#hob ch.16

[avelera]

Avelera's Dreamling Fic Status Update:

Keeping Sanctuary (subscribe for updates here) - Giving Sanctuary Sequel follows Dream and Hob from the events of the altered meeting in 1689 up to the modern era. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1689 meeting?) Current word count: ~7,000 words across several chapters. Realistic progress update: 1/10 complete total, Ch. 1 is about 1/5 complete.

(The rest are below the cut!)

Come live with me and be my love - Dream and Hob fall in love during the Regency Era when Dream loses a bet to Desire. Shenanigans ensue. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1789 meeting?) Ch. 16 is at 2,500 words, probably about 1/3 done. Current plan is to wrap up Part 1 in the next few chapters then create a part 2 which finishes out their "1 year of marriage" on a month by month basis instead of following them day to day like Part 1 done. Probably won't be a separate fic though, just a change of format.

This Rough Magic - My take on "Hob rescues Dream from Burgess" with a twist that Hob ends up on Burgess's radar himself when he picked up some occult magic skills in the hopes of contacting Dream after 1889 and apologizing. Now he has to pretend to be friends with Burgess in order to get them both out of there, because Burgess thinks Hob can help force Dream to give him immortality. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1889 meeting?) Ch. 9 is about 800 words in. Story is still very much in progress I just have a lot of WIPs, as you can see.

Joke's On You (I'm Into That) - The 1589 meeting goes very different when Hob proposes to Dream, who is so offended that he just can't let the matter go. A very angry, very horny competition kicks off between them. (Aka, what if they hooked up in 1589 when they were both at their absolute worst as people?) I have literally 40,000 words written for the rest of this fic. The problem is, there's big gaps in that first draft I have to fill in and scenes that need to be added. This might be my favorite WIP but it's also the hardest to write with all the smut scenes so it'll arrive whenever I can manage, I'm afraid.

Banana Daiquiris Ch. 2 - Comic-canon compliant (mostly) - Dream fakes his death to go on a vacation with Hob and Destruction. They end up in Tahiti. Destruction plays matchmaker. Hob doesn't know whether to thank Destruction or strangle him. Current word count 6,000 words. I've been playing around with adding on to this fic for ages. One of these days, I'll pull it all together.

Great Triumphs and Tragedies - aka, "Dream Accidentally Cursed Hob with a Normal Life" Fic - Dream learns that from 1689 on, Hob's life has been safe. Too safe. Improbably safe. Nothing bad or extraordinary or even terribly special has happened to him since Dream began to consider Hob his friend. He knows this because during his imprisonment, Hob's life became exciting again and suddenly went back to normal the day Dream was freed. Hob is not convinced that Dream is the reason for this, Dream disagrees. They talk about it. And fight about it. And some things that they've probably needed to talk about for a long time finally get said. (aka, sometimes the author just needs to write their weird headcanon into a 20,000 word fic that's almost entirely dialogue). Current word count: 19,000 words and about 80-90% finished, 3 of 4 chapters written. I'm hoping that posting what I've got will help push me through the final stretch. Real life interrupted for a bit though.

Unraveling Centuries, aka the Hob Amesia Fic - Dream and Hob are dating officially now in the 21st century when Hob gets hit with what seems to be a memory loss curse, shaving off 100 years of his life each day until Dream finds a cure. This effectively grants Dream a walk down memory lane as he is reacquainted with the Hob of each era and, in the process, learns how much longer Hob cared for him than Dream ever realized. Current word count: 40,000 words. Currently writing 1489 (1889-1589 are done) and re-writing the opening. First chapter is posted!

And for fics that haven't been posted anywhere yet (you can subscribe on my Ao3 author page for alerts about them):

"Fairy God Marlowe" - 1589 fixit fic where Hob and Kit Marlowe strike up a conversation while Dream and Shaxberd are talking. Hob and Marlowe talk about plays, and faith, and salvation, and queer love, and what it means to live forever. Hob gets a second chance at a first impression. Current word count: ~5,000 words. Sadly, it's all dialogue in script format. I'd need to convert it into prose to publish which would be a slog. So it's a bit shelved until I find the energy to do so. No, I will not post it in script format, I'm allergic to the thought.

I've got a few other concepts kicking around, but these are the ones that actually have (*does a quick calculation*) over 100,000 words written that I haven't had the chance to post yet?? And it's driving me insane????

Anyway, I should probably pin this post for those curious lol. Feel free to ask me any follow-up questions, I love talking about WIPs even as they ruin my life!

[pellaaearien]

Another Word for Ache | Dream/Hob | 108k | Mature | COMPLETE | Ch. 16: It Will Come Back (12K)

Hunger as a Metaphor for Love, Dream of the Endless Needs a Hug, Hob Gadling wants to give him one, Non-sexual Intimacy, Inappropriate Use of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs), Episode Codas, Dream of the Endless Frees Nada, Surrealism, Matthew Swears a Lot, Dream POV, Slow Burn, Not Actually Unrequited Love (They’re Just Idiots), or: it’s okay to have dreams about your platonic best friend so long as he never finds out about them

Don't let me in with with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

[Read on AO3]

Thanks to @moorishflower for beta-ing the first draft of this chapter, and to @mandolinearts for the gorgeous banner!

[justafandomfollower]

Fics I've Read Today:

Commenting on and reccing fics is important, so here's my attempt at doing that more often. Still on the Dead Boy Detectives kick, so that's mostly what you're getting.

Dead Boy Detectives:

the first rule of fight club by @e-vasong; Long, post-canon oneshot of Charles and Edwin getting thrown into an arena and told to fight each other. Absolutely stunningly written and an immediate favorite fic in the fandom. [T, No Archive Warnings Apply]

dandelion wine (life and death in summertime) by world_wanderer; An everybody-lives AU taken literally, wherein 16 year old Charles Rowland meets 89 year old Edwin Payne. Very charmingly soft first chapter with a wonderful look at a very different first meeting. [T, Creator Chose not to Use Archive Warnings]

The Lost Boys Detective Agency by Just_Here_For_Fun13; The first chapter of a not-ghosts/alive-boys AU with a really intriguing premise that promises to be delightful - and also probably very traumatic for the boys! [M, Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Updated fic (ch. 6): what some circumstance stole by @catalists (Chrome); A post-canon crossover with the Sandman, wherein Hob and Edwin are kidnapped by the same mage. I've been subscribed to this author for a while and following the fic since it started, but I just managed to get to Chapter 6 today. We're nearing the conclusion and it continues to be stunningly written and engaging! [T, Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Stranger Things:

Updated fic (ch. 27): you carved the space for my sadness to be seen for once (hold on to me) by @oh-stars; A long-fic, teen-dad!Steve AU that starts post season 1, though I was just catching up on the latest update today. This story is fantastically written and so realistic (within the scope of Stranger Things and the Upside Down, of course), with a wonderful focus on character relationships. [M, No Archive Warnings Apply]

[teejaystumbles]

Flatter the Mountain Tops ch 15 is up on AO3!

Flatter the mountain tops - Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling - Dragon AU - Mature - WIP (15/16)

Alternate Universe - Dragons, Shapeshifting Dragons, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together,  lingering identity trauma, BAMF Hob Gadling, BAMF Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, they’re both pretty bamf because they’re dragons, Angst and Feels, Childhood Trauma, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Depression, Flirting

Chapter 15 - Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth

Hob stares at him and back at the tunnels, outraged. Dream is in there, possibly lost. There is really only one way forward. "I'm going in. I'm going to find him and bring him out," he says, voice steady, mind made up. Destiny raises his head and blows out a puff of steam.  "Careful, golden one. You may not find what you are looking for." Hob grits his teeth and steps towards the tunnel. "You're not scaring me with your riddles. I know my truth, and it is that I love him. I will find my mate and I will bring him home."

In Destiny's cave, fears and truths are revealed.

This is the penultimate chapter and more or less the grand finale! I am so so proud of it and I hope you enjoy it! Featuring amazing art sponsored by the wonderful @amielot ! <3

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Ooh, how about 16 and 17 for Risk and Reward?

(For the Behind the Scenes Fic Ask game)

16. What was the easiest scene to write?

That would probably be one of the earlier chapters, before the plot got more intricate than just “get to know each other” (and yes, I will name a chapter rather than a scene, because like 95% of the time those are synonymous 😅 a chapter which contains more than one distinct scene is a rarity in my writing). Perhaps chapter 4 (In which a toast is made) could be a strong contender; that one mostly establishes some backstory which I had already plotted out beforehand, and it helps that it is almost entirely dialogue between Morpheus and Hob, because I love to get swept away in the flow of conversation as I write ❤️

17. What was the hardest scene to write?

Hmm… Likely chapter 31 (In which we receive an anonymous letter). Without getting too spoilery for anyone who hasn’t read it, I’ll say that that chapter was a challenge as there was a lot of plot which had to happen all at once, and a lot of feelings and choices which had to feel like they made sense for the characters even if some of them were irrational. Tricky stuff. But the chapter I think I’ve returned to the most and made a million tiny changes to is probably ch. 23 (In which we visit a grove by a lake) — not because it was necessarily hard to get right, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about it since it was so deliciously dramatic and I kept thinking of ways to make it even more dramatic! 🤩

[sseanettles]

nothing grows in corpses (in the earth of me)

dream x hob gadling | mature | Finally cross-posting my take on the fandom classic of the show progresses as the comics do, even to The Wake. Until Death resurrects Morpheus and forces the choice of "redemption" upon him instead of suicide. It goes...horribly. No good. Very bad. Instead of learning the lesson, Morpheus (in his infinite wisdom) opts instead for a highly effective existence strike until one day Hob Gadling stumbles upon his ghastly handiwork and immediately decides that this just won't do. Man Who Refuses To Die vs. Man Who Refuses To Live: fight.

Dead Dove, Do Not Eat for the following: graphic depictions of starvation, illness, suicidal ideation, self-harm, blood and gore, loss of autonomy, etc. etc. This is some classic old world whump, folks! But I promise it's also supremely healing in the end.

CH. 16: your father my friend | 3.1 k | AO3 link | prev part | next part

(or: the one where we are honest about how a fishbowl rescue fic would go. Hob finding Burgess also means that Burgess finds Hob.)

It was an agony indescribable to mortal tongues. It crushed with a force beyond metric, tore apart at the molecular level, stole heat and cold and air and all matter and sensations of the world until its pain was all there was—the agony of its destruction and its solitude. This was the heart of the black hole, and here, finally, Morpheus had returned. Perhaps he had never left it at all. Perhaps all that had followed since his mother cast him here had been nothing more than a cruel madness, an escape forged by his own withering mind as he tore apart forever, as he disassembled until even his very essence hardly remained before being crammed back together again, cycling endlessly until, another eon later perhaps, his mother would grow too lonely and take him out to play once more. Perhaps his dreams of withering away to nothing, of Death’s cruel boon to him, were just ways to process the agony he suffered here: his failures, his surrenders nothing more than extensions of this imprisonment. Yes. Perhaps that was it. The child of Time and Night driven mad—

Something collided with him. Something collided with him in the void where nothing was but him, and it seared him with the light and heat of its forge-heart, with its blood that sang with a pulse that beat stalwartly on despite the way it now shredded apart. Hands grabbed him, arms, a body enveloping, consuming, two dissolving beings mingled into one, and—

Hob Gadling struck the damp, dark stairs of Fawney Rig back first, and tumbled down them to land in a bruising crash against the wrought iron gate.

