#prisoner zero has escaped

[davethecatstealer]

Y'all help I think there's a crack in time on my ceiling

[harperroseanderson]

Throwback to one cloudy morning when I expected a loud angry voice from above to shout at Prisoner Zero to vacate the human residence or face incineration...

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Hot take maybe but I think Bertie would be FAR more likely to survive the first two months of Dracula than Jeeves would be. Bertie has a healthy sense of self-preservation. Jeeves consistently underestimates how dangerous a situation might get (Steeple Bumpleigh, the club book) because he’s overconfident about his level of control over any given situation. He'd handle Dracula masterfully if they faced off in England, but on Dracula's home turf? Much more doubtful.

I realize this might be a tough sell, so I will explain further (or it's not a tough sell, and I'm going to explain further because I want to). (criteria taken from @canyourfavesurvivecastledracula) Without further ado.

Would Jeeves and Wooster survive Castle Dracula?

Jeeves

Jeeves' survival will depend on how long Dracula finds him more entertaining than irritating. On that basis, I don't think he's long for this world. On the one hand, he has a huge wealth of knowledge about English society and culture that he can recite perfectly from memory. That should buy him at least a little time with noted teaboo Dracula.

On the other hand, he would be absolutely no fun as a vampire plaything. Jeeves cannot be got. Sneaking up on him while he's shaving will yield zero reaction (though that's at least good for his short-term survival--given that, although he DID take the crucifix from the old woman out of politeness, he certainly isn't going to wear it. The rules of fashion don't go out the window just because you're in a spooky castle). Then, although managing the whims of rich jerks is not an insignificant part of a valet's job, Jeeves usually does this by bending his employers to his will. Dracula is not the sort of employer this will work on. It'll just add insult to injury when on top of being impossible to scare, NOW Jeeves is telling Dracula that his favorite cloak is several centuries out of fashion and he's not allowed to wear it anymore.

Jeeves will 100% go exploring in the areas he was told not to go-- though to be fair, he MIGHT actually get away with this, what with his superpower of appearing in rooms without being seen or heard. Said superpower might save him from the brides as well (though this is by no means guaranteed). Since I find it doubtful that Dracula would come to rescue his annoying ass, not being noticed is his best defense.

There are a couple other things working in Jeeves's favor; the question is just whether they'll be enough to save him.

He DOES know shorthand, and could try to send coded letters. He might even have the foresight to squirrel away some extra stationary where Dracula can't find it. But could he get them posted? Would it even do him any good?

He certainly has enough cultural literacy to figure out what his new boss is pretty quickly. If he didn't chuck the crucifix out the carriage window, he might start carrying it around in his pocket.

Psychology of the individual, sure, but the individual in question is a 400-year-old vampire who lives in an isolated castle in a foreign country and is regarded as a terrifying mythological figure in the surrounding villages. Jeeves has never come up against anything this alien before, he's cut off from his normal resources, and opportunities to play people against each other are limited.

He probably has enough upper body strength from all that shrimping and fishing to climb the wall, so he COULD escape if he wanted to, if he survived long enough. It's just, again, that overconfidence, and also Dracula has a vast library full of rare old books that are entirely at his disposal. He's keeping his eyes and ears alert for potential escape strategies, of course, but I don't see him being as desperate to get out as Jonathan was.

There are just a lot of "depends on"s here, and I'm not convinced that luck would shake out in Jeeves's favor, all things considered.

Bertie

Bertie is so perfect for the job of Castle Dracula Prisoner it's like it was made for him. Think about it. Being held against his will in big manor houses comes more naturally to him than breathing. He's afraid of things that are scary. A lifetime of dealing with Aunt Agatha has made him the world's preeminent expert in "curl[ing] up in a ball in the hope that a meek subservience [will] enable [him] to get off lightly." He will NEVER go exploring in places he's been warned away from if nobody is forcing him to (Rev. Aubrey Upjohn's office notwithstanding. There were biscuits in there). He's both fun to talk to and easy to toy with (and extremely English). A+ prisoner. Dracula adores him.

In my opinion, Bertie is at Castle Dracula either because Aunt Agatha got some wires seriously crossed and thinks he’s going to meet an eligible potential bride (I mean, there are certainly brides there), or because Dracula has something Aunt Dahlia wants him to steal (far less likely, given that one of Dracula’s THINGS is famously not owning anything silver). Either way, he's shown himself entirely willing and able to escape down drainpipes if a sitch gets too scaly.

He DOES take the crucifix, and DOES wear it (which is what will save him during the shaving scene, because you KNOW he's going to jump a foot and cut himself like the dickens). He's read enough supernatural goosefleshers to be genre savvy about terrified old women cryptically pushing crucifixes into one's hands. I also think his sunny disposish endeared him to the villagers, and they were particularly vehement about urging him not to go. He doesn't speak German or Romanian, but he's empathetic enough to recognize Pure Terror. So by the time he actually gets to the castle, his imagination is already running wild and he's plenty aware that he is in imminent danger.

I think the biggest risk to Bertie will be the brides; whether or not he's susceptible to trances, if he thinks they're trying to marry him, it's against the code of the Woosters to turn them down. But that only becomes an issue if he comes face to face with them, which, luckily, I think is unlikely on account of the aforementioned "won't go exploring" (and if he did, Dracula would definitely rescue him).

I'm inclined to say due to his drainpipe-escape habits that he WOULD be able to climb the wall and MAY attempt to sneak into Dracula's room to look for the keys if his desperation grows to outweigh his fear. Whether he does or not, though, he does NOT have the stomach to attempt shovel murder, and therefore won't get magic brain fever, and may very well simply walk out the front doors when the people come to take the boxes away. OR he climbs his way out like Jonathan did. Either way.

When Bertie tells this story at the Drones later, Tuppy will say that no doubt it's been greatly exaggerated and all that probably happened was that he spent a couple months in an oldish house entertaining a weird loner.

[corrodedbisexual]

Modern-ish Steddie AU where they meet in jail.

Steve shouldn't even be here; he got arrested for shoplifting, but it was all a misunderstanding. He was actually trying to prevent a shoplifting when he saw a couple of kids stuffing chocolate bars into their jacket pockets. They bolted, and he chased after them; unfortunately, he was still holding a bottle of (rather expensive) wine in hand as he did that, so he ended up the perceived cause of the blaring store alarm while the two shitheads escaped with zero consequences.

The store's got security cameras. So it will probably be fine, right? It will all be resolved soon enough. Steve just has to wait.

What makes him more nervous is the guy he's sharing the cell with.

Wild curly hair, tattoos all over his exposed arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt, the man wears orange like he was born in it. He seems to be about Steve's age, in his early 20s, but it's hard to tell. When Steve's brought in, he's lounging carelessly on his bed, trying to fold a piece of toilet paper into what looks like a crane.

The guy looks dangerous; who knows what could provoke him. Steve just settles quietly into the corner of his own bed at the opposite wall, drawing his knees up to his chin and trying to keep his head down. Literally.

Except every time he glances up, the man's rather intense stare is on him. Five minutes into this awkward silence, Steve can't handle it anymore, so he clears his throat and speaks up, still choosing to look at the floor.

"So, uh... what are you in for?"

He cringes immediately. It's probably the worst possible question to ask, and one most likely to get you a punch in the face. But when Steve looks up, he finds his cellmate fully grinning, now busying himself with tearing the toilet paper into little bits.

"Oh, just a bit of murder," he answers casually. "Our lord Satan requires sacrifice, you know."

Steve's almost convinced the guy's fucking with him (because surely, murder suspects are placed in separate cells from the minor offense folk, right?) but he's still a little terrified.

The guy (Eddie, Steve finally learns the name, although that might not be a real one) keeps talking, throwing balls of paper into the toilet by the wall. He keeps missing; there's little bits of white all over the floor already.

He says he's been to prison twice. Grand theft auto and arson. Escaped both times, apparently. He's planning an escape right now, too. Goes on, with a manic grin and wild gestures, about how one of the guards is actually a member of his cult, has got him covered.

It all has to be bullshit. It has to be. Steve doesn't dare comment on it, because at the small chance that it's actually true, he's fucked if he pisses this guy off.

A single paper ball finally lands inside the toilet, and Eddie whoops so loudly that Steve almost jumps.

"Aaaand the crowds cheer, boys'n'girls all going wild screaming his name!" Eddie yells, rapidly drumming his palms on his thighs. "It's the rising star of the new hot game of pottyball, it's Eddieee Munsooon!"

Yeah, so whatever the man was or wasn't lying about, Steve's not about to engage. Eddie's clearly all kinds of insane, he thinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as the guy, seemingly over his silly little game, starts wrapping the toilet paper around his head like a turban.

Except five minutes later, Eddie apparently decides that Steve's much better entertainment than toilet paper. He rolls off the bed and strolls across the tiny cell, stopping right in front of Steve, who in turn is doing his best to become one with the concrete wall behind him. With a shit-eating grin, Eddie strikes a pose, hip jutted out and one hand trying to keep the unsteady headgear in place.

"D'you think I look like a beautiful prince, Stevie?" He asks, batting his eyelashes. (Oh god, why did Steve tell him his real name, what was he thinking.) "Would you go on a magic carpet ride with me?"

Steve can't help it. He bursts out laughing. It almost sounds like Eddie's trying to flirt with him, except Steve stands by his insane conviction, because who the fuck flirts like that?!

