and slowly approaches you. It’s not till he does that you notice they cuffed your hands and you’re chained to the wall.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the man states as he crouches down to your level. "My name is Boggs and I’m from District 13. We rescued you and the other tributes from the capital and are bringing you to 13. Do you have any questions?”

“Can you take these off?” you ask him, holding up your cuffs. He looks a bit surprised at your question.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he states. “Based on your file it states that you are to be restrained as you may be a danger to others, especially when waking up.” He seems to be reading this information from an electronic tablet he’s holding.

“I bet it also says I don’t talk,” you mutter.

“That would be correct…” he says, realizing that you are talking to him.

“Well I don’t need these anymore,” you state. “I’m not a danger to anyone. The capital fixed me. I’m completely harmless.”

“I’m afraid my orders state you must remain cuffed until you are cleared by the doctors in District 13,” he replies.

“And how long will that be?” you ask.

“We will be landing in an hour,” he responds.

An hour feels like eternity when you are waiting for your freedom. Boggs confirmed to you that Finnick is alive in District 13 and somewhat well. Apparently he’s been having a really hard time coping with your absence and is excited for your return. He really missed you.

District 13 is chaotic when you land. Annie is allowed to walk off of the hovercraft on her own but Johanna and Peeta are loaded up onto stretchers and whisked away to the hospital.

Even though you tell them that you can walk just fine, the doctors make you sit in a wheelchair so they can chain you to it while a soldier pushes you. Nobody here trusts you not to act out.

“Where’s Finnick?” you ask the soldier pushing your wheelchair.

“Not sure,” he grunts. “They won’t allow you visitors until they decide you aren’t a threat.”

You arrive at your room and they transfer your restraints to the metal bed.

“Oh I’m not the one you should be worried about,” you tell the man. “Peeta on the other hand…”

You’re cut short by the sound of someone yelling out for you.

“Finnick?” you yell back. “Finnick!”

The blond comes sliding into view when he’s held back by two District 13 soldiers. You want to cry at the sight of him. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days. His fingers are bloody from the rope in his hands and he looks like a lost puppy.

“Y/N!” he calls out. “Let me see her!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair,” one of the guards says. “She is not allowed visitors until she has been cleared by our doctors.”

“Oh god doctors?” Finnick asks. “She hates doctors. If anyone is going to set her off it’s a doctor. She killed two of them in the capital.”

The soldiers radio for backup, thinking you’re even more of a threat.

“Let me see him!” you yell. “I won’t hurt anyone. They fixed me.”

“I’m the only one who can calm her down,” Finnick explains. “If she gets out of hand I’ll sedate her. Give me some sedatives.”

The doctor outside my room agrees to Finnick’s plan and the soldiers finally let him in. He shoves the sedatives into his jumpsuit pocket before bursting into the room.

“Finnick!” you exclaim, holding your chained arms as far out as they can reach. You need to hold him, to make sure he’s real.

“Y/N,” he sobs, finally breaking down. “I’m so sorry. I missed you so much.”

“Come here,” you tell him, motioning for him to sit on the bed next to you. He hesitates before reaching out to gently touch your hand.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes now get over here,” you state, nearly yanking him on top of you.

He climbs into your small bed and you nuzzle up against him. The cuffs dig into your wrists but you don’t care.

“I’m so happy,” you hum.

Suddenly chaos erupts down the hall and a soldier bursts into your room, gun pointed at you.

“Mr. Odair,” he states. “Step away from Miss Y/L/N.”

“No,” you state, holding Finnick closer to you. “He stays.”

“Something is wrong,” the soldier tells Finnick, ignoring you. “Mr. Melark just tried to kill Katniss.”

Finnick tenses up at this news before slowly climbing out of your bed and backing away from you.

“That’s because the capital trained him to do that,” you try to explain. “They didn’t do that to me. I’m not going to kill anyone.”

“There will be no visitors to any of the rescued victors until they are individually deemed safe,” the soldier states. “Mr. Odair you are wanted in command.”

Finnick gives you a worried look as he leaves, wondering if you might turn on him at any moment.