For a time, he did not move. He only laid there, crumpled against frigid metal and magic-deadened stones that quietly seeped away his warmth, and tried to remember how to be. Funny…he’d never had to remember how to exist before. Wasn’t sure he liked it much. When he finally blinked, it was painful across his dried-out eyes, and when his feather-light breaths deepened, they did so in a quaking gasp as if his body had just remembered that it did, in fact, enjoy having enough air, cheers. His skin covered his muscles and tendons and bones, right where it was meant to be. His insides were inside; his outsides were outside. His eyes were intact and whole in his skull that held its brain safely within its confines. His spine, bruised and aching, ran solidly up the core of his being, and his fingers, all ten of them, bent the right way round as he carefully felt the ground beneath him.

Yup. He existed.

He made a note to send a letter to UKSA. They’d probably be interested in knowing what it felt like to go through a black hole, right? In a word: hellish.

He pulled himself to his feet by the bars of the gate, grimacing and grunting under his breath as he went, and took a breather against the wall as his head swam. A faint touch of his fingers to his ears showed that though the rest of him had knit back together they still bled.

“Stranger?” he softly called.

Nothing called back.

The basement was quiet and still, like a tomb, and Hob steeled himself as he opened the heavy gate on hinges that had been oiled to the point of silence.

The prison of glass and iron hung from heavy chains before him, suspended within the confines of its moat and sigil, just as it had been when he’d glimpsed it on that first night so long ago now. At the bottom, sprawled in the same kind of dazed lifelessness Hob had only just emerged from himself, lied Morpheus. He was completely bare, his skin pulled taut over muscle and steel-cord tendons that had Hob staring longer than he would have cared to admit. He looked as if he should be silken to the touch, cool and firm like those gel packs Gwen stuck in the freezer, like moonlight and starshine rendered solid. His hair was a shock of black, of inky, feather-soft bedhead that even now stuck in every direction as if weightless. His eyes were gently closed, set in hollows that were not as deep as they would yet become.

His chest did not move.

He was about to charge forward in a panic at that realization when the body shifted, and he stopped midway across the room, his heart in his throat. Those star-blue eyes opened with both careful measure and the fluid sharpness of practiced routine—as if Morpheus knew even now someone was there to watch him, to spy and collect any information on him that they could from his every little choice, and so he betrayed as little as possible. He existed within a fishbowl: contained and studied all at once like some subhuman creature. Like a professor’s pet. His limbs moved, spider-like, disturbing with their sharp angles and slow precision, and Hob watched in unsettled, horrified mesmerism as a being he could only name Dream settled himself within the cramped enclosure, shifting from twisted collapse into a straight-backed seat with all the grace of a king. His hands came to rest in his exposed lap, and his gaze slowly lowered to the runes that confined him in continuing study.

All the while, he never once breathed.

Above them, around them, Fawney Rig lied in wait, silent.

Regal; of course, the bastard would somehow manage to look regal, even now, Hob marveled but noted that the man gave no indication that he’d recognized him beyond the glass, let alone seen him. And after the distress of the prior two nightmares, after the tears and the sobs and the body-wringing panic…this seemed too calm a façade.

Hob raised a hand and waved.

Morpheus—Dream—did not move.

“Mate,” he called and jogged to the cage, clearing the water in an easy bound to land on the other side.

And as soon as he crossed that stagnant barrier, his boot touching down on painted stones, the switch threw. There came shouts from upstairs, resuming mid-word as if they had been calling to one another all along, and the scent of smoke wafted down the steps. Hob braced his landing on the glass with a soft thud, and Morpheus startled on the other side, rousing slightly from within himself and slipping from imperious dissociation to perplexed daze.

“Mate, hey,” Hob smiled, crooked and calm, and knocked on the glass only to stop as he quickly felt like an ill-mannered child at the aquarium. “Can you hear me?”

Morpheus blinked. And blinked again, screwing his eyes shut. His head tipped forward a touch with a grimace, as if to ward away a budding headache or shake off a wave of dizziness. “Stranger,” the shape in front of him was saying, the one with Gadling’s face and his voice and his hands pressed to the glass. “It’s alright.”

No. It was not. This…this was not right.  

“This is just a dream,” the man who played at being Hob Gadling said, and Morpheus shook his head, trying to clear it. He began to pull back within the glass, unsure, his brow still furrowed deep.

“Fuck,” Hob huffed as he watched his friend struggle to come to, to break from the trance of dreaming to awareness.

While the other nightmares had come off as more traumatic, had wrought far more terrible physical and emotional pain, this one was somehow striking deeper. It was insidious, sinking in its teeth and drawing Morpheus into his role within it so easily, guiding him to pull it on like an old skin. This nightmare was well-trod territory; he would not be breaking from it on his own, maybe not at all so long as they were still in this room. Good thing Hob was all too happy to provide an assist.

Jessamy, Morpheus remembered, pulling the name from his mind as it frayed toward lucidity, as memory separated from traumatic re-experiencing. Jessamy should be here.

“Alright,” Hob was saying, and Morpheus struggled to reconcile memory with what was now before him as he watched the human step closer to the glass and examine the seams. “Let’s get you out of this horrid thing—”

And Morpheus realized.

Jessamy should be here.

From the corner of his eye, Hob saw the fear shaft through his Stranger, saw the clarity hit his eyes and the warning rising to his lips as he surged forward, his pale, sharp-nailed hands reaching for him as—

A deafening bang echoed through the basement, engulfed by Hob Gadling’s guttural howl of pain as a shotgun blast shredded his back. Each killing fragment cut through to his lungs, to the insides of his ribs, and out the other side, and together they slammed him into the glass and to the floor in a spray of fatal red.

Drowning. He was drowning, choking, coughing up pieces of himself as his chest spasmed and his back arched for air that could not come. His heels ground weakly into the stone as his strength began to fail, trying alongside his gurgling moans to voice his desperate agony. His arms spasmed. His hands clawed but could not coordinate through the panic to do anything to help himself, to help the pain, the dread. He cried out as the blood welled and poured, desperate to clear his throat, only for more bitter crimson to take its place.

He burned—everything burned, he could not breathe, and he looked jerkily to the prison above him as red burbled from his lips to spill down his throat, into his hair, pooling atop the stones.

Beyond the smearing spray of blood, Morpheus stared down at him with his mouth slightly agape, and his eyes glittered with shocked, unshed tears as he processed what had occurred. His hands still pressed to the glass in remains of his ineffectual warning; his height kept stooped within his too-small cage. His gaze passed over Hob in quick, jagged shifts, searching for something, anything to change what he was seeing or perhaps something he could yet do to help, and came up empty.

And as Hob watched, he saw the last of the lucidity begin to pass from Morpheus’ eyes.

Stranger, he tried to call but only managed a pained gurgle, don’t hide…don’t go….

And all that remained was the Dream of Fawney Rig.

“Idiot!” an older man growled somewhere beyond Gadling’s sight as it bloomed with dark and light. “You could have shattered the glass!”

And as Hob continued to cough and heave through ground lungs, pulsing blood from arterial wounds that would not slow and twitching in pain all the while through the shock of it all, Morpheus watched Burgess’ eyes alight with curiosity. Dread—cold, heavy, sick—bloomed in his chest like ice. 

No.

“Fascinating.” The single, wanting word rumbled through the basement, and his footsteps echoed in kind as he tore the shotgun from Alex’s shaking hands and slowly approached the downed immortal. Morpheus watched him come, incandescent rage sparking in his eyes even as tears slipped silently down his cheeks and snot collected at his nose. Had he had air to breathe, his chest would have reflected his mounting fury, and his hands curled into fists against the glass.

Hob just focused on trying to breathe himself, even as Roderick Burgess loomed above him, long gun in hand, and stared at first in grotesque disgust at the state of him and then hungry marvel as his suspicions were confirmed.

“Come closer, boy,” he ordered, beckoning with a blind, imperious hand for Alex to approach. “Come and see.” Alex neared as if it was the last thing he wanted to do, his nervous gaze alternating between the man he had shot and the furious being who now glared from beyond the glass with a promise for all present: should I escape, none of you will leave alive. His father had no such concern, and he gestured to the felled man at their feet with the barrel of the shotgun, the prideful poacher atop his kill. “It yet lives.”

Morpheus’ teeth gritted to the point of pain, and he let Hob see the fury in every line of his body as the man gaped for air below him.

“A sibling of yours?” Burgess asked, as if the matter were academic, as if a man were not regrowing his lungs at his feet while coughing up the old with agonized cries on every hacking blow, shot fragments coming up with some of the worst and lacerating his throat as they went. “Another servant?”

Endless just glared, but there was a pain beneath those inhuman eyes, a shine of tears, the remains of which still tracked his face and tinged his nose. His lips were bitten red, his pupils dark and blown, and his fists finely trembled where they dug with such pointless force into the unrelenting glass. Burgess paused; that was the expression of devotion and not to blood or the subordinate. And his lip curled in disgust as he looked from the Endless to the undying man and finally to his son Alex for confirmation.

“Perhaps a mate,” he said, far harder, backhanded, and Alex flinched, “a perversion fitting for a servile sub-creature such as yourself.” 

He regarded his prisoner with an arched brow, expectant. Morpheus did not yield.

“Well?” he needled as the silence went on. “Does this creature mean something to you, Endless?”

As he always had, Morpheus said nothing. But whatever small victory he claimed from his silence began to wane as Burgess’ flash of scathing irritation morphed to dark ambition. He grew smug and aloof once more: the king of his manor, master of his lands. “I see,” he said and motioned for the guards to approach. “Well, if I cannot glean the secrets of immortality from you, then perhaps I can extract them from him. Take him to my laboratory.”

Alex blanched, and Hob let out a panicked wheeze, trying to push himself away along the stones as the men at the gate approached. Morpheus stepped closer to the glass, looking between everyone in a mounting franticness, powerless to stop it all and yet possessing the only thing that would. Burgess sneered at his fraying discipline, and he delivered to it the final tap—turning his back on the creature to ogle his latest pet as the guards took hold of Hob beneath his arms and hefted him between them.

“I think he’ll make for a most interesting vivisection.”

Hob screamed, his weak struggles redoubling, and there came a muffled bang—

“No!”

Burgess’ hand raised. The guards stopped, Hob hanging between them with rattling, groaning breaths that spilled as much blood as air, and the weary man weakly raised his head to watch with teary eyes as the Magus smiled in slow, triumphant victory. He motioned to the floor, and Hob cried out as he hit the stones and his buckshot-riddled ribs snapped altogether at the impact.

“It speaks!” Burgess crowed and turned slowly on his heel to face Morpheus, gesturing to Hob as he did. “Is this all it takes to break you, Dream Lord? Hm?”