The laughter doesn't seem to deter Eddie. He's grinning even wider now, and then he plants both hands on the bed on each side of Steve and leans in, tilting his head.

"Well aren't you pretty when you smile, princess."

Cold sweat runs down the back of Steve's neck as a sudden implication of what might be happening here hits him. He's only heard about it from like, movies and stuff, but does this actually happen? Oh shit. Is Steve gonna become this guy's prison bitch? Jail bitch, technically?

What's worse, a tiny voice in Steve's head suggests that maybe it's not so bad, actually. Eddie's a lunatic, but at least he's hot. (Really hot, if Steve's honest with himself.) And terrifying, so nobody would mess with Steve so long as he's Eddie's... whatever.

Thankfully, Steve's saved from further contemplating his hypothetical future prison life by a key rattling in the cell's lock; Eddie immediately leans back and jumps across the room, so by the time Chief Hopper steps through the door, he's already sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands folded in his lap, a picture of pure innocence.

Hopper turns to Steve first, something apologetic in his voice as he says, "We viewed the security camera footage, you're free to go, Harrington."

With a relieved huff, Steve scrambles to get up. Meanwhile, Hopper turns his attention to Eddie, regards the half-fallen-apart ridiculousness on his head, rolls his eyes and heaves a tired-sounding sigh.

"You too, Munson. Next time someone dares you to streak through a public space, just pick truth instead, would ya?"

Ten minutes later, they both walk outside in their street clothes. Well, Steve's in his street clothes; Eddie's only garment is a thin grey medical blanket Hopper's helpfully provided him with. Eddie's wrapped it around himself like a toga.

"So..." Steve turns to him and smirks. "How much exactly of what you said in there was total bullshit?"

Eddie cackles at the question. "I'd say about... ninety percent. I clearly am a rising star of pottyball, you know." He waits a beat for Steve to laugh, then adds, "And you do have a very pretty smile."

Steve bites his lip, feeling heat in his cheeks at the compliment. In the light of day, outside the cell, it's like he sees Eddie for the first time, in his silly blanket toga, squinting at the bright sunlight. And he feels ridiculous about ever thinking this man could be dangerous. Insane? Probably. Full of shit? Oh, definitely. Hot? Yes, very much. Dangerous though? Laughable.

And so, Steve finds himself asking, "Wanna get coffee and tell me something real about yourself?"

Eddie looks surprised by the offer, his smile turning a little bashful, and he hides behind a lock of hair before looking down at himself and chuckling.

"I'm probably gonna need some clothes first."

"Nah," Steve teases, briefly checking him out. "You're rocking this outfit."

"And you're absolutely right, I am, but unfortunately this thing is about five seconds from falling apart," Eddie pointedly fixes the half-loosened knot on his shoulder. "And something tells me Hopper won't be so lenient about repeated public indecency."

Steve giggles and finally takes pity on the guy. "Okay, my car's parked, like, two blocks from here. I have some clean gym clothes you can borrow."

"Lead the way, pretty boy," Eddie grins and follows him with a goofy little twirl.

Divider credit

[ponderingmoonlight]

Being held hostage by Ryomen Sukuna

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: How you ended up in Sukuna's prison instead of getting killed in an instant? You don't know. What you do know however that the king of curse has more to offer than what you ever imagined...

Warnings: no real smut but it's getting heated y'all, Sukuna being a smooth operator, not 100% proofread

enjoy

„Feeling lonely?“

You huff to yourself, wrists desperately fighting against the chains that keep you in place, tired eyes roaming around in order to find him.

Him, Ryomen Sukuna. The monster who kidnapped you and brought you here, chained you to the ceiling while kneeling on the cold ground. Fuck, how did you even allow him to catch you like this? Why didn’t you use your sphere, fight against him, give everything you have?

You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at his stupid grin with nothing but rejection. Because that man in front of you is more than a simple curse, let alone a human being. Not even you, a special grade jujutsu sorcerer, stood a chance against him. Not when you were too focused on saving your student’s lives to realize that you run straight into his open arms.

“I hate that look on your stupid pretty face. It almost looks like…disgust…”, he comments dryly.

With a swift motion, he yanks your chin upward, forces you to stare straight into his red eyes. You hate the way your nerves start tingling by just one look at him, the horror that radiates from those crimson orbs. If he wanted to, he could kill you without blinking, could end your life right here without hesitating. But instead, he decided to chain you into his living room in order to tease you.

“That’s exactly what it is”, you press out, failing miserably in an attempt to escape the sheer force of his fingertips.

“Feisty, I like it. We have a great time ahead of us, (y/n).”

The way he says your name runs shivers down your spine. Fuck, that unpromising look on his face makes you slowly but surely lose your composure. But why…Why are you even here? Why did none other than Ryomen Sukuna decide that you have to stay alive even though he would have been able to kill you without thinking twice? Why are you trapped here instead of six feet under?

“Why am I not dead yet?”

The words escape your mouth faster than you’re able to think. Slowly, he kneels down in front of you, nothing but amusement glimmering in his deadly orbs. Your heart almost beats out of your chest. Why does the air suddenly feel thicker, your lungs refusing their service while all you’re able to do is staring at him? Ryomen Sukuna is your worst enemy, killed countless people, brought nothing but grief your way. But…

You swallow hard. Did he really just get on his knees in front of you?

“I’ve been observing you for quite some time. Even though you’re nothing but a weak human, there’s something I haven’t seen before. Something I want to explore”, he replies with low voice.

Fuck, you hate the way your knees suddenly feel weak, how you squirm under his gaze. Are you out of your goddamn mind? This isn’t Nanami or Gojo. No, this is the king of curses himself. He’ll kill you without blinking when he has enough of you. God, what the hell is wrong with your taste in men anyway? You almost lost your composure when you met Choso back then at Shibuya…

When the man kneeling in front of you killed so many people that you lost count, almost ending your life as well when you were only inches away from getting caught in his sphere.

“No thanks. I have absolutely zero interest in getting explored by you”, you bite back.

Oh, what a filthy little lie. Just the thought of seeing him shirtless drives your imagination wild, sets something free you weren’t even aware of existing. Even though your eyes show nothing but dismissal, your body tells you otherwise.

“We’ll see about that.”

You almost choke on your own salvia when his hands grab your wrist out of the sudden, chest so close to you that you can almost taste the smell of musk and amber radiating from the sheer heat of his body that is only covered by his white robe. If you wanted to, you could rest your head against his broad chest, enjoy the sensation of his body against yours-

Before you’re able to react, your body collapses onto the cold ground, stained wrist set free by none other than Sukuna himself.

“Thanks, asshole”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Your body feels like pudding, so weak that you can’t lift yourself off the floor as gracefully as you wanted to. How long have you been here already? Way too long as it seems. You glare at him through the messy strands of hair that stick to your face like glue. Just that satisfied grin on his face is enough to fuel your anger all over again.

“You really think you’re a tough one, huh? And that after I saw how you pressed your legs together when I came a little closer.”

“You’re a monster”, you argue.

He roams closer. Like a hunter he circles you, nothing but amusement and something way darker glistening in his eyes.

“You killed my comrades, my friends, innocent people-“

“So what?”, he casually replies.

His hands wrap themselves around your hair before you can stop him. You stare at him in sheer disbelief, head fighting against the sheer force of his fingers unsuccessfully. How on earth did you end up here?

“Your love and affection for others is your true weakness, (y/n). Without your puny thoughts over people who give a damn about you, you’d be unstoppable. Just like me.”

His breath caresses your cheeks, lights a fire that now radiates through your whole body.

“I will stop you”, you breathe out.

“Oh please.”

His hands…You can’t believe your eyes, your instincts, your body. Suddenly you find yourself trapped inside his muscular arms, his face so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath ghosting against your cheek and neck. When was the last time a man touched you? Oh, way too long ago. His toned body pressed against yours reminds you way too painful. But still.

You shake your head ever so slightly, close your eyes against the sensation his touch promises. This isn’t just a random man, not the kind of bad guy like Geto or Choso. No, this is the king of curses himself, a frightful creature absolutely willing to kill you when he had enough of you. You are nothing but a toy to him, something he found useful and will throw away the second you don’t match his expectations. This man is evil, this man is the epitome of cruelty. This man…

Pushes you against the wall, his leg forced between both of yours while all you can think of are his parted lips. This has to be a dream… Or a nightmare?

“Fuck.”

You don’t know, mind clouded by nothing but his sheer presence. What if you just kissed him? Only once to discover how he tastes, to convince yourself that you hate him. Yes, maybe this is all you need to get rid of that ridiculous desire that builds up in your stomach, maybe this will make the pressure between your hips vanish into thin air. A small innocent kiss and you’ll search a way out of this cursed place, an innocent kiss to come back to your senses.

Like in slow motion you stretch out your hand, so ready to touch his cheek. Does he even feel human? What else should he feel like? You just need to stretch your fingertips a little further, your head moving a few more inches towards his lips. His lips, those inviting parted lips…

“I knew you want me.”

But you don’t reach him. The second you open your eyes, you get greeted by that satisfied grin you learned to hate in the matter of hours, his hand keeping your fingers trapped mid-air.

“Don’t worry, I will come back to this eventually. But right now, I have something important to do.”