Taglist:

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[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Catching Fire, Ch. 24-25)

katniss being angry that peeta hasn't come to help her before she realises he literally can't

peeta putting his hand up against the wall and her putting hers up to meet him. these two are so angsty romance-coded

"i just stare at his face, doing my best to hang onto my sanity"

peeta holding and rocking katniss on his lap, lifting her chin so she looks at him. husband. he loves her so much.

(as an aside, johanna and finnick basically being katniss's and peeta's older siblings is so adorable. what a cute fun brokem damaged little family)

when katniss finds out that finnick loves a "poor, mad girl back home", i can't not think of the parallels being set up between annie/finnick and peeta/katniss in the next book

ah the beach scene

"everything. that's what peeta wants me to take from him"

"i realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if peeta dies. me"

"i do. i need you"

i'm dead at this point. how can people say katniss didn't love peeta. i got the evidence right here!

So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind. 

the idea of peeta trying to talk despite katniss kissing him and then just giving up is too much

the warmth that grows inside of her exclusively due to peeta

the line about a new kind of hunger. bars

she's so down bad for him, and i think she truly realises here, even if she doesn't let herself think about it too much.

finnick waking up and realising the way they're wrapped around eachother and being like... "um get a room? if you want?" is hilarious too

i truly wonder how far they would've gone if they hadn't been interrupted by the lightning bolt. judging by katniss saying there's nothing to stop them this time but them, i think she might've not stopped at all. and the wrapping around each other. i know they were about to cut away in the capitol feeds.

peeta again being husband and making katniss lie down and leading her to bed. "i let him lead me over to where the others are." the "i let him." this books is just a masterpiece in showing the change in their dynamics.

lol at katniss being like "fuck no" at the suggestion of having kids with gale. "for one thing, that's never been part of my plan." like how much clearer has she got to make it. contrasting this to when peeta dropped the baby bomb and she was like: it could be true by now if it wasn't for the games, right? she's so shameless

i honestly feel like crying every time katniss says she thinks of peeta's child safe in the meadows. the fact that it's just peeta's child makes me think that the unnamed, unidentified unspoken of mother, is her. like that's who she's picturing in this fantasy, in this dream.

"when i wake, i have a brief delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with peeta" and she clings to it as long as she can

just something so beautiful that all this talk of love and family and peace and the future is linked with peeta and thus her own happiness. like my heart aches for her.

she can't look at peeta the next morning after their kissing the night before. i think a big part of it was because she just allowed herself to think all these thoughts involving peeta and then came back down to earth very quickly and realised that this wasn't possible for her because of the QQ

the pearl, their inside joke because of effie! the fact they remembered, the fact that they laugh together like this even with everything going on

katniss determining that peeta is her biggest enemy because their desires are the complete opposite when it comes to survival. "i promise myself i will defeat his plan." and even despite them both realising they're at odds, despite peeta not being able to look at her after, they sit together hand in hand.

the pearl and everything it comes to symbolise with these two kills me.

[galedekarios]

Emmrich leaned over a coffin ringed by bowls of silver fire. He placed the skull next to the body of an old woman, humbly dressed but crowned with white roses. The screaming stopped. “Mathilde…” “Your wife left gently, in her sleep, last midnight.” Emmrich smiled. “The records confirm she also wished to be interred together. You’ll not be parted again.” There was a sigh. Did the old woman’s mouth quirk, or was that the dancing flames? Johanna snorted. “All that fury, ending in another grave.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Emmrich ran a hand along the coffin’s snowy marble. “It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection."

—Flame Eternal, Sylvia Feketekuty

[stromuprisahat]

Across Westeros, the winds of war were blowing up the narrow sea as well. The murder of Sharako Lohar of Lys, the admiral who had presided over the Triarchy’s disaster in the Gullet, proved to be the spark that engulfed the Three Daughters in flames, fanning the smoldering rivalries of Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr into open war. It is now commonly accepted that Sharako’s death was a personal matter; the arrogant admiral was slain by one of his rivals for the favor of a courtesan known as the Black Swan. At the time, however, his death was seen as a political killing, and the Myrish were suspected. When Lys and Myr went to war, Tyrosh seized the opportunity to assert its dominion over the Stepstones.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

[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.