Hob looked as far as he could to his Stranger; he stood there still, his fist pressed to the glass where he had struck it with all his might, the muscles in his face twitching as he bit back the words once more that he so desperately yearned to let loose. Silence was all he had; silence was all he could control, when and where he spoke and how. And now, Burgess was stripping from him even that small shred of self. The tears built once more, a hurricane held back by a brittle flood wall long untended; he lowered his eyes slowly to Hob, and his glare softened almost imperceptibly to one of grief and apology.

I am sorry. I cannot speak further.

Hob tried to muster a faint, reassuring smile through the bloodied pain and the tears and stopped as his Stranger’s grief only worsened at his efforts, only left him looking distinctly ill behind his uncaring façade. Hob could feel the blood congealing along his tongue, could feel it lining his gums and filling in the spaces between his crimson teeth like gory tar.

He could feel the way it bubbled and popped in his throat like gum, choking him on every struggling sip of air. It filled him with nothing but the taste and the smell of iron.

Of death.

“Nothing more to say?”

‘S okay. I understand.

“Very well, then,” Burgess said, and Morpheus flinched, his will nearly breaking, as the man raised the long gun once more to his shoulder. At the sight of that momentary weakness, Hob gritted his teeth and forced his throat to come to life.

“ ‘S just…dream.” Burgess chuckled at his piteous wheeze and regarded the man before him bemusedly as he considered his next aim. Hob ignored him, focusing only on his Stranger as the man struggled to hold to his aloof indifference. “Just…a dream…”

“Oh no, Stranger,” Burgess said, and there was something darker to his voice, something truer, that sent a chill down Hob’s damaged spine. He glanced at his torturer, Constantine’s warnings ringing in his head, and tried to dissociate as Burgess took aim at his knee. “This is no longer a dream.”

And in one fluid pull, the barrel switched to Hob’s head.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK—

“BURGESS!” Morpheus bellowed, slamming into the glass with both hands splayed, his knee striking it in turn as he lurched for the old man and got nowhere. Burgess paid him no mind, and Hob held his gleaming eyes all the while as his aim narrowed further to that spot mid-brow like an animal for the slaughter. “I will burn all you are and all you treasure—”

I’m perfectly safe, he had once winked.

“Friend,” Hob half-coughed, half-moaned, trying to break through Morpheus’ desperate, muffled shouts even as Burgess regarded the Endless with open mockery for his threats. He reached for the glass with a bloodied hand.

“You’ll do nothing,” Burgess sneered.

I’m perfectly safe.

“J-just look…at me—” Hob pleaded, his handprint smearing everywhere he touched, the blood loosening in his throat.

So live.

“—if you dare harm him any further,” Morpheus continued, flushed with his rage, his desperation, his terror, all of it the mighty display of an ultimately fangless beast. The trigger began to tighten, and Hob was still calling for him, drawing his blackening eyes with his undying voice, his bloodied hand reaching for him. He slammed the glass. “BURGESS—”

“It’s not…” Hob gasped, and Morpheus looked to him, eyes wide.

I’m perfectly safe.

The trigger passed the tipping point…

“…real—”

[grandmasterofwangxiancultivation]

HOB ch.15-16

I switched to the Google doc. translation and I'm screaming.

“Are you alright?” Xie Lian asked.

San Lang rested his chin on a fist and said, “No. I’m scared.”

“...” Xie Lian didn’t think he sounded scared at all, but still comforted him, “Don’t be scared. You’re right behind me, nothing will hurt you.”

The youth smiled, and didn’t say anything, and Xie Lian realized San Lang was actually staring at him. No, he was staring at the cursed collar around Xie Lian’s neck.

I HAVE QUESTIONS AND I NEED THIS NOVEL TO GIVE ME ANSWERS.

1.Who is this San Lang, is he Hua Cheng disguised as I think?

2.Are they flirting? If yes, I bet Xie Lian doesn't even know, god I love him

SL is too calm and knows too much, so I think I'm right, or maybe there's something else going on and I'm just too stupid to notice, but THEY ARE ACTUALLY FLIRTING WITHOUT XL KNOWING, which is hilarious. I love how SL smirks at him, gosh

EDIT: So, XL read his palm and I'm actually impressed by his poker face, I would have been too scared to try, knowing a probably-great-demon was keeping me company. Like, okay buddy, quit the act, what do you want? Are you Hua Cheng? I NEED TO KNOW OKAY?

“Don’t fortune tellers always talk about relationships and marriage?” San Lang asked.

(He is too freaking cunning, I swear)

Xie Lian cleared his throat and replied seriously, “Honestly, I’m actually not that great at fortune telling, so I don’t know how to predict your relationships. But thinking about it, I don’t think you have anything to worry.”

(... I think he is slowly digging his own grave? I'm enjoying this so much, OF ONLY I KNEW FOR SURE)

EDIT 2:

San Lang raised his brows, “Why do you say that?”

Xie Lang responded, “There must be many girls who crush on you.”

“And why do you think girls like me?” San Lang asked.

Xie Lian was about to answer before he realized that this kid was manipulating him into praising him. Helpless and amused, Xie Lian didn’t know what to say and rubbed his forehead, “San Lang…

OMG CUTE. FLUSTERED XL HELP

EDIT 3:

Xie Lian felt bad about his fortune telling, and seeing that the youth actually turned to leave, he called out, “Wait! Why don’t you come to my shrine if you don’t mind it?”

Why does it sound like he totally fe into a trap?

EDIT 4:

Hearing Xie Lian, San Lang turned full body around and said nothing, but walked up close to Xie Lian and leaned forward. Xie Lian didn’t understand what he was up to, only that the distance between the two shortened too fast and suddenly didn’t know what to do.

(djdhsnxjendjdkwhsks SORRY WHAT)

Then San Lang straightened back up, that giant bag of junk in his hand, and said, “Let’s go then.”

I AM SCREAMING.

I NEED ANSWERS.

EDIT 5:

Xie Lian approached and saw that he was looking at his sign requesting for donation, and cleared his throat, “As you see, that’s it really. That’s why I said you might not be comfortable here.”

“It’s not too bad,” San Lang said.

In the past it had always been Xie Lian who told others “It’s alright; not too bad.” Hearing it from someone else for the first time made him feel rather complicated. 

GOOD. GOOD. IT MAKES YOU FEEL G O O D. SAY IT.

EDIT 6: OKAY ASIDE FROM THE FACT THAT THEY ARE GOING TO SQUEEZE THEMSELVES IN THE SAME BED AND THAT'S ENOUGH TO MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I NEED MORE ANSWERS AS I KEEP SCREAMING AND SCREAMING, San Lang knows about him as a Crown Prince, and now they're a talking about XL.

Like, he seem to know about his past. Why.

Also, SL keeps staring at XL's cursed shackles and it feels like... he hates to see them? As in, he feels protective over XL and hates the Gods because they banished him twice? Or am I reading what I wanna read?

[javistg]

One Victor CH 16.

One Victor CH 16 is finally ready!

With Peeta back in Victors’ Village, Katniss settled into her routine once more. Every morning, she went to school and, in the afternoons, she escaped to the woods. Twice a week, Rory went along with her.

Winter had always been the hardest season for the hunters of District 12 --the frozen streams and cold temperatures drove most of the game away– but, between Gale’s snares and her bow, she still managed a few decent hauls.

As early night fell on Twelve, Katniss made her rounds to the Hob and the merchant quarter. Sometimes she had enough game leftover to trade with Peeta but, even when she didn’t, she went over to his house and helped with his greenhouse.

Want to keep on reading? You can find the rest of the chapter on AO3 and FF.net

[avelera]

Last point on the whole "If Hob has ADHD, he might also suffer from rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD) and if he does, here's a few moments in the show that might lend to that interpretation," headcanon I've been batting around but I did laugh at myself to realize that not once, but t w i c e in Giving Sanctuary that I thought were just me writing normal, if passionate, reactions to events by both Hob and Dream and only in retrospect realize are actually textbook cases of RSD.

The first one is in ch. 11 and it's actually Dream who has it. He and Hob are discussing Dream's past relationship with Calliope and how Orpheus was conceived and Hob trips over his words a bit. He accidentally implies that only an idiot would want to marry Dream, when really he was saying the opposite. But Dream, already in a sensitive place because they're about to visit his son's grave, leaps to the worst possible conclusion, which is rejection by the man he's starting to crush on hard, and flips the fuck out, stalking off and threatening to abandon Hob on that beach in a fit of, well, rejection-sensitive dysphoria.

I literally wrote it that his perceived rejection by Hob hits Dream so hard right in the chest that it feels like he's been stabbed. He's starting to fall in love and when discussing his past love life with the person he's in love with, he hears that he's totally unlovable on this topic he's very sensitive about. Dream's flip-out might be informed by my own experiences with RSD, but it is also informed by his reaction in 1889 to Hob suggesting Dream has changed and that he's lonely.

It's interesting to note, that in the 1889 beat of the canon episode, Dream views someone suggesting he's lonely as if it were rejection and reacts like someone with ADHD/RSD. Any attempt to help him at all is treated as a sign of his own failure and he reacts with incredibly powerful emotion. When Hob offers sympathy, Dream only hears weakness in canon.

(It should be noted that Hob also has a panic attack in the face of Dream's-rejection-based-on-Hob's-perceived-rejection which also matches RSD.)

The second time I accidentally depicted RSD is in ch. 16, after Hob awakens and thinks he's "disrespected" Dream in his sleep. In truth, the evidence of their love making is because they actually made love, but Hob doesn't know that or have any reason to understand that Dream was really there in Hob's actual dream of him.

Dream doesn't reject Hob here but he doesn't have to. Hob has the full "knife in the chest" moment of terror that he will be caught that he will be found out for having sexual thoughts about his friend and for being in love with him before he could bring up the possibility of a romantic relationship between them under more cautious, dignified terms.

Perceiving Dream's rejection as inevitable, because Hob is so disgusted at himself for what he believes is a loss of control in his sleep, Hob fully freaks out and very nearly has a panic attack. Dream, seeing only that their lovemaking ended with Hob's full unmitigated freakout, is also left with a sense of rejection but in this case he also thinks it's his fault and he took Hob's interest in his dreams as far too literal and may have possibly forced himself upon Hob in that light. So they both feel sick and awful about it pretty much until they reunite, another ADHD/RSD reaction.

Anyway! I am laughing at myself a bit for thinking I was writing anything remotely adjacent to neurotypical reaction. Some what I assume to be neurotypical readers even commented that their sense of rejection seemed disproportionate and I scoffed because uh, isn't that just what rejection or perceived rejection feels like?

Yeah. It does. If you have ADHD/RSD.

[peakybliinders22]

Kapitel 16

~Thomas POV

“du hast mir noch nie von ihr erzählt. Was du sagst, klingt es so als hättest du sie sehr geliebt,Tommy”,sagte GRace zu mir.

Ich setzte mich ans Bett zu ihr und sagte:”das ist nicht mehr wichtig.Das liegt nun in der Vergangenheit,GRace.”