It happens faster that you’re able to react. Before you even comprehend what is happening, the chains around your wrists come back to life, trap you against the wall like a fool.

“Asshole”, you spit into his face, thick anger rushing through your already heated veins.

Out of instinct you stretch out your hand, ready to hit him with your best shot.

Only to get stopped by him catching your hand mid-air.

Again.

“I’ll see you later, (y/n). Don’t cause trouble as long as I’m gone.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa @moodswing101 @unholiiness

[chimychoo]

HUGE TPOT 12 SPOILERS!

BUCKLE UP CHAT. CAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG THEORY!!!!!

Where do i begin?

So heres the thing, I watched TPOT 12 then took a shower right after. While taking said shower i took a moment to think about everything that went down. And thought of the wildest theory ever..

• XFHOV

LETS START FROM THE BEGINNING,

One and Three, right?

These two fellas have FINALLY appeared after 15 years! Why is that?

Here is the scene when X found out their value: 7!

Four, Seven, and X are celebrating and generally very happy. Who isnt happy?

Three and one.

Theyre clearly angered by this whole situation, but why? Who are they angry at?

Theres three possible options:

1. Seven. But that wouldnt make sense, huh? Basically every algebralien has SOME sort of grudge held against him, so its nothing new. Scratch that!

2. Four. Its possible, four has done alot of things. But thats not who im personally going to focus on. Well, partially at least.

That leaves one more person!

3. X. But why them?

"Theyre just a little silly dude, they did nothing wrong!" And youre right. Thats exactly why theyre a target.

• THREE AND ONE'S CAPYIVITY

Youre probably wondering, why am i focusing on X, and not four? Four is more of a suspect, after all.

Think about it this way,

Three is trapped in a prison inside of Four's school, so four put him there! (They are the only one with control over that place anyway.)

One is trapped inside of the moon. There isnt really any solid proof to prove my theory with this one, but she came out during TPOT. She clearly had the ability to escape and didnt seem tired out and/or surprised that she finally left her prison. One actually seems happy and collected, even going as far as "greeting everyone" once she's out. She chose to come out at this time, just like how she chose to mess with Two's show.

One also confirmed that shes an "old friend of Two's." If One is suddenly against Two after all the years of them knowing each other, Two clearly did something to her.

• MUTUAL CONNECTIONS

And youre STILL probably wondering, "Chim! You still didnt explain what X has to do with all of this!"

Four and Two hate eachother, this hatred being caused by Two when they stole more than HALF of the bfb cast.

(They seem to not be familiar with eachother when they "first" meet. Im not exactly sure why here HELP.)

But anyway!

Who does Four have a good friendship with? X!

Who does Two have a good friendship with? Also X!

X is what keeps them sane around eachother, the only main reason why they stick around.

If anything bad were to happen to X, Four and Two clearly have the power and ability to get back at whatever or WHOever caused this harm.

One and Three did something to X, and it resulted in Two and Four snapping.

• THREE'S PERSONALITY

Three has basically ZERO information on himself, we know nothing about the guy. But what we do know, is that hes agressive.

In the Number Playground Chronicles, we get an article that explains an event that takes place, Three being apart of it. The article reads:

(To reduce confusion, ill be adding the names for you guys to differenciate whos who.)

"(Five)Integer did not pick up the ball when dropped, and Three Integer, the person playing with him, became impatient. (Five)Integer was angry at (Three)Integer because, Three Integer could simply pick up the ball and throw it to (Five)Integer, and (Three)Integer and (Five)Integer could keep playing.

"FOAMING THREE INTEGER"

The horrible, tragic incident happened at 10:13 AM. Three Integer became Upset.

Three Integer at 10:16, Angry.

Three Integer at 10:31, Furious.

Three Integer at 10:24, and "Foaming."

Three Integer at 10:39, when he started to produce smoke.

(Five)Integer picked up the ball at 6:17 PM."

This event did truly happen, we can see the beginning of it play out in the first few seconds of XFOHV:

Three was so angry and REFUSED to even touch the ball. Five had to go pick it up themself HOURS after the incident.

Three also WILLINGLY closed the cell door after it was opened. He couldve escaped, yet he didnt. I have two possible reasons for this:

1. He's afraid of Four catching him, so he followed orders and stayed put.

2. Three's gone insane after a decade and a half of being all alone, to the point that he WANTS to stay inside.

• ONE'S MOTIVES

One seems like a friendly character, shes smiling in basically the ENTIRETY of her screentime, (minus the part when she conversed with Fanny.)

But something about her smile isnt right, its almost disturbing. The way she grins in the oddest situations,

She is seen with a list during the post-credits scene, with four names on it that are all crossed out, meaning they are "completed."

□ Bell.

□ Bomby.

□ Fanny.

□ Ice Cube.

Notice how all four of these contestants were in some sort of distress during that moment, and One helped them out! In exchange for a "favor."

1. She helped Bell escape elimination by removing her string (something that annoyed Bell constantly due to contestants activley climbing it.) And hiding her.

2. She helped Bomby escape elimination by hiding him.

3. She gave Fanny a new mouth, discarding the need to spend hours at a time searching for it in the ocean.

4. She gave Ice Cube a new pair of legs, allowing her to walk again.

What exactly does One need these favors for? Revenge against Two, of course!

● ONE AND TWO'S FRIENDSHIP

Theres a popular theory stating that Two was kicked out of the equation playground, this would clear up the confusion as to why they basically NEVER appear in the subscriber specials.

Maybe this is because Two hates math! They said it to Gaty in one of the episodes.

I also believe that One was also kicked out. Why, you may ask?

Take a look at this scene in the beginning of TPOT 11:

One's picture was hidden underneath Seven's. As if nobody(COUGH COUGH. Espcially four) wanted her to be mentioned so they simply hid her.

Maybe this is how One and Two became friends, two rejects.

● RANDOM THINGS THAT GET THEIR OWN SECTION CAUSE IDK WHERE ELSE TO PUT THEM

1. How the HELL did One get a mouth and... legs?

2. Judging by One's little room, she probably really likes space and astronomy, maybe thats way the moon was where she was sent.

3. Kinda freaky to think that One was there in the moon the ENTIRE time. Throughout every single episode of the series from BFDI 1A to TPOT9, and we never knew.

Yeah tbh idk what else to say this was just a little info dump cause my mind was PACKED. anyways yeah tell me if i missed anything anf let me know about your little theories and opinions on mine! :3

[plutoswritingplanet]

Unpunishable (Shang Tsung x F!Reader)

a/n: no one asked for this, but hey, i've been in love with that soul stealing stink-man, i had to finally write something for him. this one is specifically MK1 story mode adjacent, but i do want to write more (for MK11 and the movie), Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (kinda i guess), Captivity, playing fast and loose with the canon, Kinda Soft Shang?, Reader is a Blood Mage (nothing too serious tho)

Summary: After you and your friends raid Shang Tsung's laboratory, you get caught and kept captive by the Sorcerer himself.

Is it wrong to want more?

That was the thought plaguing you from the beginning of your training at the Wu-Shi temple. Blood magic was frowned upon in Outworld. For you to even cross the threshold of the realm, there had been some serious negotiations set in place. Still, the Fire God has managed to convince Empress Sindel of your assets as a healer.

And, you were a curious thing, after all. Humans were not born with magic in Earthrealm, it could only be bestowed by a God. Which is why your natural talent at commanding blood, both yours, and later someone else's, was a strange sight indeed. Strange enough to stir the interest of Outworld's nobility, granting you a safe passage to the tournament with your training companions.

Which is how you landed here. Between helping Raiden navigate the Tournament, through the secret mission on behalf of Liu Kang, and right up to now. As you sit, poised like a decorative doll, hands locked behind your back, intricate, golden cuffs digging into the skin of your wrists. There are piles upon piles of golden coins surrounding you, gold trickles down the walls in long smears of paint, golden dust stains your skin. A kink forms deep within your spine, from the uncomfortable position you have been put in.

And then, there's the deep, bleeding cut, stretching the expanse of your thigh. It was a stupid idea, tagging along for the mission to find Shang Tsung, and bring him to Liu Kang for questioning. You shouldn't have followed your friends into that one. Even more idiotic, was your short stand against Princess Mileena, as her Tarkat affliction took control of her. The fight, if you could even call it that, ended with you gaining a black eye and an awful, ugly cut, made by Princess's knives.

You shift in your position, trying to relieve some of the discomfort. Instead, the thick fabric of your pants slides on the wound, making you wince in pain. Flexing your fingers behind your back, you try to focus on the constant throbbing in your leg. If the traditional means of escape have been taken from you, perhaps a more finessed touch would be efficient.

Blood trickles on your skin, and every fiber of your being zeros in on the feeling. Sweat forms on your forehead, as you slowly force the stream to run upwards, towards your hip, and around your back. Your fingers flex into intricate positions, a thin line of your own blood reaches your wrist.

You have never tried this trick with your magic, all your life dedicating your gift to the art of healing. Dealing with the blood of other people, stopping, pushing, extracting, those were the things you were good at. Solidifying your own plasma, so it can cut through metal cuffs, was an entirely different topic.

But you have to escape. You have to. There's no telling what will happen to you, should you remain in this prison. Surrounded by gold and jewels, like some sort of perverted spoil of war. You valued yourself too much, to allow that. And, most importantly, your friends needed help. The intel you've gathered while being stuck in this wretched place wasn't much, but it was something, which in turn was enough to keep fighting.