[devilsmenu]

♫ + 26 (harriet and johanna)

Spotify wrapped meme

26. Perfect World by E-girls

"And a new day begans again" Harriet told the other with a sigh. "Why mondays are so boring?" she said putting her hand on her mouth letting a yawn and scratching her eyes.

[jainydoe]

Misdirection, Ch. 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 the sugar daddy au I promised...

This is not a love story. 

That’s not how he looks at it, anyway. 

Because he is, at his core, a hopeless romantic. Devout in his worship. Ever since he could twirl a flower and tuck it behind someone’s ear, he’s kneeled, their bodies his altar, every act of service his own type of prayer. In his youth, he couldn’t go days without it. After his classes, then in between classes, then sometimes, under the table, one hand writing notes, the other up a girl’s skirt, he’d whisper covenants in their ears, verses upon verses of the old poets and the new on how their beauty would snuff him out right there. It’s why he’s got his sights set on the Bureau - boots on the ground, hands in the dirt, paid to bring justice for souls ripped before their time. There’s nothing more terrifying than death - and in that, there’s nothing as seductive.

Then he gets to college and meets Johanna. The ultimate love story. Boy meets girl. Girl convinces boy the best solution to their raging hormones is a casual sexuationship where he can rail her and make her cum as much as he wants and he’ll let her cheat off their orgo and anatomy exams as payment. Boy is stupid enough to fall in love with girl and she’s bored enough by the rest of the riffraff to actually marry him. 

In a shock to all, girl runs off and leaves boy with a baby, a soft little thing with grabby fingers and a gummy smile. He ignores the fact he has her eyes. Tells himself it doesn’t make him love him any less. As if branded and bruised, he can’t bring himself back to church. Not for a while. Not until the sting wears off. He tries meeting men at bars, women at libraries. He smiles and kisses hands and hopes they can see in his demeanor that he’s a man of faith. But maybe they aren’t believers. Maybe they find him dumb and naive. He’s flailing. Begging. Deranged. The spare times once or twice a year, eventually, that he’s pitied enough to be dragged to some hotel room, the Single Dad, the Divorcee, he’s gone for hours, babbling praise and praying on high that he hopes this will work, that this will make them stay, his devotion, his care. Everyone wants passion until it’s from Emmrich, it seems. 

When he turns forty six, it marks a full year since the last time he’s had someone, and maybe it’s the time to reflect, but it’s allowed his allegiance to rot into hate. He’s a prude, now. A stiff. He’s always looked down on his colleagues who, in their happy marriages with their happy wives and happy lives, live in secret disgust, wasting away their bodies and wallets on themselves. Agnostics. Romantic on the holidays. Phonies. 

It takes years to beat the love out of him. He’s celibate. He’s focused on fatherhood. He’s hardwired into work, the tsunami inside washing itself over the lives that intersect his area of expertise. He’s promoted. Then promoted, again. He’s at the top of his game. He’s the shit. He’s working 36 hours a week with the Bureau, and teaching at Nevarra U., and his students adore him, and the faculty worship him, and he tells himself this kind of love is enough. He’s Mr. FBI, Mr. PTA, Dr. Genius, and nothing and no one will have him on his knees ever again. 

Then he runs into Archibald at the annual faculty gala. 

SUBJECT: CLICK NOW for HOT Singles in YOUR AREA! XXX

Archibald Battenberg, PhD, JSD <abattenberg@nu.edu>

to evolkarin

Hey old pal,

Glad to have run into you. Mimi thought you were quite the charmer - just like old times, right? If you’re interested in other girls like her (or even her for that matter I’m all for liberation and whatever) I’ve included the link below. I’m sure you’ll pick a winner from the litter. Let’s get drinks, yeah? Celebrate the divorce? On me.