Grace sah mich für einen Moment an und sagte:”Laden wir sie doch zum Abendessen ein”

Ich sah sie überrascht an und sie sagte:”Das wäre eine gute Gelegenheit, euch wiederzusehen und auszureden. Es wäre wie en Abscheid”

Ich sah sie an und sgate:”Das ist keien gute Idee”.

“Warum?So kannst du mir auch beweisen, das du nichts mehr für sie empfindest”,sagte GRace hoffnungsvoll.

Ich lächelte sie and und küsste sie und sagte:”Du brauchst keien BEweis dafür”

~Adeliade POV

Die Haushälterin überhäufte das Schlafzimmer mit hcohzeitskleidern. 

“Das würde ihnen auch gut g+stehehn,madam”,sagte sie wiederholt beim 5.hochzeitskleid. Sie hielt das Kleidvor mir hin im Spiegel. Ehrlich gesagt ,war es mir völlig egal,welches Kleid ihc trug. Ich würde es sowieso nicht geniessen.Seit der Einverstänidnserklärung,sprach Jonathan kaum mehr mit mir und ich sah ihn auch fast nie, da diese Hcohzeitsvorbereitungen mich beschäftigt hielten.

Mein Blick fiel zu BOden und die Haushälterin sagte:”madam. Ist alles in Ordnung,gefallen ihenen die Kleider nicht?”

Ich versuchte zu lächeln und bevor ich etwas sagen konnte hörte ich iene Männerstimme sagen:”Dieses Kleid ist am schönsten”

Ich drehte mich um und ich sah jack, wie er eines der hochzeitskleider hochhielt. “Sir, sie dürfen doch nicht vor der hcohzeit das keldi sehen”,sagte die Haushälterin hektisch zu ihm.

“Ich musste doch nach meiner BRaut sehen,wie es ihr geht”,sagte er und kam auf mich zu und küsste mich,doch ch unterbrach den Kuss und lächelte gezwungen.

Er sah mich einem Moment lang an und legte seinen Arm um mich. “Liebling, du hast doch gehört was sie sagte. Das bringt unglück”,sagte ich und lächelte die Haushälterin an.

Er sah uns überrascht an und shcmunzelte.Dann verließ er das Zimmer und sagte noch:”Halten sie nihct zu lange wach, frau Randall.Morgen ist das Verlobungsessen”

“randall?”,kam es aus mir heruas.

Frank Randall.Ich erstaarte als ich den Namen hörte.

“Ja, madam”,sagte die Haushälterin,als sie die Hochzeitskleider ansah.

Ich stotterte:”Kennen Sie dann zufällig FRank Randall?”

Sie drehte sich überrascht um und sagte:”Ja, er war mein Sohn, er starb leider”,sagte sie und wirkte traurig.

Frank Randall. Sie war die Mutter von ihm. Der Mann,den ich so oft erstochen habe,war ihr sohn.

“woher kennt ihr,meinen Sohn,milady?”,fragte sie mich als sie wieder ein Hochzeitskleid an mich hielt.

Ich lächelte falsch und sagte:”nur von ihm gehört. Ich hatte nie das Vergnügen.”

“Das Kleid ist perfekt”,sagte FRau Randall und hob das schönste Kleidvon allen hoch.

“Woher wusstest du von Frank Randall?”,rief ich aufgewühlt als ich in Jack’s Büro einstürmte.

Er sah mcih überrascht und sagte:”Was redest du da, mein Leibling?”

“Oh lass das Leibegetue. Ich will wissen woher du es weißt?”,rief ich wütend.

Er stand auf unds agte:”Du solltest nicht so mit mir reden, du wirst bald meien Ehe frau seinund ich dein Ehemann, Leibling”.

Er stand vor mir und sah mich ernst an. ICh sah ihn wütend an und  doch ich ballte meine Faust.

er seufzte und lehnte sich an seinen Tisch. Ich kam auf ihn zu und staarte ihn direkt in sieenAugen und sagte:”Wenn du willst, das wir eine Ehepaar dann sollten wir uns auch mit ehrlichkeit begegnen”

Plötzlich fiel mir frank ein und wir immer sagte, das wir uns mir ehrlichkeit begegnen sollen.

Ich began wieder schwer zu atmen und plötzlich fühlte ich JAcks HAnd an meiner Wange. Aprupt sprna gich zurück und er seufzte. 

“Ehrlichkeit mit Ehrlichkeit sagst du? Sobald du dich mir öffnest und meine verdammte Ehefrau bist, und nicht nur auf Papier sondern auch in deinem Kopf, werde ich dir alle deine FRagen beantworten”,sagte er ernst.

Ich sah ihn einen Moment an und dann verließ ich sein Zimmer.

ER verwirrte mich. CIh wusste nicht was er von mir wollte.Wollte er wikrlcih nur das ich ihn leieb wie eine Ehefrau oder hatte er etwas anderes im Gedanken?

~Nachster Tag am Abend

Es waren viele Menshcen im Haus, verschiedene Clanmitglieder,aus England sowohl aus anderen Ländern. Bisher wusste ich nicht das unsere HEirat so ein großes Thema war, doch anscheinend, waren das alles nicht freunde die hier zum verlobungsessen da waren, es waren Clans aus anderen Ländern die nur das GEschäft im Kopf hatten. Außerdem war die Familie von Jack auch hier.

Als erstes seine Mutter:izabella Hemlock

“Die Namen eurer Kinder stehen schon fest,also gibt es darüber nicht mehr zu  besprechen. Könne sie kochen? Eien FRau muss kochenkönnen!” 

und sein 4 jahre älterer Bruder, Klaus Hemlock

“Es ist mir ein Vergnügen”,sagte er und nahm meine Hand.

Ich sah ihn überrascht an als plötzlich Jack Klaus Hand von meiner entfernte und meine Hand festhielt. Er lachte und sagte:” Ich wusste nicht,das du auch kommst,Bruder”.

ICh merkte wie sich der Griff an meiner Hand festigte.

Klaus schmunzelte und sagte:”Es war schön dich kennenzulernen, Adelaide”.

So ging er wieder unter die Menge. ICh sah ihm hinterher, JAcks GRiff wurde stärker.Als ich dann sagte:Au,JAck.Du tust mir weh”.

Von seinen GEdanken gerissen ließ er los und sagte:”Halt dich fern von ihm,Adelaide”.

ICh sah ihn verwirrt an und fragte:”Warum?”

Jack sah mich ernst an und sagte:”Das wa rkiene Bitte,das war ein Befehl”, und ging seinem BRuder hinterher.

ER muss nicht gleich immer so böse antworten. EIn wenig interessierte mich schon, Jack’s Famillie.Ah was denke ich da! Ich heirate ihn doch nur aus dem GRund weil Jonathan sonst in GEfahr wäre.

Was wohl Jonathan gerade tut?

das Verlobungsessen war vorüber und die Gäste vrabscheideten sich.

“Wir sehen uns auf der Hochzeit,Adelaide. Bruder”,sagte Klaus zu uns und verließ mit Izabella unser Haus,als die letzten Gäste.

Ichs eufzte laut. ICh war enorm müde. “Ich bin müde. Gute Nacht”,sagte ihc und war gerade dabei in mein Zimmer zu gehen als JAck mich plötzlich gegen die Wand drückte.

“Was hast du mit Klaus geredet?”,rief er wütend

Ich sah ihn erschrocken an und sagte:Nichts besonderes”

“ICh ahbe dich etwas gefragt!”,rief er wütend.

ICh sah ihn verwiirt an und sagte:”Er fragte mich nahc meinen Namen und wie lange wir uns schon kennen, und dann fragte er mich ob ich geschwister habe und das wars schon”.

Er sah mich an und dann liss ermich loss und setzte sich auf die Stiegen und sagte:”Ich verstehe”

ER verheimlichte mir eindeutig etwas. Ich wollte ihn gerade fragen,was er verheimlicht,als er plötzlich sagte:”du kannst schlafen gehen”

IChh ballte meine Faust und nahm ihn beim KRagen und sagte:” Wenn du willst das das hier funktioniert, dann gib mir in zukunft nie wieder einen Befehl. Udn außerdem will ich keine Geheimnisse vor einander. Verstanden?”

ER sah mich überrascht an und bevor er etwas sagen konnte sagte ich:”gute nacht”.

So ging ich in mein Zimmer und plötzlich stürmte er in mein Zimmer hinerin,und ich stand nur im Nachthemd vor ihm.

“Du hast mir nichts zu sagen”,rief er wütend.

“Was redest du da!IC hbin deine Ehefrau verdammt nochmal”,rief ich wütend.

“Und genau deswegen,gehorchst du nur mir und nicht andersherum”,rief er.

Ich lachte sarkastsich und rief zornig:”Was ist das für eine verfickte ehe dann? Bin ich etwa dann nur da um dein bett zu wärmen, du mistkerl”

“Wie hast du mich genannt”,schrie er.

Ich rief:”Einene scheiss Mistkerl!”

ER kam auf mich zu und hielt mich bei meinen armen fest und rief:”sag das nochmal”

“Was ?willst du mich etwa schlagen,und so mein GEhrochen für dich erlangen, du mistkerl lassmich sofort los”,rief ich.

Plötzlich küsste er mich, und ich ohrfeigte ihn. “Du “,sagte ich zornig.

“FRank sagte er hätte dich gebrochen,doch das sieht nicht so aus als hatte er das. oder du warts gebrohcen und irgendwas oder irgendwer hat dich wieder zusammengeflickt.”,sagte er plötzlich.

“Was?”,fragte ich verwirrt.

ER entfernte sich von mir und sagte:”Geh dich ausruhen, morgen ist ein großer Tag”.

Ich sah ihnnoch immer verwirrt hinterher wie er mein Zimmer verließ. Was meinte er damit? War er etwa mitbeteilt bei der Etnführung?Was für eine Bezeihung hatte er zu Frank?

~Thomas POV

Plötzlich stürmte GRace in mein Büro und rief vor FReude:”Wir wurden zu ihrer Hcohzeit eingeladen, THomas.”

“..Wir laden Sie herzlich zur Hochzeit von Adelaide Godfrey und Jack Hemlock ein...”

Ich konnte es nicht glauben,was da stand. Ich brauchte eineen Moment um es zu realisieren. Grace riss mich aus meinen GEdanken und sagte:”Ist das nicht toll?”

ICh sah zu ihr und lächelte gefälscht und sagte:”Ja sehr.”