Breathing becomes a hassle. You've already exerted far too much of your power, trying to extract from your bleeding thigh, and your hands shake behind your back, as you visualize particles sticking together, forming something solid, something that would free you of this prison. The liquid curling around your wrist shifts, an outer layer forming around it. All you've managed to achieve, is a sort of coagulated jelly, sticking to your skin.

"Your dedication to freedom in commandable." a familiar, male voice surrounds you, and you whip around, chain jingling at the sudden movement.

There he stands, in all his glory. Your captor.

Shang Tsung stalks towards you, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans down, hair flowing past his shoulders and obscuring the two of you from the world in a thick, black curtain. He smells rich. Sandalwood and jasmine, mixed with a nauseating undertone of blood and rot, no doubt, a leftover from his laboratory. It forces you to reel your head back, to try and escape it, but your efforts are quickly destroyed, as the sorcerer closes in further.

"Your skill, however…" his dark eyes fly around your face, taking in your distressed expression with a cruel smile "Well, let's just say there's some room for improvement."

Your eyebrows crease, as he flashes you a grin, before straightening up to his full height, allowing you a moment of relief from his overpowering presence. The bloody clot you've managed to form around your wrist falls to the floor as soon as you lose focus, and silently, you mourn the feeling of blood sinking between golden coins, never to be recovered again. You couldn't even if you tried, not with the Outworld's Snake right in front of you, circling your body like a hawk ready to strike.

Suddenly, he crouches down, right beside your abused leg, your breath catching in your lungs at the sudden change. The way he moved never seized to amaze you, as much as you hated to admit it. There was grace burned into his very being, every step a slithery dance. It terrified you, rightfully so, but underneath something new was brewing. A feeling, which you could easily dismiss during the rush of fighting, was no longer satisfied with staying dormant.

There was a strange pull between the two of you, like two magnets on the opposite sides of a table. Whenever your eyes met with the Sorcerer, you could feel something buried inside your soul start to wake. It felt so foreign, yet so very familiar at the same time, like a ghost of some ancient prophecy clawing at your mind.

Once you free yourself from this hellish predicament, you'll ask Liu Kang what is going on with you. He has to know, or at least, suspect something, and you knew very well, feelings like those could not be ignored. Too much was at stake, to keep secrets out of some misguided shame. That is, if you even make it out of here, because the man beside you suddenly pushes his robe outwards, producing a small box with a practiced flare, like a magician during one of his shows.

"Do not fret, Mortal" you're not sure if the "pet" name is a thinly veiled insult, or if it's just the way the Sorcerer speaks "This is simply something to heal your leg."

Now, your confusion must be palpable, because Shang Tsung's smile widens, as he takes in your face. Then, he laughs quietly to himself, barely above a whisper, and the hairs at the back of your neck stand straight at the sound.

"I don't want anything from you" it's a pathetic effort at staying defiant, and both of you know it.

Instead of entertaining your little outburst, the Sorcerer grabs your leg with his free hand. Immediately, you start to struggle, despite the sharp pain overtaking your senses, as his grip on you tightens. Then, you let out a sharp squeak, when the man's golden claws tear into the fabric of your pants just above the wound, and dangerously close to the apex of your thighs.

The wound looks back at you, swollen and bloody, and you swallow thickly, as blood flows from your face. You could treat it, successfully as well, if only your hands weren't currently bound behind your back, with very limited moving space. Shang Tsung opens the box with delicate fingers. There is some sort of salve packed inside, a rather large indent right in the middle proving it's been used quite extensively.

His hold on you becomes less of a grip, bordering almost on a soft caress, which brings an entire wave of concerning feelings to the surface of your mind. If he notices the way your cheeks flush, he says nothing, opting instead on dipping his fingers into the salve.

"This might hurt" he warns you, although there is not a single note of concern in his voice.

"What is that? Another Tarkat experiment?" you try to mask the shaking in your voice, as the thought of being experimented on genuinely frightens you.

Your leg twitches under his fingers, and he digs in deeper, turning to face you with an unexpected, serious expression. Again, you feel short of breath, as his dark eyes bear into yours with intensity you haven't yet experienced.

"I would never..." he cuts himself off.

The word, or rather, the tone in which he says it seems to startle you both. His eyebrows furrow in an expression of annoyance, or worry, you're not entirely sure, and he turns back towards your wound, his black hair shielding his face from your gaze. Was that repulsion, hidden within his voice? Your chest suddenly feels much too tight. Was the merciless Sorcerer disgusted by the prospect of conducting his inhumane experiments on you? You weren't sure if the sentiment warmed your heart… Or terrified you to the very core of your being.

Still, all your thoughts leave your brain, as soon as Shang Tsung places his fingers on your wound. At first, a cold feeling overtakes you, pain letting go for just a split second. Then, fire. White, hot, burning ache, seeping into your wound. It feels as if it reaches your bone marrow, and with a silent scream you fall on your back, writhing on the floor. Golden coins fly from under your feet, as you kick around, the golden chain tying your hands together strains, as you pull on it with all your might. Slowly, the pain fades, some sort of tight sensation pulling at the skin of your thigh.

And one more thing.

As you come down from the initial shock of the painful treatment, your brain registers something warm and firm, rubbing circles into your flesh. It takes you another while longer to realize it's Shang Tsung's hand, resting right above the wound, claws tapping on the inside of your leg. He watches you, as your breathing starts to slow, eyes following drops of sweat falling from your forehead and mingling with tears. Your lips parted, your eyelids flutter, and you let out a long sigh, finally being able to look down on your leg.

Where the wound once was, now, a long, pink scar shines in the light of the torches strung around the chamber. Shang Tsung closes the box, before hiding it amongst the many layers of his outfit. You half expect him to stand up and leave, but your hopes are squashed once again, as the man kneels down next to you, turning his attention towards your heaving chest.

His hand comes up, towards your face, claws shining gold. You wince and close your eyes, despite your best efforts to appear strong, but the pain you've anticipated doesn't come. Instead, you feel something sharp drag itself across your forehead. You risk cracking an eye at him, face scrunching, before relaxing into an expression of utter confusion.

There he was, your captor, tormentor, your enemy, brushing flyaway hairs from your sweaty forehead. Your eyes meet, and again, feelings swirl inside your gut, some you're too scared to decipher, and some need no explanation. His lips curl into something akin to a smirk, yet his eyes remain focused on you entirely, thoughts swimming behind his irises. Then, as if some magic spell has been broken, you can see him shift into his true self, the same scheming energy overflowing him, as if a new, frightful idea has formed inside his mind.

Once again, he reaches into the pockets of his robe, this time producing a deliciously red apple. Its skin is shiny, the potent smell makes your mouth water, and suddenly you remember you haven't eaten in Gods know how many hours. With a dark chuckle, the man turns the apple, from side to side, as if he wants you to take full stock of just how sinful it looks. Then, with a simple gesture, he tips it towards your lips. Your eyes snap up at him.

"I can't eat it with my hands tied" your voice sounds rough from all the pain you've experienced before.

"Nonsense, I shall feed you" he answers, as if this was the most obvious way out of your predicament, and the heat of embarrassment mixes with anger in your gut.

"You want me to eat out of your hand like some damned pet?"

Now, he laughs, fully. His eyes crinkle at the sides, as he inclines his head towards you.

"I know full-well you're too dangerous to let roam freely" your eyes flicker towards the apple, "And after all you've been through, aren't you hungry, Mortal?"

Your teeth grind against each other, as you weight your options. Shang Tsung moves the apple again in a tantalizing manner, and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes lock onto his, giving him the best performance of defiance you could muster, and slowly, you open your mouth.

"Good girl" he croons, and for a split second you ponder, if spitting at the man was worth the consequences.

He brings the apple closer, lets it rest on your bottom lip, before giving you a patronizingly inviting smile. Swallowing your pride, your teeth sink into the fruit, and you can't stop the absolutely shameful moan from slipping out of you, as the sweetness of the apple hits your tongue. Damned be precautions, damned be your dignity, you were hungry, and that apple was delicious. So you take a bite so large, it almost reaches the stem, letting some juice flow down your chin.

Shang Tsung watches you eat with a laser focus one might imagine he reserves for his experiments, teeth catching his bottom lip.

Another bite, this one silent on your part. His eyes follow the column of your throat, when you swallow. One more, and you give him a show of looking up at his darkened expression when your teeth all but tear away from the fruit.

Your hands are shaking behind your back, a coil is forming deep within you, and you press your legs tight together, to shield the rest of your dwindling dignity from completely being torn away. He notices. Of course, he does, as your actions seem to have a similar effect on him, if his bitten lips and heavy breaths are anything to go by.

"Why go through all this trouble, Sorcerer?" you ask, licking your lips from the remnants of your meal.

His eyes follow your tongue, before looking back right into your eyes. The rest of the apple is thrown somewhere amongst the golden piles of treasure, forgotten entirely. Time seems to slow down, air becomes thick between the two of you, surrounding you like a vat of tar. The pull you've been feeling since meeting this infamous monster becomes almost too strong to ignore.

Shang Tsung raises his hand, grabbing your chin and pushing it upwards. There is a myriad of emotions running rampant on his face, until it finally settles on something so dark and wanting, your stomach tightens at the mere sight. His lips come down upon yours in an avalanche, slipping towards your chin, where he provocatively licks at your skin, tasting the apple's juices and humming to himself.