- Archie https://msdirection.com/ The code is SUGAR4BABY

Archibald was a fuck-wit and a menace. Had been since college. But Emmrich was notorious for skipping things ever since Manfred - really, ever since Johanna - and he wasn’t gonna go to the gala, seriously, but then he had a glass, then another, then Myrna called his private landline and there he was, cocktail in hand, counting the minutes until his alarm would indicate it’s time to vaporize into the night. As he’s nursing his manhattan and ignoring eye contact with the dean, he spots a woman, satin and sleek, a pampered panther in a sea of slippery sea beasts. She’s not a believer, he can tell, but the way she’s looking at him - she sees him for what he is and slinks his way before he could protest. They shake hands and she speaks eight languages and compliments his watch. Says she likes men who appreciate the real deal. He laughed in that breathless way he does when he’s shocked and on edge, watching her blunt hair frame her jaw in a way that made her attention all the more cutting and examining. Like a surgeon assessing their canvas. When he learned she was on the arm of Sloppy Archie-berg, he was a bit stunned. With Archibald’s signature ham-fisted tie, hoggish way of holding himself - Emmrich was pretty sure he didn’t even own conditioner. It was only once his date excused herself, though, that he’d revealed her secret. That Miss Mimi was a creature of the night. A call-girl , he called her, and Emmrich could tell Archie felt naughty even saying it. Like a child admitting they’d eaten sugar before bed. When Mimi returns and kisses Archibald’s cheek, Emmrich aches. Not for her, but for God. For the light of eternal delight to shine on his lips once again. He used to consider Johanna’s mouth the kingdom of heaven, and wonders, for the first time, if he’s been a misled fool. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he ever found Archibald charming, but when Save-the-Dates went out for the big Volkarin-Hezenkoss wedding, he was the only one to respond with condolences. Emmrich decides to email back a yes to drinks and notably forgets all about Mimi and her company until the postcard from Antiva arrives in his mailbox. 

Dear E,

Fuck you. I miss you. I’m moving back to the area. Say hi to the little guy for me.

Rot in hell,

J

There’s a verse he thinks of, about how the armor of God will protect you from the devil’s wiles, and maybe, he considers, God’s armor could be purchased through a subscription to Ms. Direction’s. It has to be. Because, for once, here are women who want it. Who want him. A man willing to tithe. This is for the Real Deal, he thinks. Not pussy-footing, quick-fuck, cheap-date juveniles. He’s dizzy as he locks the study door, Manfred in bed, all the lights out, and stares at his laptop as if it will begin whispering a beckoning call. Emmrich, come quick, come now, come enter your credit card information. 

He does. 

In a manner almost chaste and sweet, the website is basic. Bare-bones. He appreciates it. The way the black background and red font make it clear you’re here for sex. It’s been years since he’s let his eyes roam over others, and, for a quick moment, he thinks it’s a bad idea. Shallow biographies. Stupid usernames. Feet? Maybe he’s too old. Maybe he’s too tired. He’s on page four, wind wiped out, he doesn’t investigate why he thought Ms. Direction would have a slew of Nice Girls waiting, hands outstretched. If that hand were holding a crop, however. He crosses his legs and continues perusing the digital classifieds, willing himself to focus. Eventually, that leads to work-brain. He reminds himself these women aren’t in danger. They’re not minors. This isn’t illegal. His eyes gloss over in boredom. 

MARIANNE, 19 Looking for a stud to treat me like a princess.

JULIA, 29 Just a naughty girl who needs to be punished. 

RAVEN, 25 Let me treat you like filth-

He actually does click on her profile. But as he looks through her photos, sees her bedroom, the clothing on the floor and vat of lube - he wishes her well and leaves with a feeling of murky disgust. 

It’s as he’s exiting her profile, deciding to exit the site altogether and possibly consider asking for a refund that he spots her. 

Her. 

It’s straightforward. A photo of her face. She calls herself Rook. Doesn’t explain why. She needs money for rent and is hoping to spend time with someone interesting. He can be interesting. If he tries. In that moment, he’s twenty again, looking purposefully at a girl’s mouth, then in her eyes, asking if she believes in the afterlife. Of hauntings. Of spirits and the occult and drawing little symbols on her palm that, according to legend, will connect her more deeply with the beyond. 

He types a message. 

Dear Rook,

You seem pretty interesting, yourself. I’m, certainly, interested in learning more. Would coffee be of interest?

For fuck’s sake, stop using the word interesting. You’re a doctor. Be eloquent. Fuck.