[nokzeit]

"Fridays for Future“ erreicht das Bauland

_(Foto: Ch. Kowatschitsch)_ ## Demo und Kundgebung im Adelsheimer Stadtgarten **Adelsheim.** _(bd)_ Im strömenden Regen nahmen fast 150 Menschen am heute an der ersten „Fridays for Future“- Demonstration in Adelsheim teil. Damit hat die internationale Bewegung drei Tage vor dem Weltklimagipfel in Madrid auch das Bauland erreicht. Die überwiegende Zahl der Demonstranten waren Schüler des Eckenberg-Gymnasiums und der Martin von-Adelsheim-Schule, die gemeinsam in den Stadtgarten gelaufen waren, wo die Kundgebung gegen 10:30 Uhr begann. Vier externe Redner waren der Einladung gefolgt, und sprachen zu den Demonstranten. Der 16-jährige Philipp Hensinger, beim Klimabündnis Neckar-Odenwald und bei den Jusos aktiv, kritisierte Regierungsverantwortliche aller Parteien massiv. Insbesondere das Klimapaket der Bundesregierung bezeichnete er als völlig unzureichend und forderte eine massive Förderung regenerativer Energien. Klaus Brauch-Dylla vom Kreisvorstand der Grünen dankte den jungen Menschen und hob hervor, dass es der Greta Thunberg ausgelösten Bewegung m zu verdanken sei, dass Politiker den Erkenntnissen der Wissenschaft zum menschengemachten Klimawandel nun Bekenntnisse folgen lassen. So wurde im Europäischen Parlament der Klimanotstand ausgerufen. Er forderte die Jugendlichen auf, nicht müde zu werden und weiter einzufordern, dass den Worten auch die notwendigen Taten für Arten- und Klimaschutz folgen. Bürgermeister Wolfram Bernhardt begrüßte hocherfreut das Engagement der Jugendlichen, die eine notwendige gesellschaftliche Betrachtung vorantreiben würden. Er stellte die Wachstumslogik und ihre vermeintlichen Sachzwänge insgesamt sowie den Wert materiellen Besitzes zur kritischen Diskussion. Sein Plädoyer lautete sinnstiftende Arbeit und menschliches Miteinander höher zu schätzen als Konsumgüter und Geld, dahin sollte die junge Generation die Weichen stellen. Pfarrer Kurt Wolf brachte eine Botschaft vom Himmel mit, die Anklage von Astronaut Alexander Geerst über den rücksichtslosen Umgang der Mächtigen mit der Erde, wie beispielsweise auch bei der Regenwaldabholzung zu sehen. Er legte Wert darauf, dass nicht einzelne Bevölkerungsgruppen wie die Landwirte Schuldzuweisungen ausgesetzt sein dürften. Die notwendigen Veränderungen müssten von allen Bürgerinnen und Bürgern geleistet und Schäden ausgeglichen werden. Wie von den zufriedenen Initiatoren, Mitglieder der SMV des Eckenberg-Gymnasiums, geplant waren um 12 Uhr wieder alle Schüler im Unterricht zurück. Lesen Sie den ganzen Artikel

[nariaprime]

Civil War Ch. 16 - Schwindende Hoffnung

Hi! ^^

Viel Spaß bei Kapitel 16!

Kapitel 16 - Schwindende Hoffnung Standfire wachte auf. Tatsächlich war es ihr gelungen, in ihrer misslichen Lage und unter all diesem ganzen Stress etwas Schlaf zu finden. Aber wahrscheinlich hatte sie nicht länger als ein paar Stunden geschlafen. Als sie sich dann nach einer Weile umsah, erblickte sie neben sich Zodiac, der regungslos von seinen Fesseln hinabhing und nur durch ein leichtes Flackern seiner Optics verriet, dass er noch am Leben war. Der junge Mech tat Standfire Leid. Es schmerzte sie so sehr, ihren eigenen Sohn in solch einem Zustand sehen zu müssen und sie brannte innerlich vor Wut, als sie Megatrons Gesicht sah, das in ihren Gedanken aufblitzte. Der Decepticon war am vorigen Tag wieder zu ihnen gekommen und wollte wissen, wer der fremde Mech war, der neulich auf die Nemsis gebracht worden war. Standfire hatte gelogen und gesagt, sie kenne ihn nicht. Andererseits hatte es auch gestimmt. Als er vor ein paar Wochen auf das Schiff gebracht wurde, hatte sie ihn wirklich am Anfang nicht erkannt, aber umso mehr hätte sie vor Freude jubeln können, als der Mech sich ihr offenbarte. Am liebsten wäre die Femme ihm sofort in die Arme gesprungen, aber sie wusste, dass das der falsche Augenblick gewesen wäre und sie dadurch nur ihren eigenen Mate verraten hätte. Optimus war am Leben und nur das zählte. Er würde sicherlich einen Weg finden, sie und ihren Sohn zu retten und dann konnte nur alles besser werden. Dann gab es aber wieder die Tage, an denen ihre Hoffnung schwand. Es war nun schon so lange her, seitdem Standfire und später auch Zodiac auf die Nemesis gebracht worden waren. Megatron versuchte immer wieder, Informationen aus den beiden herauszuquetschen und scheute sich keinesfalls davor, auch Folter anzuwenden. Das war es, was dieses Monster Zodiac am vorigen Tag angetan hatte. Megatron beharrte darauf, dass Standfire den fremden Mech kannte, auch wenn sie log, um diesen zu schützen. Der Decepticon war daraufhin wieder ausgerastet und hatte sie und Zodiac bewusstlos geschlagen. Der junge Mech schien darunter sehr gelitten zu haben, denn seitdem war er vollkommen entkräftet und brachte nur noch die nötigsten Wörter heraus. Seine Mutter befürchtete immer wieder, dass er jede Minute eins mit dem Allspark würde, aber Zodiac schien sehr stark. Offenbar wollte er ebenso wie sie aus dieser Hölle verschwinden und wieder zu seiner Familie zurückkehren. Das hydraulische Zischen der Tür riss Standfire aus ihren Gedanken. Ein paar Wachen und dahinter auch Megatron traten in den Raum, während sich hinter ihnen die Tür wieder schloss. Die fünf blieben etwas weiter vor den beiden Gefangenen stehen; nur Megatron trat ein paar Schritte nach vorne, bis er Standfire direkt gegenüber stand. ,,Du weißt, wieso ich hier bin?'', fragte er mit einer neutralen Miene, die fast schon gelangweilt wirkte. Offenbar hatte er diese Gespräche allmählich satt, denn egal wie viel Folter er in der letzten Zeit angewendet hatte, Standfire und Zodiac verrieten ihm kein Wort. ,,Ich kenne ihn nicht!'', entgegnete sein Gegenüber, deren Stimme heiser klang. Die Prügel, die sie am vorigen Tag für ihr Schweigen kassiert hatte, setzte ihr immer noch sehr zu. Aber sie ignorierte ihre Schwäche und die Schmerzen und starrte den Decepticon vor sich wütend an. ,,Wie oft willst du uns das eigentlich noch fragen, Hohlprozessor?'', höhnte sie dann, woraufhin Megatron das Gesicht verzog und ihr einen kräftigen Schlag an die Flanke erteilte. Die Femme nahm all ihre Beherrschung zusammen, um vor Schmerzen nicht aufzuschreien, stattdessen ballte sie ihre Hände zu Fäusten und fletschte verbissen die Zähne. In Gedanken sendete sie ein kleines Stoßgebet zum Allspark aus, dass Optimus bald kommen und sie und Zodiac retten sollte. ,,Ich frage euch das solange, bis ihr es mir endlich verratet, und glaubt mir, ich habe viel Zeit'', gab Megatron mit einem Knurren von sich. ,,Ich werde euch solange quälen, bis ihr endlich nachgebt!'' Der Blick des Decepticon-Anführers wanderte zur Seite, bis er an Zodiac haften blieb. Dann verformte sich seine wütende Miene in ein verschlagenes Grinsen. ,,Was hält er wohl davon, dass du so stur bleibst, he?'', sagte er, während er zu dem jungen Mech hinüberlief. ,,Wach auf, kleiner Zodiac. Wach auf und sag mir, wie du es findest, dass du so gequält wirst, nur weil deine ach so tolle Mutter mir nicht verrät, wer dieser Unruhestifter ist. Deinen Schmerzen könnten wir ein Ende bereiten. Wir könnten dich von unseren Medics behandeln lassen. Du musst nur sagen, wer dieser Mech ist.'' Megatron nahm Zodiacs Kinn und drückte es leicht hoch, um ihm in die schwach leuchtenden Optics sehen zu können. ,,Und glaub ja nicht, ich würde es dir abnehmen, wenn du mir erzählst, dass ihr ihn nicht kennt. Ich habe euer Gespräch gehört, nachdem ihr beiden wieder in diesen Raum gebracht wurdet.'' ,,Lass Zodiac in Ruhe, du Monster!'', schrie Standfire plötzlich auf. Sie konnte es nicht mehr ertragen, dass Megatron versuchte, mit ihrem Sohn irgendwelche psychischen Spielchen zu treiben und ihn gegen sie aufzuhetzen. Offenbar hatte sie jetzt die Aufmerksamkeit des Decepticons, denn er lief einige Schritte auf sie zu und packte sie unsanft am Hals. ,,Und was machst du, wenn ich ihn nicht in Ruhe lasse? Schimpft Mami dann mit mir?'', lachte er hämisch und ließ sie wieder los. ,,M- ... Ma ...'', krächzte dann eine leise Stimme neben ihr. Standfire hob ihren Blick und fuhr aus Schreck bei Zodiacs Anblick kurz zusammen. Der Kleine hatte die Augen halb geöffnet und seine Optics flackerten ein wenig. Erst als er sein weißes Gesicht etwas drehte, konnte sie die dunkelblauen Verkrustungen sehen, die von Megatrons Prügel am Vortag stammten. Sein dunkelroter Lack schimmerte nur noch in einem matten Grauton, während von seiner Schulter über seinen ganzen Körper ein wenig Energon hinabtropfte. ,,I ... Ist schon g- ... gut, ... Ma. Ich ... sag ...e- ...es ihm...'' ,,Nein, das darfst du nicht'', hauchte Standfire, der etwas Kühlflüssigkeit in die Optics schoss. Es war beinahe unertragbar, ihren Sohn so zugerichtet zu sehen. ,,Halt die Klappe!'', kam ihr Megatron dazwischen, während er sich danach sofort wieder grinsend an Zodiac wandte. ,,Fahre fort, mein kleiner. Was wolltest du eben sagen?'' ,,I- ... Ich wollte nur ... sa- ... gen... '' Zodiac machte eine kurze Pause, bevor er weitersprach. Verwundert musste Standfire bemerken, dass seine Mundwinkel etwas hochzuckten und sich zu einem schwachen Lächeln verformten. War er jetzt kurz vor einem Nervenzusammenbruch oder machte er sich gerade ernsthaft trotz seines Zustandes einen Scherz aus dieser Situation? ,,Ich wollte ... nur ... sagen ..., dass d- ... du deine Zeit ... verschwendest ... Hohlprozessor!'' Standfire war sich in dem Moment nicht sicher, ob sie für diesen Satz jubeln und lachen oder sich wegen Megatrons bevorstehendem Zorn Sorgen machen sollte. Sie entschied sich jedoch für letzteres, denn der silberne Mech schrie einmal wütend auf und deaktivierte Zodiacs Fesseln. Dieser fiel mit einem lauten Krachen auf den Boden, wurde von Megatron unsanft gepackt und hinter sich hergeschliffen. ,,Für diese Frechheit wirst du bezahlen, du kleiner Wurm, und wenn ich dich töten muss!'' ,,NEIN!!!'', schrie ihm Standfire hinterher, um noch auf irgendeine Art und Weise verhindern zu können, dass Megatron ihren Sohn aus Wut umbrachte. ,,Lass ihn gehen! Bitte!!!'' Die Stimme der weißen Femme überschlug sich aus Angst, woraufhin Megatron sich noch einmal zu ihr umdrehte und sie mit einem so eisigen Blick ansah, dass sie erstarrte. ,,Wenn ich mit euch fertig bin, wünscht ihr euch, dass ihr lieber tot wärt!'' Mit diesen Worten verschwand der silberne Mech mit Zodiac und den Wachen hinter der sich schließenden Metalltür. Standfire konnte nicht anders, als eine Weile lang nur zu dieser zu starren, in der Hoffnung, dass Megatron ihren Sohn wiederbringen würde. Aber es rührte sich nichts; auch keine Geräusche von draußen verrieten irgendetwas. Diese Stille machte die Femme fast wahnsinnig. Eine weitere Prügel des Decepticon-Anführers konnte Zodiac unmöglich in seinem Zustand verkraften... War er sogar bereits in den Allspark übergegangen? Allein den Gedanken konnte Standfire kaum ertragen und sie merkte, wie ihr langsam Kühlflüssigkeit in die Optics schoss. Wenn er wirklich tot war, wie sollte sie das Optimus erklären? Wie sollte sie es Topspin erzählen, der ihr Bruder ja mehr als alles andere bedeutete? Die Kleine wäre am Boden zerstört, wenn sie erfuhr, dass Zodiac tot war, nur weil ihre Mutter nicht verraten wollte, wer der fremde Mech war. Nein, Standfire musste etwas unternehmen, um ihren Sohn zu retten - ... Nur was sollte sie tun? Sie war gefesselt und konnte sich weder bewegen noch transformieren. Sie hätte es mit einer Waffe versuchen können, aber ihre dazu notwendigen Systeme waren offenbar deaktiviert. Vielleicht konnte sie sich ja aber von den Fesseln losreißen... Augenblicklich begann die Femme damit, mit voller Kraft an den Fesseln zu ziehen, um sie vielleicht mit viel Glück deaktivieren zu können. Sie versuchte es immer wieder, bis sie schließlich erschöpft alle Gliedmaßen entspannte und den Kopf hängen ließ. Es war zwecklos; man konnte hier nicht alleine ausbrechen. Es bedurfte schon einem Wunder, dass sie hier freikäme. Vielleicht war Optimus ja dieses Wunder. Vielleicht war er gerade dabei, das Decepticon-Kriegsschiff zu stürmen und Zodiac und sie zu retten. Neue Hoffnung wurde in Standfire geweckt und sie hätte vor Freude und Schreck zugleich durch die Decke fahren können, als sich die metallene Tür am Ende des Gefangenenraumes wieder öffnete. Für einen Moment dachte sie wirklich, dass dort Optimus war. Dann erkannte sie aber einen silbernen und daneben einen dunkelroten Lack. Die Freude und Hoffnung wandelte sich erneut in Enttäuschung und Sorge um, als Megatron den halbtoten Zodiac in den Raum warf und auf Standfire zulief. ,,Da siehst du, was mit Leuten passiert, die mir nicht gehorchen!'', grollte seine tiefe, wütende Stimme. ,,Willst du mir nun endlich verraten, wer dieser Mech ist? Oder riskierst du den Tod deines so geliebten Sohnes für dein Schweigen?'' ,,I- ... Ich'', war alles, das Standfire in diesem Moment aus sich herausbringen konnte. Sie starrte fassungslos auf Zodiac. Er war überstömt mit auslaufendem Energon und seine Optics waren stark am flackern. Sein leerer Blick traf die Wand am Ende des Raumes und seine Finger zuckten immer wieder kurz, als rang er damit, am Leben zu bleiben. Dann fasste Standfire einen Entschluss, auch wenn sie wusste, welche Folgen das hatte. ,,Ich sage es dir.'' ,,Gut'', murrte Megatron. ,,Also, raus damit!'' ,,Ich sage es dir, aber nur, wenn du Zodiac ärztlich behandeln lässt...'', antwortete die weiße Femme, während sie versuchte, einen entschlossenen Blick und eine feste Stimme zu bewahren. ,,Sterbehilfe ist auch eine ärztliche Behandlung'', grinste Megatron hämisch. ,,Du weißt, was ich meine!'', fauchte Standfire daraufhin. ,,Versorgt seine Wunden und sorgt dafür, dass er am Leben bleibt, eher werde ich kein Sterbenswörtchen von mir geben!'' ,,Woher soll ich sichergehen, dass du es mir nicht weiterhin verschweigst, wenn wir Zodiac versorgen?'', wollte der Decepticon-Anführer wissen und verzog hinterfragend sein Gesicht. ,,Weil ich weiß, dass du Zodiac doch töten wirst, wenn ich es dir nicht verrate'', antwortete sein Gegenüber, woraufhin Megatron eine Pause machte und nachdenklich den Blick sinken ließ. Schließlich sah er die Femme wieder an und nickte. ,,Gut gepokert, Autobot. Also gut, dein Sohn soll behandelt werden.'' Der silberne Mech lief zu einem Kommunikationsgerät und drückte eine Taste darauf, um seinen Medic zu kontaktieren und diesem zu sagen, was er mit Zodiac tun sollte. Kaum eine Weile später kam der Mech auch schon in den Raum geeilt und hievte mit einigen der Wachen Zodiac auf eine Trage, mit der er den jungen Autobot-Mech zu seiner Krankenstation brachte. Währenddessen drehte sich Megatron zu Standfire um und packte sie unsanft am Hals. ,,Lass es mich nicht bereuen, Femme!'', knurrte er, ließ sie los und verließ mit den restlichen Wachen den Raum... ..................................................................................... Hallöchen, ihr lieben. Ich habe es mithilfe meiner hoffentlich endlich mal länger andauernden Motivation geschafft, von gestern auf heute ein neues Kapitel zu schreiben xD Mir ist so in den Kopf gekommen, dass Standfire und Zodiac eine Weile nicht mehr gequält wurden (ja, ich weiß, ich bin grausam zu meinen OCs xD) und dieses Kapitel bietet eine schöne Einleitung für etwas, das ich schon seit Ewigkeiten geplant hatte :P Aber noch verrate ich nichts weiter xD Wenn ihr wollt, könnt ihr ja gerne Vermutungen aufstellen, ich bin mal interessiert, was dabei alles herauskommt xD Verzeiht mir zudem diesen etwas... abgehackten Anfang des Kapitels. Ich habe versucht, ihn etwas auszuschmücken, es aber dadurch glaube ich nur noch etwas schlimmer gemacht xD Im Endeffekt habe ich ihn so gelassen und gehofft, dass es noch einigermaßen lesbar ist xD Auch der Name des Kapitels ist wieder mal nur provisorisch aus der Hand gezogen, wenn jemand Änderungsvorschläge hat, kann er die gerne äußern xD Topspin ist zudem heute leider nicht dabei, deswegen beende ich die Moderation an dieser Stelle auch schon wieder ^^ Ich wünsche euch allen noch einen schönen Tag ^^ Bis zum nächsten Kapitel, LG und Naviti, Sky ^^