Your voice comes out as a small whimper, entire body reacting to his kiss, as you fight between pushing him away and pulling him much closer. He decides for you, coming back to claim your lips again, as his hands start to travel up the sides of your stomach, gathering your shirt in the process.

His clawed gauntlets scratch at your skin, not enough to actually hurt you, but enough to elicit a wave of shudders from your body. Finally, he pulls away, considering your swollen lips and disheveled hair as one would their newest painting. Pride and mischief mix well in his black irises, and he licks his lips slowly, making you blush impossibly red.

"You look quite beautiful, like this" he croons, tangling his free hand in the hair at the back of your neck, "So pliant under my fingers."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, poised above you with his usual smirk gracing his features. Then a thought materializes in your head, a chance at finding an escape route, if you could play your cards right.

"Untie me" you moan wantonly, arching your neck, as if to give him better access.

He launches at your exposed pulse point immediately, licking a long stripe up, before giving your skin a few delicious nips, ones that make you almost forget your half-formed plan. Almost. Gathering all your resolve, you writhe against him. His clothes are hiding a lean, but well-muscled body, and you wish so hard, you could run your hands down his chest.

"Untie me, please" you don't recognize your voice, so broken and needy.

The Snake stops his ministrations, tugging at your hair, before sliding his hand towards your shoulders, where he grabs you and pulls you even closer, so your body is leaning almost completely on his lap. His other hand makes quick work of the zipper on your trousers and worms itself into your underwear. A wave of humilation hits you, as your pink, polka-dotted panties look at you from between the fly.

"I can't risk you getting away" he whispers in your ear and takes a long whiff of your hair, humming in pleasure, "My Benefactor has made it clear, you are crucial to their plan."

That startles you. Or it would, if the Sorcerer hadn't began to delicately rub his fingers over your lower lips, just shy of entering you. It's torture, a new brand of cruel experiment, you think, as you buck your hips against him, trying to get some sort of pressure

"I would've thought you wanted me for yourself" you pant between heated kisses you're leaving on the exposed skin of is neck, "It certainly - oh - seems so."

The hand which is currently not occupied sneaks around your middle, before grabbing a handful of your right breasts.

"Would you like that?" he asks into the crown of your head, his fingers finally dipping into your opening.

It takes you several tries to form an answer in your brain, and another few to vocalize it. His thumb makes quick work of finding your bundle of nerves, and instantly starts to abuse that newly-found knowledge. You bite your lip, hard, to stop any sounds from escaping you, but the Sorcerer wouldn't have it. His mouth finds yours, and he swallows your moans of pleasure with an approving hum reverberating through his chest,

"Would you like to be kept by me? Be mine and mine alone" his lips brush against yours as he talks, and you tug mercilessly on your binds, wanting to hold onto something, anything. Him.

"I-" you can't quite finish your sentence, because the hand that's been, for the most part, playing with your breast like it's a stress ball, begins to travel further down, until it rests on the lower part of your stomach. "No."

It comes out as choked and desperate, as his fingers curl upwards inside you, hitting a spot that nearly makes you fly off the ground. He laughs, right in your ear.

"No?"

"No" you swallow, "I'm- oh fuck... I'm too good for you."

Another deliberate motion of his fingers and your toes start to curl. He might be the key to undoing the entire universe, but hell, he does know how to use his fingers. Long and elegant fingers, trained by years spent on studying ad practicing spells, made dexterous by whatever horrors he has committed in his laboratories. Fingers, which are currently pumping in and out of you with a pace set specifically to drive you insane.

"Yes" he hisses through his teeth, pressing his nose to the crown of your head, "You are too good for me, aren't you? That's why you're here, taking my fingers like you were meant for it."

Gods, his voice really isn't helping you focus. By the feeling of something hard and rather large poking you in your thigh, you guess you're not the only one getting off on the sound of his voice. A coil starts to tighten deep within you, growing tighter with every movement of his fingers, every word coming out of his filthy mouth

"Even the Fire God couldn't keep you away from me" his thumb presses down onto your clit and begins to rub it in quick circles, "He was so scared to let you go into my lair, wasn't he?"

You nod absentmindedly, thrashing in the Sorcerer's lap, as a strong shiver of pleasure wrecks your body. Experimentally, you move your backside, rubbing against his growing erection, and the man hisses into your ear, his movements faltering for a split-second.

"He was right" Shang Tsung seethes the words into your skin, before coming down to bite on your shoulder, "We will be each other's undoing."

His palm presses flat on your lower stomach, as his efforts inside your pants increase tenfold. The coil is so close to breaking, you can feel tears start to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Ladies first, sweet thing" he hums, pressing your writhing body even closer to himself, "Come undone for me."

And you do, as if compelled by some ancient magic. Your face buries itself into his robes, teeth catching on the skin of the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. And you bite, hard enough to break his skin, taste his blood on your tongue. The coil shatters, and so does your grip on the world. You let out a muffled wail, the Sorcerer pulling you even closer, engulfing you entirely in his presence, his smell. Your legs are shaking, as Shang Tsung lets you ride out your orgasm on his nimble fingers, and soon, your body becomes boneless.

He doesn't let you go for a while longer, still pressed to your body, swaying with you in some sort of perversion of intimacy. Or perhaps, as much as the thought terrifies you, there is some link building between the two of you. Something more than lust and curiosity. Then, his hand leaves your pants, coming up out of your field of vision. You catch a glimpse of his soaked fingers, and your imagination fills in, what might be happening just above your head, as an obscenely wet sound of sucking reaches your ears.

Then, like the gentleman he is, he helps you button your pants back up, straightens your shirt and ties your hair more neatly. You want to kiss him again. There is another need brewing inside you, as you watch him stand up and dust his clothes, which are now stained with gold dust in places.

Is it wrong to want more?

You want to reach up, brush your fingers through his hair, kiss him until he can't speak clearly. You wants to feel his breath quicken again, feel his pulse run wild. You want to drain his blood and feed on his power until there's nothing left.That last thought freezes you in your spot, cold shivers climbing up your body like a dead hand gripping you from beneath the earth.

Too dark, too power-hungry, and you were none of those things. You never will be.

"Beautiful" he murmurs again, watching you from above, but this moment of sentiment is cut shortly, as his head snaps towards the entrance to the chamber, expression souring instantly

Your eyes follow his, but there's nothing you can see in the darkness. A chill runs up your spine.

"Get ready, Mortal" oh, so we're back to thinly veiled insults, "My Benefactor will want to meet you soon."

With that, he turns to leave, not sparing you a second glance, and you're back to being alone. Used and left between the piles upon piles of gold surrounding you, like your part of this chamber. A pretty thing, stained gold, made to exist only when it's owner is looking at it.

You need to get out of here, before you lose your mind.

[the-kr8tor]

Bloodbath

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Your vampire roommate accidentally gets drunk off of blood.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, vampire hunter! Reader, wwdits au, mockumentary trope, vampire au, set in the pursuit of blood au, cw blood, cw injury, cw suggestive, fluff.

In Pursuit of Blood Masterlist

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Octobie 🎸

A request from @al1x00 — May I have garlic cloves in a heart shaped bottle please? IPOB!Hobie accidentally drinking the blood of a drunk person and now R has to deal with an incoherent tipsy vampire.(Make sure you get some proper rest and drink lots of water! Ly😽❤) --- i could not pass this one up for the halloween theme it's literally so perfect! Thank you for requesting, angel!!!

“Hobie, no!” You yell just as when he's about to lunge at a poor runner, who's unfortunate enough to jog at night, who just happens to run past you and your very drunk vampire roommate in his enormously large bat form.

The camera pans towards the yelling, lenses zooming in, spotlights shining brightly on the man in the shortest running shorts known to mankind and his entire body floating five feet off the ground as Hobie's claws latch onto his shirt. His screams echo around the park, and Hobie's bat shrieks sound above it like an endless click of a ballpoint pen.

You glance at the camera with your wide desperate eyes, mouth agape and hand pointing at the situation. “Put. Him. Down!” Yelling, you jump up, trying to grab hold of the stranger's trainers. “You've had enough blood!”

The scene shifts to you looking disheveled, hair messed up with your cheek having an unmistakable claw scratch while you hoarsely talk to the camera crew.

“Motherfucker drunk from an incredibly inebriated CEO of a shady tech company.” You explain bluntly.

The lens zooms out of your exasperated face, camera showing you hugging the large shrieking bat in your arms with your jean jacket wrapped around his flailing form whilst he tries and fails to bite and scratch you. “I tried to warn him that the fucker had every drug and cocktail flowing in his veins. But noooo, no one ever fucking listens to me!” You shake him in your arms, making the annoyed and adrenaline filled bat yell in his high pitched shriek.

Hobie's face escapes his denim prison, long ears fluttering in the breeze and fangs in full display as he tries to take a chunk out of you. You manage to dodge his attacks, face turning as far away as you could.

With a crunch of leaves underfoot, the cameraman backs away when you accidentally shove your face in the lens. Panting, the man behind the camera makes sure to keep his distance away from you and the angry bat as it zeroes in on the bleeding corpse right behind you. The body's foot twitches, and the producer takes that as a sign to anonymously call an ambulance.