Dear Rook,

Coffee?

Too chaste. This is a stranger. 

Rook,

No. 

Darling Rook,

God.

Dear Rook,

I’m interested. Wanna get coffee?

Emmrich

He clicks send and feels the air rush out of chest as if sucked up by some phantasmal vacuum. He shuts off the laptop, tosses it on his desk and quickly paces up the stairs to his bedroom, working a knot into his robe. This is about as daring as he’s been since signing up for the gym membership, and we all know how that went. 

The next morning passes quickly. Daycare then a morning class on elementary forensics then a quick lap on the track at the academy. He’s catching his breath, gulping down an icy reprieve when an email comes in. 

SUBJECT: Re: Message to rookie24

His phone slips out of his hand, falling face down onto the grass. A student looks his way. He waves a hello, beginning to itch all over. His fingers shake as he opens the message.

Hi handsome,

Coffee sounds good. I’ll be at Crossroads by Fade Ave at noon this Saturday. Hope to see you there.

Rook x

He knows that means a kiss. He feels it, too. Standing there, sweaty and pulsing, he feels his heart rate quicken even more at the promise of something over the weekend. A date. A cheap miracle.

–

“You have got to be KIDDING ME,” she yells, ignoring the passerbyers and scared parents, beginning to grip their children tighter. She’s not one for making a scene, especially on the train, but this is the final straw. 

Her medical bill is thousands. For an IV and aspirin and sitting in a cot. Look, hindsight, twenty-twenty, blah blah blah, point is she thought maybe fighting people for money could be a good way to get the bills paid. Taash said so, themself. And Lucanis and Davrin taught her how to properly throw a shank into someone’s side. And she wasn’t even that hurt, ultimately, but she did black out after Rowdy Regina Rockhouse (stupid name) got her in the back of Bellara’s Suburu and icing herself in the ER until 3am. She’s made a list on her fridge of sure-fire ways to get money without signing up for a third job or selling body parts. But after crossing out Underground Fight Club , she writes in gently, small, at the bottom ask Neve about selling body parts. Thankfully, she has lunch with Bell before giving Neve a call. 

“I’m, like, poor. For a while, I thought I was poor, now I realize I wasn’t. This is it. And shut the fuck up, I know you’re gonna say some shit about rock bottom, going up and whatever, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Bellara is sympathetic in a way that’s not suffocating. Rook loves her for it. Trusts her for the life she’s lived that should’ve made her jaded, but didn’t. Maybe it’s that trust that has her not totally dismissing Bellara and calling her immediately crazy for her suggestion. 

“You could always join a dating site.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She twirls a stick of honey in her tea, looking at the patrons surrounding them. “Check out that couple. That guy just bought her a pastry and latte. They look so happy. Maybe, oh, I don’t know, maybe meeting someone nice could help distract from all the ugliness?”

“You want me to whore myself for pastries.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m gonna have to beg Mauricio to not evict me for the third month in a row and you think pastries and dick will fix that.”

“I’m not trying to minimize your issues, Rook, I mean, I can help with your bills for a little, or you could come stay with me, maybe, you know I don’t mind,”

“I don’t want you like that, Bel. You have a great ass, don’t get me wrong,”

“Rook,”

“But if I’m gonna be giving out the sugar, I’m gonna need some considerable sugar to make up for it. Oodles of sugar. Like, piles.”

“I don’t know how to talk with you when you’re like this.”

“You’re a genius, Bel.” She kisses her on the forehead and steals her apple turnover, taking a chomping bite as she makes her way to the exit. “Sugar for sugar, Belly baby.”

It takes about a half hour of careful research before she finds the perfect site. It even looks sexy. Catered towards brats and babies to be worshipped. She snorts. She’ll bite. She’ll fashion herself the nymphette of some old guy’s fantasy if it means paying off a credit card, or two. Hell, she’s fucked uglier men for less benefits. She tells herself this will be a cake walk. 