Für alle, die neu dazugekommen sind:

Hier auf Tumblr findet ihr nur die Kapitel von 10 aufwärts. Alle anderen sind unter anderem hier zu finden:

Naria Prime Fanfiction.net

[onestowatch]

Q&A: The Night Game Releases “Do You Think About Us” From Forthcoming Album - And It’s About a Real Girl

Last year around this time, I headed to the Roxy Theatre in Hollywood to catch a show for a band called The Night Game. Admittedly, I didn’t really know who The Night Game was at the time, but I ran into several of my hard-to-impress music friends during the opening act, who filled me in that this mysterious musician was the best thing they’d seen in a while. Chatterings of Mr. Night Game spread through the audience while we awaited his set, hearing mention of “He’s best friends with John Mayer,” to “He used to be in an emo band, but not sure which one...”

Looking around, I wondered how someone I’d never heard of could sell the place out and manage to bring all the hipster musicians boys to Hollywood all the way from Silverlake — this dude must be something special.

The stage was covered in a thick haze, and when The Night Game finally took the stage, he was only lit in silhouette and appeared to be a tall, slender guy with a mullet. His guitar player was sporting a nascar jacket and a cowboy hat, and he was legitimately one of the best guitar players I’d ever seen. For a moment, I wondered if this was a Bruce Springsteen tribute band, but just then, they started to play their single, “The Outfield,” and my friend leaned in and said, “You know that’s Martin Johnson from Boys Like Girls, right?”

Over the next few months, I would listen to the new singles by The Night Game, “Kids in Love,” “American Nights,” never fully making the connection to the former Boys Like Girls vocalist in terms of recognizability. I would later find out that this was done on purpose — since the brand’s aesthetic was initially born out of trying to trick people into NOT knowing it was him, in an effort to simply let the music speak for itself.

After almost a year of ultimately confusing most listeners, and having fully knocked his mid-2000’s “affected emo vocals” of the past, The Night Game unknowingly created one of music’s best executed identity coos ever — and the mysterious one will release his debut album on Sept. 7, followed by a hefty tour in both the US and Europe. Today, he released one of the stand out tracks from the album titled, “Do You Think About Us?” featuring Caroline Polachek from Chairlift. If you’re at all a sap, this song will definitely make you cry for the boyfriend (or girlfriend) you don’t even have.

The new single is rumored to be about a real girl in young MJ’s life — who also makes lyrical appearances in various other songs throughout the album. As far as the connection between the old “emo Martin” and the new “Night Game” Martin, there’s no doubt that there’s obvious musical growth in every way possible — and we’re loving all of it. In the end, MJ claims his return to the spotlight was because he wanted to sing again but mostly it was a way to “see if I could love music again…” If that statement doesn’t break your heart, you’re likely not human.

Take a listen to “Do You Think About Us?” and peep our Q&A with Martin Johnson of The Night Game below.

OTW: The sonic vibe of "Do You Think About Us"  is still in the same ‘80s vein as all your other songs so far — but with slightly more synth production. How did you land on the production you've used in the final version?

Martin: It’s funny — a lot of journalists are talking about this “80’s vein.” I suppose it was the choice to make most of the album’s sounds with analog synths and drum machines as opposed to simulations in the box with midi. The choices were less about finding the right sonic brand and more about how the song makes you feel...like, “Is that guitar part saying something or is it just filling space?” Francois (the albums’ co-producer) and myself wanted to put in the time to be respectful to the stories. On “Do You Think About Us?” the verses are a bit sad and melancholy; the vocal is wet in reverb and it feels like another time — Maybe in the past, with a bit of longing and nostalgia. Then the hook dries up and gets a lot louder,  and almost feels like a BPM jump — which sort of makes it go into the “Now;” [it] jumps out of the fantasy of what could have been, and becomes a direct question to a lost lover.