“Fuck!” You stomp your foot down, and the thousand year old vampire stops his twisting and turning to look up at you with his big red button eyes. Hobie makes a sound akin to a chirp, fangs sticking out from his lip. “We're going home, Hobie.”

He trills in your arms, fuzzy head nudging your chest. You can feel how incredibly warm he is under the denim jacket, a sure fire way to tell that he is still under the influence of…everything.

“Don't flash those pretty eyes at me, you little shit.” You start to walk towards his street, hugging him tight against your chest like a chihuahua gone wild. He sneers, and you realize that he's taking a peek into your head and he did not like that thought one bit. “Get out of your head!” You squeeze him in your arms.

Smirking, you flash an image into your mind of him wearing a fancy three piece suit with a look of sheer egotistical pleasure while counting wads of dirty money. He shouts gutturally, now regretting the little peep inside your mind. The sound makes a few passers by look at you weirdly. The entire camera crew following you around doesn't help. “It's a toy, mind your fucking business.” You say to one of them, making them walk faster away from you.

Sighing, you finally see the dark gothic house around the corner. Its spires just screams ‘there’s a vampire living here!’ and its stained glass windows, circular topiaries, and wrap around porch says that the person living inside wasn't born in the same century as anyone else living in the same street. You still have no idea how no one has noticed their thousand year old neighbor. You love the place though, it's home and you wouldn't have it any other way. Even though the pipes need to be replaced with ones that don't give you some type of rusted water related disease whenever you take a drink from the faucet.

Your trainers stomp on the porch, juggling in between carrying Hobat and getting your keys from your pockets. He tries to escape your hold, head wiggling out of the denim burrito you wrapped him in. You can feel his toes wiggling on your stomach. “Don't you dare, Hobart.” With a stern tone, he falls limp, chirping, sounding like a whine. “Don't be cute with me,” you struggle to find the right key in your carabiner. “we're almost there.” You say much softer this time when the door unlocks.

The second you open the door, Hobie wiggles out and then flies off into the house. He zigzags, making questionable turns as he flies under the influence with his large wings flapping about and accidentally swatting away hundred year old vases and furniture.

“I'll let him empty his energy before I try to sober him up.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, arms crossed as you watch him fly around with endearment. He looks and sounds adorable just squeaking and flying about.

Closing the door, the crew stands just behind you, capturing the perfect moment when Hobie, again, a thousand year old vampire with abilities beyond human comprehension and years of forgotten knowledge from fallen civilizations inside his mind, flies into the far end of the hall. Crashing into the mauve wallpaper, leaving a Hobat shaped mark of dried blood from his unfortunate victims.

His claws try to keep him on the wall but his bat body has run out of steam. He slides down the wall, claw marks dragging down and scratching the wallpaper.

You briskly walk towards him, concerned, you walk a bit slower to feign nonchalance in front of the camera. Once you make it to him, you bend at the waist to look down at his stretched out form. His wings are unfurled, belly up, and ears perked as he sees you in his vision.

“You done now, Hobie?”

With a puff of black smoke, he returns to his form. His legs are sticking up and folded against the wall, arms stretched out next to him with his lopsided grin thrown at you.

“‘ello, lovie.” He chuckles, or giggles more like, as he makes grabby hands up at you. “What am I doin' on the floor? We havin’ our fun time on the floor now?”

The camera crew looks at each other with furrowed brows and questions swirling in their heads. You spare them a look of embarrassment that quickly morphs into fake ignorance.

“Not today,” you say gently, his red eyes sparkling in the yellow light of the hallway. You always wonder why he chose yellow bulbs in some parts of the house including his room. You have a feeling it's because it reminds him of the unobtainable warmth of the sun. “You need your coffin.”

“Will you join me?” He asks, fingers flexing about as he beckons you over. You indulge him, leaning down to let him grasp at your jaw. Surprisingly, he holds you carefully like you're the most valuable thing in the house instead of all the artifacts he gathered throughout the centuries just laying about the home.

“You need to sober up, and you can't do that when I'm hogging all the space in the coffin.”

“That's why I keep tellin' you that we should get a bigger coffin that can fit the both of us together.” He brushes his thumb across your cold bitten lips. Gasping like he got a brilliant idea, he pats each of your cheek, squishing it in his hands, careful not to scratch you with his sharp nails. “We should buy one tomorrow!”

You chuckle, hands reaching up to bracelet your fingers around his wrists, grabbing them to make him unlatch himself off of you. “Okay, sleep first then we'll go out to look for one.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. “Really?”

You subtly (or think that it's subtle enough) kiss his pulse point where you would feel his heartbeat if his heart still beats against his chest. “Really, we'll get a red velvet lined one.”

“How about a coffin with a telly in it so you could watch your shows?”

You smile, “I'd like that. For now, shower first because you smell like the floor of a pub.”

“Still fit though, hm?” Hobie winks, but with his drunkenness, he looks like he's spasming. It earns a guffaw from you, finding it adorable.

“Very handsome, my—” you glance sideways at the camera still recording, you've forgotten about them for a second. Clearing your throat, you help him up on his feet. “Let's go before I puke.” Playing it cool, you still look like your pants fell down to your feet.

Even drunk off his mind, Hobie sees through it, arms snaking along your middle, putting a show in front of the camera by shoving his face into the crook of your neck. Not biting, just smiling against your flushed skin. You can feel his fangs poking and prodding at you playfully.

You curse silently, holding him properly and hiding your flustered expression from the camera as you turn your back from the crew.

—

Locking the bathroom door, you made sure that the camera crew had enough tea and biscuits in the dining room before walking upstairs to check on Hobie. The crews’ chatter echoing from the vents prove that they're well occupied and distracted. Turning around, you face Hobie with a soft smile as he lounges in the bubbly bathtub that smells like Halloween incarnate.

“How's the water?” You ask, closing the distance and sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet to look at him fondly.

Hobie places his cheek on top of the edge of the black bathtub, cheek squished on the porcelain. “Just right, love.” He smiles as steam rises from the water, condensation rising up to the forest coloured tiles, “and the children?”

“Occupied with my expensive biscuits from my godmother.” You place your chin on your palm, eyes flicking from his wet face down to his shimmering torso. “You seem to be having fun with my bath bomb.”

He chuckles, fangs peeking out from his lips. A sign that he's extremely happy, you know it well. “It's red!” With a handful of bath water, he pours it from above to show you its crimson hue. “You're such a big fan of me aren't you? Mimickin’ a fraction of my power.”

“You bathe in a tub full of blood? I don't remember you ever doing that, Hobart.” With a roll of your eyes, you stand up only to sit back down next to the tub. Sitting cross-legged, you place your arms on the cool edge of the porcelain, eyes staring up at Hobie with pure affection while your index finger swirls patterns in the glittery red water. “Sounds like a great bath though.”

“Says the vampire hunter.” He dabs a droplet of water onto the tip of your nose, watching it slowly drip down into the tub. “Stop it with the bloody Hobart, thought we got past that months ago.” He seems completely sober by now, the blood juice box (that may or may not have come from your veins) helped a lot in flushing his system. You always kept them fresh in his freezer next to your orange popsicles.

“Whatever you say, Hobat.” You wink, feeling relaxed with the warmth from the water and the cinnamon pumpkin smell.

Hobie smiles softly instead of scoffing like you thought he would. A single fang peeks out from under his lip, reminding you of an adorable cat. He reaches for your hand closest to him, and then slowly, he puts his head atop your hand, nuzzling close to you. Thumb brushing along your scratch mark on your cheek, he looks apologetic while he heals it with his touch alone. Literally, it's nonexistent now that he poured a fraction of his power atop your warm skin.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “Just curious, can you turn into a cat?”

“Is that not in any of your tomes?” He raises a brow, red eyes hazy from the hot water and tender affection from you.

You shrug, laying your head down on your arm so that you're facing him adjacently. “I remember reading that it's a rare ability.”

“Yeah?” His eyes soften, leaning ever closer to you. You can feel his cold touch amidst the warmth of the water as his lips gently caress your jaw. From the tip of your jawline down to your chin, he kisses you with so much affection that your breath hitches in your throat and nothing in your mind remains but his lips upon your own. “Tell you what,” he says against your waiting lips. “I'll tell you in exchange for a proper kiss.” He didn't need to open his mouth to say those words to you, you can hear his deep voice in your mind. Whispering those words only for you.

“Deal,” you reply in your mind, and he grins, showing you his fangs that have never scared you. Sharp ends that have always been gentle against your soft skin, fangs that were meant to leave you bone dry, but he never does. Only leaving you woozy on your feet, happy that you've helped him, content in the arms of someone you were meant to kill— taught to kill. You're glad you didn't that day, that day you got close with your wooden stake mere inches away from his heart that you now adore.

He kisses you, and you don't mind the copper taste anymore as the kiss gets sweeter than ambrosia and as saccharine as nectar whilst he pulls you into the tub with him.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

[woodenplank-gt]

Definitely Not A Mouse

Thank you so much for all the love on the previous part!

Previous: A Not So Average Night

Next: Witness To A Crime

—————

Tucker bit back a yelp of terror as the world seemed to bottom out. He tumbled into the bottom of the bag alongside the chips, his small weight slightly crushing them. He found himself partially buried under the yellow salt-coated food, thankfully it was nowhere near heavy enough to crush the borrower.