She tries taking photos. Lacy edits of her with big eyes and red lips, but the thought of attracting anyone with it makes her nauseous. She figures her face will do. They’ll be looking at it a lot, probably, may as well see it for all it’s worth. She chooses one where she’s smiling and not still bruised from Raging Re-bitch-a-zilla Rockfart and calls it a day. No one will message her. She’ll forget she made the account. She will show up on Lucanis’ doorstep and promise him her firstborn in exchange for a roof over her head and possible bodyguard duties, because Mauricio will threaten her life in a week. It’s two in the morning and she’s almost finished with the final episode of Love is Kind when she gets a message. He doesn’t have a profile photo. He’s messaging potential cash-sluts past midnight. All signs say Do Not Interact. Which is why she brings it to Neve. 

“Jesus, Rook, is it really that bad?”

She squints at her, knocking back a shot of bourbon and ignoring the way her throat widens up into a retch. “Was the direness of my situation not clear when I joined Taash’s fucking fight club? Or did that nude modeling bullshit? Or that outward-bound type camping gig where I slugged tents and crap for Lace?”

“It was very sweet of you to help those kids.”

“Yeah, well, now I need help.” She twirls the bottom of her glass against Neve’s desk. It’s ten in the morning but Neve doesn’t mind. She never does. Rook doesn’t know if it makes her feel better or worse. “Besides, some of those kids might be my competition now for cradle-robber-cock.”

“I don’t think your new friend will want you to call him, or it , that. Besides, he seems to like your profile. I say just go for it.” Rook shifts in her seat. “What’s stopping you?”

Nothing. Everything. This would be another person to disappoint. Another crutch. Another life she ruins. Neve is a mind-reader. “Stop being melodramatic, Rook.” She takes her hand, offering her quintessential, moody smile. “Whoever this Emmrich is, I’m sure he’s a big boy who can handle the likes of you.”

She messages him back. 

–

Saturday arrives and a pile of clothes sits on Emmrich’s bed, vests and trousers splayed as he stands in the mirror, posing. 

I look like hot, wet shit. 

He grabs at his hair, pulling, eyes closed and breath slowing. This is fine. He’s fine. It’s just coffee. Something he drinks often. 

This is meant to be pleasurable. 

He holds that to his chest as he begins the ritual of preparing to leave the house. Lotions. Colognes. Hair gel and face creams. Would she like the way he smells? Does she hate facial hair? Or neckties? Or kids? 

Saturday arrives and a pile of clothes sits on Rook’s floor. Is this the kind of guy who would want her in a dress? Should she wear black? Or something bright? Is this an interview? Should she shave? She calls Bellara and Davrin, hoping for a balanced review. They can’t agree on an outfit. She feels like hot, wet shit. Then comes the text from Lace. I’m stranded in the middle of Arlathan but Bell’s at work and I know you live close to the lab so I was wondering if maybe you’d possibly rescue me? Also Bellara’s agreed and Taash is here, too.

Rook is used to playing the hero. It’s the role she’s been cast in for years. But in this moment, she hates Lace Harding. She hopes her and Taash get stampeded. Or that they drown. These images provide comfort as she begins the trek to Bellara’s 2011 chariot. She’s never been a romantic. But for once, she feels truly hopeless.

[queenscharacters]

"I would love to go on a walk with you..." Johanna to Elias

Romance didn’t come naturally to Elias. As much as he idealized it, as much as he wanted it more than anything…he was naturally awkward with these sort of things. He knew he was severely failing at being a married man, but part of his problem was that he didn’t know how to be someone his wife would actually want and be proud of.

He was incredibly insecure when it came to his relationship with Johanna. Of course, the distance between them was entirely his fault, but how was he supposed to mend that? He was trying to approach things delicately, but he found himself growing impatiently with the minimal interaction they had. He wanted more. Therefore, the idea of walks came into his head.

He was certainly anticipating rejection, so the fact that wasn’t the case? Elias sprang to his feet. “Theres a bit of a chill, let me grab you a jacket…” He mused before he thought of anything else. Instead of running upstairs, he just went to the back of his door where he kept his most commonly used outerwear. Later on, he would fixate on how the hooks only held his garments.

He offered his hand when she was within reaching distance again. To his delight, she took it. “I think there’s a nice path along the neighborhood, but it’s my first time exploring myself.” He admitted, chuckling. “I’m glad I can share this with you, at least.”