OTW: How does the song tie into some of your previous songs like "The Outfield" and "American Nights"?

Martin: I suppose there are some big broad stroke themes on this album: sports, sex, nostalgia, loneliness and searching for love/lost love (sometimes in the wrong places); searching for the American dream (what is it exactly? is it just a mirage?). I think this song fits into the sex, nostalgia, and searching “boxes,” but could probably also fit into the sports box depending on what type of sex you’re having.

OTW: We were lucky enough to preview the album which comes out on Sept. 7. There are references to remembering "being 18" in other songs on the album.... is there a specific person this song is about?

Martin: Depending on the day, it’s more the “being 18” than it is the girl, but yes, there is a specific girl for this one. She just had her second kid and is very in love with her husband — I’m happy for her. “Do You Think About Us?” is less an “I want you back” and more of a “sliding doors” type fantasy. What would it have been like if I went with her to that college instead of getting in a 15 passenger van with some boys back in ‘04?

OTW: Caroline Polachek is featured on this track and has a great voice, what made you decide to feature her on the track?

Martin: I tried a couple different features on this song but believability and vulnerability were both really important to me. I needed the right voice to tell the story. I had been working with a version of the song where I was temp singing the female part for months when Caroline and I met in Eastside LA with a group of people and became fast friends. We went for a hike the next day and were talking about writing together, and I played her the song in my car. She said “I like this. Do you want me to try to sing it?” — it was as simple as that. I’m really grateful to have her a part of it — she’s an incredible vocalist and performer both in the booth and on stage.

OTW: What are you most excited/nervous about for when the album comes out?

Martin: You know that feeling when you’re a kid: it’s sunday night at 10:30pm and you have an essay due the next day that you haven’t started yet, and you’ve had a week to work on it? I’ve had that feeling for four years. I think the thing I’m the most excited about is just actually being done with it. I’ve been picking at it for quite a while. Once it comes out, I can’t work on it anymore — it just is what it is. I’m doing my best to disconnect from the immediate results. I didn’t make this album for financial gain or to earn praise, I made it to see if i could love music again. I’m still not sure about that one, but I’m hoping the answer is out on the road.

OTW: Speaking of which, you’re about to go on a pretty big tour starting around the time of album release. What are you most excited about for the new tour?

Martin: I’m hoping they put some ice backstage in Europe. usually It's pretty hard to get ice in Europe.I like cold beverages. Sue me, I’m American.

EUROPEAN  &  FESTIVAL  DATES 9/8  Berlin,  DE 9/10  Vienna,  AT  -  Flex 9/11  Zurich,  CH  -  Plaza 9/12  Dresden,  DE  -  Beatpol 9/14  Gottingen,  DE  -  NDR  2  Radio  Festival 9/15  Baden  Baden,  DE  -  SWR  3  Radio  Festival 9/16  Munich,  DE  -  Strom 9/18  Frankfurt,  DE  -  Zoom 9/20  Hamburg,  DE  -  Reeperbahn 9/22  Cologne,  DE  -  Gebaeude  9 9/24  Amsterdam,  NL  -  Melkweg  Upstairs 9/27  London,  UK – Electrowerkz

NORTH  AMERICAN  TOUR  DATES 10/8  Vancouver,  BC  -  Vogue  Theatre* 10/9  Portland,  OR  -  Wonder  Ballroom* 10/10  Seattle,  WA  -  The  SHowbox* 10/13  Sacramento,  CA  -  Ace  of  Spades* 10/14  San  Francisco,  CA  -  August  Hall* 10/17  San  Diego,  CA  The  Observatory  North  Park* 10/19  Los  Angeles,  CA  -  The  Novo* 10/20  Anaheim,  CA  -  House  of  Blues* 10/31  Denver,  CO  -  Larimer  Lounge 11/2  Chicago,  IL  -  Chop  Shop 11/3  Pontiac,  MI  -  Pike  Room 11/4  Cleveland,  OH  -  HoB  Cambridge  Room 11/7  Brooklyn,  NY  -  Warsaw 11/8  Boston,  MA  -  Great  Scott 11/9  Washington,  DC  -  Rock  n  Roll    Hotel 11/10  Charlotte,  NC  -  Visulite  Theater 11/12  Nashville,  TN  -  Basement  East 11/13  Atlanta,  GA  -  The  Loft 11/14  New  Orleans,  LA  -  Gasa  Gasa 11/15  Houston,  TX  -  The  Studio  at  Warehouse  Live 11/16  Dallas,  TX  -  Trees 11/17  Austin,  TX  -  The  Parish 11/20  Phoenix,  AZ  -  Valley  Bar *  Supporting  St  Lucia

[avelera]

✅ and/or 🤡 for the writer emoji ask? Also can't wait for Ch.17 of GS!!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Ok so there's ONE line in Ch. 16 of "Giving Sanctuary" that had me in stitches but it's smack dab in the middle of an otherwise VERY busy chapter with all the smut and tragedy and misunderstanding, so I'm not surprised that no one really commented on it but:

“Are you well, Hob?” Dream inquired. He was dressed too now, but his black shirt was loose at the collar and while his appearance was as pristine as ever, there was no formality in his bearing or his attire. “You’re shivering.”

“Uh, yeah, suppose I am,” Hob stuttered. “S’nice sometimes to start the day with a cold bath, you know? Like a really cold bath. It gets the blood pumping, especially on a hot day like this.”

Outside, the rain pattered softly against the window, filling the silence as Hob stared at Dream, willing him to ignore the utter lack of sunshine outside.

I'm a total nerd with nerdlike humor to match and the thought of Hob just so pathetically trying to explain away his cold bath that morning as anything but trying to hide his arousal towards Dream by claiming it's just some freakin'... health benefit thing he does as a weirdo human and it's especially good on a hot day and then the camera just slooooowly drawing back to show them both standing there, framed against the window, and showing the fact it's a soggy, gray, miserable cold day in England outside and Hob is just staring at Dream, desperately willing him not to look out the gigantic windows behind them and notice this incredibly obvious fact makes me cry actual tears of laughter at my own joke, I can just see it so clearly in my head.

Thank you for the ask, I can't wait to get Ch. 17 to you guys!!

[avelera]

Eh, fuckit, writing this made want to write an alternate version where Hob actually got to give the confession he was hoping to give / Destiny didn't effectively kidnap Dream for a month so if you ever wished Giving Sanctuary ended at Ch. 16, boy have I got the AU of an AU for you!

Giving Sanctuary Alt Ch. 16 Au of an Au: Electric Boogalooo

I still laugh rereading comments for Giving Sanctuary that are agonizing over the slow burn. And I completely get it, the actual amount of time passing in the story is secondary to the amount of time the reader spends in the story. It doesn’t matter that something only takes an hour in universe if it’s a 100,000 words to cover it.

… at the same time though, like, if I had put the date at the top of each chapter I wonder if it would be clearer to people how much of a relationship speedrun Dream and Hob are in that fic?

The continuous time from when Dream invites Hob to when they confess to one another is ONE WEEK. One week! It gets stretched out artificially to 5 weeks because of Destiny, but even that is only for one half of the pair, it’s still only 1 week for Dream. They are completely unhinged for each other lol.

And this part may sound a bit overly defensive but I think the amount of time from when they both knew their own feelings, both had pretty good evidence that the other might be interested too, AND they weren’t actively dealing with either 1) literally getting Hob settled after literal decades of traumatizing years on the streets or 2) actively dealing with mourning their sons either through dream flashback or the trip to Naxos (including its immediate grief hangover for Dream, because being like “Yeah I know you just ripped open the wound of your sons death to allow it to finally heal YESTERDAY but like… do you like me? As more than a friend??” Is just objectively imo the teeniest bit insensitive and something Hob is painfully aware of having just gone through it himself? Dream doesn’t pop the question after Hob’s ordeal either) … is quite literally ONE DAY.

Like literally, Hob goes home with Dream June 7th, they do the Robyn thing June 8, June 9 Dream says he wants to go to Naxos, June 10 they actually go, June 11 Jessamy appears and it’s a recovery day, June 12 Hob considers telling him but wants to wait until Dream isn’t pissed off about Destiny’s pestering and his own libido comes back which throws him for a loop and makes him anxious about dealing with the physical side of things in the midst of all the emotional stuff and that night going into June 13, Dream offers Hob the boon, more or less hoping that Hob will use it for something romantic between them or, failing that, just something that makes him happy. Dream is not clueless as of June 13, he’s 90% sure Hob is into him, they’ve had a couple days since Naxos so it’s not actively inappropriate to have the discussion, Dream is scrupulously careful of the power imbalance and wants Hob to make the first move before he makes his own feelings known in a way that could feel like pressure or Hob is beholden to him, since Hob openly voices a sense of inferiority and owing fealty.

Meanwhile Hob has screwed his courage to the sticking place, he’s ready to take the advice of Calliope, he’s got the boon and plans to use it as an escape hatch if it all goes poorly (basically as Dream intended btw! Dream sensed that something about the power imbalance was holding Hob back and he didn’t know HOW Hob would use the boon but wanted to give him an “one time use of Endless-level power” in the hopes that it might put Hob at ease and maybe even nudge him towards revealing his heart’s desire and maybe that would include Dream).

Literally that NIGHT, Hob was resolved to pose the question in the morning after a day of agonizing. Dream sensed the next morning was going to be significant and was flirting like crazy to give the “all systems go” signal to Hob that whatever he said would be welcome but Dream was PRETTY SURE he knew and wholly welcomed the advances.

Indeed, that was a huge part of why when Hob had the sex dream (courtesy of the proximity and everything that happened that day with the flirting plus his body coming back online after some time to recover its strength) Dream enthusiastically joined in. In his mind, Hob had pretty heavily implied that the next day he was going to ask to court Dream (or equivalent) so his reaching out in his dreams sexually was pretty much the same thing and Dream took it, perhaps incorrectly, as the signal he needed of Hob’s interest so he could finally pounce with his own enthusiastic consent. Dream is not a being of words, ironically. He thought Hob’s actions were pretty clear and he made very clear that he was excited and willing with this turn of events, basically “Yes! Finally!”

(Btw plenty of people picked up on this lol I’m not saying this went over people’s heads.)

The break down of communication was that Hob had his very careful, courtly, CHASTE proposal he wanted to tentatively put forth the other day, absolutely terrified he’d misread the situation or that Calliope had deliberately set him up to fail out of spite, or any other number of ways it could go wrong like—even if things had gone as planned he was going to be TERRIFIED to ask if maybe he was reading the signals right and Dream really had been flirting for the past 5-6 DAYS and if so that Hob was interested in earning Dream’s love in any way he’d be allowed. He was going to be CAREFUL and POETIC and RESPECTFUL and very ready to backpedal and use the boon if necessary to ask Dream not to be mad at him for presuming to know his mind.

So to wake up having had a vivid sex dream and be confronted with evidence that he lost control of himself in the night and basically assaulted or at least dirtied his friend in the most embarrassing way possible, all the physical stuff he would have been petrified to presume before he got the chance to be all courtly and poetic about his feelings, sent him into an absolute tailspin of fear that he’d fucked it up before he had the chance to get it right or slowly introduce the idea of adding a more romantic side to their relationship.