Gravity forced him down as the bag shot high into the sky, the rapid motion causing bile to rise in Tucker's throat. He was jerked this way and that, slamming into the aluminum walls along with the chips as the human's thudding footsteps carried him away. A few moments later, a door slammed shut and the movement abruptly stopped.

The only thing Tucker could hear was his own hyperventilating breaths. The bag crinkled above him and a yellow light quickly filled the darkness. He threw up a hand at the sudden onslaught of light but it left as quickly as it came, covered by a giant green eye. Tucker balked further under the chips as the eye immediately zeroed in on him. The human gasped and Tucker was pitched forwards as the bag lurched away from the human's face.

"This....what...." A shocked voice rumbled outside the bag. There was an uncomfortably long moment of silence that filled Tucker with terror. He scrambled to get his feet under him but the tangle of chips effectively kept him stuck in place. Chips cracked underneath him as Tucker strained to get some control over his situation. His hand tightened on his weapon. If he could just reach a wall then he can easily cut his way out before Shawn got any ideas....

"Seriously Shawn?" Gus complained angrily, slamming another door shut. "How are we supposed to prove it wasn't the husband? You heard what Lassiter said!"

When Shawn failed to respond, Gus glanced over to his passenger. He gasped, "Shawn!" His friend has done ridiculous things in the past for the sake of solving a case, but this was on a whole new level. "Did you seriously take food from their house! Are you insane?"

Shawn finally pried his eyes away from the bag to look at Gus with wide eyes. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, something that rarely happened to the man.

Gus narrowed his eyes, "I'm not moving this car 'til you tell me what's going on with you." His voice was low and stern. It was clear he was not exaggerating.

"This is evidence for the case. At least I think it is...." He uneasily looked between Gus and the bag. Shawn could feel the slight shifts of whatever was stuck in there, solidifying the fact that this was real. Of course he knew something was in there when he snagged the bag, but he was expecting a rodent or a bug or anything that didn't resemble a tiny human. He ran a hand through his brown hair. "Let's just go back to the office and figure out what's going on." He finally decided.

His friend still didn't move the car, instead he was now criticality eyeing the chip bag as if he could see what's inside. Gus sighed, "Is there anything in there that's creepy, crawly, and has a bunch of legs?" He asked.

"No." Shawn answered aloud, inwardly hoping he got a good enough look.

"Alright then. But if we go to prison for tampering with evidence, I am testifying against you." Gus warned before turning the car on and beginning the short drive back to the office.

Inside the bag, Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine and toppled over as they began to drive. He landed in between a gap in the chips sinking even deeper into the bag. The conversation overhead confirmed his fears that things will only get worse from this point on once they arrived at the humans destination. Tucker had to escape before they had a chance to examine him.

He squirmed to free himself so he can cut a hole through the thin aluminum wall, but the chips proved more cumbersome than he initially thought. Each movement made it harder for him to free himself, and the car's sharp turns didn't help at all. It was like being stuck in a deep ball pit where any action to get out only made things more difficult.

It was all too soon when the engine went silent and the bag jerked again as the humans climbed out of the car. The bag shook violently each time Shawn took a step, ruining what little progress Tucker made towards freedom. Outside of his prison he heard some keys jingle and another door opening and closing. They arrived at their destination. Tucker's heartbeat roared in his ears and he renewed his struggles to get out.

Shawn walked over to his desk in the shared office space. Gus curiously watched as he pushed aside all the clutter on his desk while clutching the chip bag to his chest. He knew he must have noticed a small detail that no one else could hope to see. Shawn's keen eyes is what made him such an effective detective, no matter how annoying his process can get. But Gus failed to see how a bag of chips can be important to the case, especially in a way that made Shawn so uncharacteristically nervous.

Finally Shawn turned towards him. "Listen. I have no idea what's going on here, but promise not to freak out."

The seriousness in his friend's voice sent a jolt of worry through Gus. He warily eyed the innocent looking bag one more time before nodding in agreement, "You have my word," he swore quietly.

Tucker paid no mind to the rumbling conversation overhead. He had just freed his weapon when the bag suddenly flipped, tilting into a menacing slope. He cried out as he began sliding towards the bag's opening. Tucker's free hand desperately reached out for anything that could stop his descent, but only grasped air. His boots harmlessly dug into the sleek material underneath him as chips nearly as big as him pushed him towards the light. Tucker ungracefully tumbled onto the hard desk among the chips and crumbs, landing on his stomach.

"Wha- is this for real?" A voice boomed above him.

He whirled around in a panic. Frantic eyes landing on not one but two looming giants. His instincts screamed at him to run but Tucker's body was paralyzed as their gazes pierced right through him. All he could do was stare at the humans while his brain seemed to short circuit while coming up with a plan.

"Is this real!" Gus repeated as he stared at the impossibly tiny figure. He hesitatingly took a step towards the desk.

This kicked Tucker into action. He jumped to his feet and began sprinting across the desk to the other side. If he could get over there then there was still a chance for him to escape. The air shook from the humans surprised yells but he pressed on. Shadows covered the table in darkness as both Shawn and Gus stepped closer to the desk. Tucker held the nail tightly as he ran on, more than prepared to use it when the human grabbed for him.

He stumbled as their heavy footfalls shook the surface but his eyes stayed locked onto the far edge of the desk. He was so close! His lungs felt like they were on fire and his bag thumped against his side as he poured all his power into his legs. Tucker jumped over a pencil and unlatched his hook from his satchel. His hand stretched out, ready to lodge his hook into the desk and jump down. He still had a chance.

All too suddenly, Tucker collided with something hard. He fell onto his back from the momentum losing his hold on his hook, his mind spinning as he tried to figure out what just happened. The wall he hit curled around him and effortlessly lifted him off the ground. Tucker's brown eyes widened in panic as fingers longer than he was tall restrained him into a fist.

He struggled against the fingers. He pushed and shoved and kicked, but the fingers didn't budge one centimeter. Tucker was too weak to make any sort of impact. Vertigo all but slammed into him as the hand rose up into the sky. Tucker temporarily seized all struggles and squeezed his eyes shut to focus on keeping the dizziness away.

"You are real..." A low rumble shook him to the core. Hot breath washed over Tucker and his body started trembling uncontrollably. He forced himself to peek an eye open and immediately flinched back. The human held him mere inches away from his face. Green eyes bigger than Tucker's head scrutinized him closely.

Tucker resumed his struggles but his limbs remained effortlessly pinned down. His bag dug painfully against his side. His hand still gripped his weapon with a solid hold, If he could just free his arm then he could make this human regret ever touching him.

"Dude are you seeing this!" The human exclaimed as he held out the squirming figure to his friend. “It looks like a tiny action figure!”

Tucker's breath escaped him as the voice vibrated his entire body. It served as a clear reminder of how much danger he's in. He's up against beings so powerful even a voice can overwhelm him. His heart rammed against his ribs and no matter how hard he tried, Tucker couldn't catch his breath. He wasn't sure if it his sheer panic or the fingers squeezing him that caused it. He didn't know what to do. He was completely helpless. He was only ever taught how to avoid getting caught, not what to do if he got captured. If he could do anything at all.

Especially against a psychic. He didn't know what that even was, but it's clear the human had strange abilities. Tucker hung his head as he took in another shaky breath. Will the psychic read his mind and find out about borrowers? He will fail his kind whether he spoke or not.

"I think you're holding it too tight." Gus observed with eyes still full of shock. 

The hand shifted again so Shawn could see Tucker's face. "Oh, oops," he murmured as he began loosening his fist. "There, that should be better."

Tucker immediately pulled an arm out of the fist and squirmed to try and free the hand holding the nail. But to his horror, two enormous fingers immediately came into view, dwarfing Tucker in their shadow. A finger and thumb lightly pinched his exposed arm, holding it out for inspection. Tucker froze, fearfully watching the fingers holding his arm.

The fingers shifted to reveal the tiny hand resting on a fingertip. Shawn's eyes widened, "Whoa," he whispered breathlessly. Even with the minuscule fingers stretched out, the tiny hand could barely cover the tip of his finger. It was unreal.

Tucker was shocked by the comparison as well, although it left him more frightened than fascinated. He was so small next to a finger. A freaking finger! It took everything in him not to try pulling his arm back as the fingers continued to hold it out at an uncomfortable angle. His bones were thin enough to snap from one tiny shift made by the human. He was at Shawn's complete mercy.

"Look at this! This is insane!" He exclaimed excitedly, unknowingly hurting Tucker's sensitive ears. Gus stepped closer to gawk at the insane size difference, putting Tucker in between two enormous humans. After a few excruciatingly long moments, Shawn seemed to lose interest in the tiny limb and let Tucker protectively pull it back towards himself.

"This is the craziest thing to ever happen. Ever." Gus stated as he unbashedly stared at Tucker. He leaned in closer, his brown eyes locking onto the leather strap on Tucker's shoulder. "I think it even has a little bag!" The giant face lit up with excitement.

"Wait really? You're kidding!" Shawn's fingers opened while his other hand came swooping in towards Tucker. Before he could even act, large fingers pinched the bag and began tugging it off him. He quickly clutched the strap with his left hand while keeping a firm grip on his nail with his right.

Tucker dug his boots into the thick skin of the human's palm as he played tug-of-war with fingers larger than him. It wasn't much of a match. The satchel was easily pulled off his shoulders and was lifted up into the air, but Tucker's unrelenting grip on the bag left him dangling from the strap. He didn't care. That bag was one of Tucker's most important possessions and he would be damned if he let a clumsy human get it without a fight.