(Gosh now I want to write an AU of an AU where things did go as Hob planned lol)

So Hob has his freak out. Without Destiny’s shenanigans and without Dream also freaking out and potentially mind wiping Hob by accident in an effort to grant him what he apparently wanted which was to forget it ever happened… Dream and Hob probably would have reconvened the next day once they both calmed down and had a chance to think about what happened and realize there might have been misunderstandings (most likely because of Jessamy bonking Dream over the head and telling him to go make sure Hob knew it was actually him in the dream.

Even WITH the dinner though, door to door, that would mean on June 14th, 1 week after the White Horse meeting, they’re officially Together as a couple.

In that light I will say, I personally don’t think Hob was wrong on June 12 to decide to wait until morning after Dream was flirting with him all that day. He wanted to be awake and clear headed with a whole day ahead of them to discuss or patch things up if it went poorly. He was mostly sure he was reading the signals right but the catastrophe and loss in that 1% chance he was wrong was just too terrible to risk late at night after a confusing day. And Dream read that signal loud and clear that Hob was nervous and wanted to clear a space for them to discuss this and was wholly enthusiastic about reconvening once Hob had rested and gathered himself. But Dream was only holding himself back until he got a clear signal of interest from Hob first which he took the sex dream to be because dreams are obviously real to him and there was love permeating the whole thing (hence why Dream was so confused and upset about Hob’s freak out, neglecting to realize Hob’s point of view here of being in a tenuous situation, because Dream was so infatuated himself that it didn’t occur to him that Hob still found him hard to read and feared the consequences of being wrong).

Anyway! I still regret nothing about that sequence lol I love rereading the readers’ tears but I still wanted to defend my timeline and say these guys are totally unhinged and it’s not actually a slow burn at all by any normal human standard it’s like one night where they maybe could have said something sooner and it wouldn’t have been wildly inappropriate.

[grandmasterofwangxiancultivation]

HOB ch.23-24

FINALLY, i’m back to hob’s universe. i had to stop reading this because university, but now that i’m freaking done with my exams, i can enjoy it as i wanted *^*

aaaaah, i missed xie lian and hua cheng SO MUCH- just look at my beautful san lang taking that strange plant and going to cure his gege’s hand immediately as if that’s the only thing that matters. god, i love him

San Lang didn’t respond, and after applying the powder he let go of Xie Lian’s hand. Xie Lian couldn’t help but think his attitude and this weird atmosphere between the two of them was really off, but didn’t know how to ask about it without sounding weird. This wasn’t something anyone else would notice either and couldn’t possibly understand.

(he just hates you putting yourself in danger for the sake of other people, he waited too much for you, gege! aaaaah they are beautiful, help me-)

EDIT: awkward hualian is making me wanna hug those two, i need them to remain alone and more of san lang protecting his gege 

EDIT 2: THERE IS A FRAKING F A C E IN THE GROUND. WHAT THE HELL. THAT’S CREEPY.

EDIT 3: omg okay, if i already didn’t love san lang, i would fall in love with him right now. he went for a version of that plant that had not been fertilised by humans ‘cause he knew xie lian wouldn’t like it, and that’s so thoughtful and beautiful and i feel blessed. BLESSED.

Ever since Xie Lian had gotten stung by the scorpion snake, San Lang had behaved like this. A couple days ago it was all ge ge this, ge ge that, but now he barely called him ge ge anymore. When they first met, San Lang had avoided his touch and seemed weary of contact with Xie Lian, but that seemed to have gone away after spending so much time together. Now, besides sucking poison and applying herbs, San Lang was once again avoiding touching him, and that made Xie Lian feel weird. He’s not used to this distance.

i am getting so freaking emotional, this is so angsty and bittersweet, i love hearing sl calling him gege, it’s what keeps me alive, so i want them to talk and figure this out pls make it possible please please please-

EDIT 4: 

The mud face replied, “There’s someone amongst you I’ve seen before… fifty to sixty years ago.”

A shiver went down everyone’s back and made their hairs stand.

No mortal in present company should be aged over fifty. That means whoever this person was that was here then was not human.

this is getting creepier by the minute, what the fuck- i love this. I LOVE THIS.

EDIT 5: i think the face is talking about san lang? since, you know, he is a big deal in the demon world and long. HE WON’T HURT ANYONE AS LONG AS THEY DON’T HURT XIE LIAN, CHIIIIILL.

EDIT 6: 

Xie Lian pushed himself off the ground about to walk away before the mud face raised his voice, “Do you really not want to know who it is? He will kill all of you.”

yeah, i think he really is talking about him. though i don’t trust some of the merchants? and a-zhao? mmmmh

EDIT 7: okay, tha face? that face is getting unsettling me so much WHY DO THOSE MERCHANT IDIOTS GET CLOSER??? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THEM!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!

EDIT 8: what the fUCK DID I JUST READ EWWWWWWWW

Xie Lian grabbed the merchant by his collar and backed up, but the tongue that flew out was freakishly lengthy and barged right into the merchant’s ear!

Xie Lian felt the body in his hold convulse violently, the merchant’s limbs writhed nonstop, and the man let out a short agonizing scream before falling to the ground. That long tongue dug out a large chunk of something bloody from his ear and and brought it back to the mud face’s mouth.

sorry, see you later, i’m gonna throw up-

EDIT 9: 

He was about to attack the repulsive monster when the mud face screamed again, “GENERAL! GENERAL! THEY’RE HERE! THEY’RE HERE!”

A deafening cry more savage than beasts blared in the distance.

YOU ATROCIOUSLY IDIOTIC HUMAN PLANT-----------

EDIT 10:

The massive nine feet man they called ‘general’ seemed to have found the squirming mud face deeply disgusting, and swung his mace towards him, smashing his face into a bloody mess, the teeth of his mace piercing his brains. When he pulled up his mace again, the entire body was pulled out with it, fulfilling his wish of “let me out!”. And the body that was unearth was not a full human body, but a skeleton.

(okay, now i feel... uhm, i feel a bit sad. yeah, sorry annoying-face-in-the-mud, i think i jinxed you?

THAT FACE IS STILL ALIVE WHAT THE HELL. well, “alive” is probably too big of a word, but... *sugh* i am gonna refer to this as the annoying-face-in-the-mud arc from now on.)

The mud face countered immediately, “That wasn’t odd! It was just… a tongue a bit longer than average!”

*hysterical laugh* SERIOUSLY?

EDIT 11:

He said in a small voice, “Don’t worry. If anything happens I will go forward first.”

Xie Lian thought if they must all fall, then he might as well be the first one to check things out. It couldn’t be worse than venomous snakes and beasts, menacing ghosts and demons. He couldn’t die from falling, he couldn’t die from poison, he couldn’t die from bites, and he couldn’t die from getting hit. As long as it wasn’t some pool of corpse dissolving water, his body shouldn’t be damaged too horribly.

NO OKAY? NO. SOMEONE STOPS HIM RIGHT THIS INSTANT I KNOW SAN LANG WON’T ALLOW SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO HAPPEN OR WILL AT LEAST GO WITH HIM OMG why does xie lian talk about himself like that, i hate this, just because you can’t get hurt doesn’t mean you have to care so little for yourself, babe, i love you so much-

EDIT 12: okay, wow, a-zhao went down and i... did not expect that, since i was suspicious of him too, so now i feel guilty. again. ugh. also, that pit sounds even more scary now that, supposedly, a-zhao’s body has been teared apart.

EDIT 13: THE SOLDIERS ARE INSULTING HIM AND I AM GETTING MAD HOW  D A R E  Y O U- also, bitch? you wanna die, you are freaking asking for it-

EDIT 14: 

There was no helping it. Xie Lian was ready to jump if all else fails anyway. Behind him San Lang stepped forward.

Xie Lian’s heart lurched and turned around.

With his arms crossed, the boy was nonchalantly looking over the dark, bottomless pit with an air of intrigue. This wasn’t a good sign, and Xie Lian called out, “San Lang?”

Hearing his call, San Lang looked over and smiled softly, “Don’t worry.”

(WHATEVER YOU ARE GONNA DO, DON’T DO IT. I’M NOT GONNA READ IT SO IT WON’T HAPPEN. I AM FREAKING SCARED BUT- well. san lang won’t get hurt, right? BUT I DON’T WANT HIM TO SUFFER EITHER. just look at this cutie pie smiling at his gege and telling him not to worry i’m done-)

San Lang took another step forward and was teetering dangerously on the edge. Both Xie Lian’s head and heart started pounding, and he called again, “Wait, San Lang, don’t move!”

At such height at the brink, the boy’s red clothes danced in the night breeze. San Lang glanced at him again with a smile, “Don’t be scared.”

“Come back here. Come back here and I won’t be scared.” Xie Lian said.

(THAT LAST SENTENCE. HEAVEN HELPS ME. 

shit shit shIT I’M CRYING OMG THEIR ARE TOO BEAUTIFUL XIE LIAN IS SO WORRIED SINCE HE IS STILL NOT SURE ABOUT HIS IDENTITY AND HE DOESN’T WANT TO RISK IT AND SAN LANG IS SO SOFT AND PROTECTIVE OF HIM GUYS MY HEART IS BEING TEARED APART I WANNA CRY THIS IS TO PRECIOUS HELP)

EDIT 15: XIE LIAN SCREAMING HIS NAME AND JUMPING AFTER HIM ONLY TO BE HELD BACK I AM DYING SO FAST RIGHT NOW

why did no one tell me this was so painfull-

EDIT 16: okay, why is a dead girl throwing them all down-

EDIT 17: 

He thought he was going to crater and flatten like a pancake like many times before when suddenly, in the darkness, there was a flash of silver.

A pair of hands lightly caught him.

Whoever it was caught him perfectly, as if this person was made just to catch him at the bottom. With a hand across his back to grasp his shoulders, another under his knees to support his weight, the dreadful gravity of the fall was dissolved to nothing. Still dazed and confounded from falling at such a height, Xie Lian unconsciously held on tight to that person’s shoulders and called, “San Lang?”

The pit was filled with darkness, nothing could be seen, including the person. But Xie Lian still called that name. The other didn’t respond so Xie Lian patted and squeezed the chest and shoulders just to make sure. “San Lang, is that you?”

(OKAY I AM ALIVE

I am not sure a posses the words to explain how i feel, but even if i knew san lang was gonna catch him (that he was fine), my heart is pounding so hard and i love how strongly xie lian is reacting to him, unconsciously feeling him up to make sure he is fine. i didn’t know it’d be like this, they are gonna be the end of me.)

It took a moment before he heard the boy’s low voice from very close to him, “I’m ok.”

Xie Lian didn’t know why, but this voice was curiously different than before.

(BECAUSE THAT’S HUA CHENG, BABE, AND IT’S HAPPENING? IS SAN LANG FINALLY SHOWING HIS TRUE FORM???? ARE THEY GONNA MEET NOW?!??!?!?!?!!??!?)