"C'mon little guy, just let go." The human coaxed. A hand rose up underneath Tucker to serve as a safety net before Shawn shook the bag. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as he was swung this way and that, but thanks to all his years of climbing, Tucker still had an iron-grip on the strap. The hand underneath him lifted closer to his feet and he quickly tucked his legs up, doing everything he can to stay out of the human hand.

Eventually the hand was only a few inches underneath him, expectantly waiting for Tucker to drop down so it can squeeze him to death. Instead, he pulled himself up and looped a leg through the leather strap. His brown eyes were locked onto the fingers pinching his bag and his hand tightened around his nail.

Both Shawn and Gus exchanged uneasy glances as the little creature refused to let go of the bag. Shawn was not expecting it to be that attached to the object, and he was even more surprised when the little thing ended up dangling in the air. As much as Shawn wanted to pluck it off the strap, he didn't want to risk squeezing it too tightly again. Something that small could be killed with a simple flick of his fingers. So, he opted to be patient for once and wait for it to get tired and drop to his awaiting palm.

Of course it wasn't that easy as the little thing actually climbed up the bag. Shawn smiled as he watched it, reminding him of a tiny little ninja. It's kinda adorable.

Of course, the humans couldn't see when Tucker's gaze hardened and his body tense in preparation. In one smooth motion, he lifted his body just high enough from the strap and sliced deep into Shawn's finger above. The hand reflexively snapped opened and a loud, pained shout shook the air. Tucker gasped as he started to plummet to the floor far below him along with his bag. Surprisingly, he welcomed this free fall. He got out the human's grasp. That's all that mattered.

Of course, this brief moment of peace was ruined as he hit a surface that was far too close and leathery to be the floor. Tucker didn't even have a chance to catch his breath from the impact before a hand cupped over him, trapping him between two walls of flesh.

"Shawn! You okay?" Gus asked as Shawn plucked the nail out of his finger.

"No, that actually hurt." He complained, "I'll probably need a tetanus shot after this." Shawn grumbled. He watched as blood slowly pooled out of the cut before placing a tissue over it to stop the bleeding. He nodded towards Gus' cupped hands, "At least your catching skills are improving." He added gratefully.

Gus glanced down at his hands. He cringed as he felt the creature's slight weight moving around in there. He hated that feeling, especially knowing it was an unknown creature that resembled a human. At what felt like tiny pokes against his skin, Gus belatedly realized the danger he was now in.

He quickly thrust his hands back towards Shawn. "Take it back." He demanded.

He flinched away before Gus could deposit the creature back into his hands. "What? No! I don't wanna get stabbed again!" He argued.

"Well I don't wanna get stabbed either!" Gus shot back.

A smug smile briefly appeared on Tucker lips as he kicked and shoved at the borrower-sized fingers surrounding him. Even if his escape failed, he was glad he scared the giants a little bit. At this point he'll take any victory he could get. Hopefully they learned their lesson not to manhandle him so carelessly.

But the more he kicked and pushed to no avail, the more helpless he felt. A lump caught in his throat at the realization of how weak he is. Tucker never thought of himself that way before. He has gained muscles from his daily climbs around the house and has even killed giant rats in battle. Compared to a human, however, he’s weaker than a baby.

His prison continued to vibrate as the humans spoke loudly. "What do I do with it!" Gus asked sounding just as panicked as Tucker felt.

"Just-uh-put it on the desk!" The words barely left Shawn's mouth before Gus dumped Tucker back onto the desk. He grimaced as he landed painfully on his shoulder but that didn't stop his adrenaline filled body from shooting back onto his feet. His eyes frantically scanned his surroundings for an escape. The ground shook as both humans got down on their knees to be more level with the borrower, although they still loomed menacingly over him.

He warily eyed the giants as he waited for their next move. After the stunt he just pulled, Tucker was in for a cruel punishment. That's how humans work after all. If you fight back against their control and power, they will just crush your spirit until you're nothing but an obedient pet. Tucker will never let that happen, even if it kills him.

Gus leaned forward, "So.... What exactly are we gonna do with it?" He picked up a pencil and gently poked the little thing's side, watching as it reeled back. Gus still couldn't believe it was real.

Meanwhile, Shawn was busy gathering up the objects the creature was carrying: a fishhook and string left on the desk, the nail, and the tiny bag now lying on the floor. Personal belongings say a lot about a person and he figured the same would apply to the little guy.

His green eyes narrowed as he quickly examined each object. The string on the fishhook was long enough to reach most surfaces like tables and counters. Shawn vaguely remembered the creature carrying it on its bag when they first put it on the desk. It's definitely used as a means for the little guy to get around. The stinging cut on his finger made the nail's use pretty obvious, but the bag was another story. Shawn could hardly believe the craftsmanship of the satchel. He would assume it came from a doll house if it wasn't made out of real leather with noticeable wear and tear from years of use. The bag even had a little clip holding the flap down, something even the most steady human hand couldn't accomplish.

He left the objects on the far side of the desk and glanced up to examine the little guy's clothes. By all means they looked like clothes he would find in a store. It wore all black and dark grays, colors that let it blend seamlessly into the shadows. The stitching was far too intricate to be made by human hands. The brown boots looked to be made of the same leather material as the satchel.

Shawn's eyes narrowed even more as he noticed what looked to be specks of saw dust on the dark fabric. Interesting.

The more details he noticed, the more his stomach twisted with guilt. As much as he wanted to, Shawn knew he couldn't ignore the evidence that was quickly stacking up. The tiny man is an intelligent being. And they just took him from his home and possibly his loved ones.

Shawn blinked and looked at Gus, who was staring at him with a quirked brow. The tiny person was still standing on the desk with wide eyes burning holes into the humans.

"Let's talk about that somewhere else," He said, finally answering his friend's question. Shawn got up to his feet and walked over to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets until he found what he was looking for. Shawn hid it behind his back to avoid scaring the little guy into running away. He quickly made his way back to the desk before placing a glass cup over the man. He briefly watched as he held his hands against the glass, glancing nervously between the humans.

Shawn told himself he wouldn't be in there long, but that didn't stop the guilt from rising even higher.

Gus frowned at the method used to keep the little guy there, "This better be quick." He said quietly as he walked into the office lobby. Shawn followed closely behind and shut the door once they were alone.

"I think that little guy is intelligent." Shawn blurted immediately.

Gus crossed his arms over his chest, "How so?" He asked, tilting his head.

"The fishhook is used for transportation, the nail is obviously a weapon, and his satchel is way too advance for an animal or bug to create."

His friend nodded along the more he spoke. "The clothes too. They look like they could only be made by tiny hands." Gus added, looking more and more upset. "It -he- really is a person."

Shawn sighed and rubbed his temple, "And we just kidnapped him and manhandled him."

Gus pointed a finger at him, "There's no 'we,' that was all you."

"That's not helping me feel any better Gus!" Shawn groaned into his hands. "I thought it was a mouse and I was just gonna chase you around with it for a bit." He admitted blatantly.

"You would be doing this case by yourself if you pulled that off." Gus placed his hands on his hips.

"Relax, I would have only chased you for like three minutes." He paused for a moment, "Maybe four. Anyways that's not important," Shawn waved off Gus' annoyed glare, "We need to figure out what to do with the little guy."

Gus paced around the small lobby in thought. "Well if he's intelligent, then he must speak some sort of language." He reasoned. "If it's English, then we will simply ask him who murdered Kirstin and let him go on his way."

"Go where?" Shawn gestured wildly with his hands, "That house is a crime scene. It can't be safe for him. Especially with Carlton investigating the area.”

Gus stopped his pacing in front of the door to their workspace. "We do this one step at a time. Let's focus on communicating with him first."

Shawn nodded, “Alright, let’s get this guy talking.”

Gus held an arm out, blocking Shawn from walking through the door. “I’ll do the talking, you just focus on not scaring him further.”

He frowned, “Fine.” Shawn reluctantly agreed.

[starcurtain]

I guess it's because his Warp is called 'gilded imprisonment', and the phonecall with Jade where he says 'I don't wanna bet anything just to escape your clutches'.

Kinda makes him a foil to Robin and warped parallel to Sunday in a way I think if you see him as thinking of his job as a gilded cage. It may not really be true, maybe he can walk away anytime he wants I'm sure he has the power and ability to even if hed be up for silencing if he left the Stonehearts, but he has nowhere else to go so he may just be trapping himself there with his own apathy. Hope that made sense lol

Always enjoy reading your thoughts ty for the food 🙏

(Will answer the part about the character foils in a different post because that is a whole long thing of its own!!)

See, I definitely think this is the issue, because I have had people say that exact thing to me "Well his warp is called gilded imprisonment so that has to be referring to the IPC!" Like... Do people think the IPC has a monopoly on the word "gilded" or something? Or that "gilded" can only refer to literal gold coins and not any of the many, many metaphors for being a prisoner to destiny that are swirling around Aventurine?

"To gild" means to "cover thinly with gold." It doesn't mean to create wealth, to imply actual money, or even to relate at all to the concept of "golden handcuffs" (which is what people seem to be mistaking it for). Gilding could more accurately be described as a process of taking something cheap--like low-quality nickel--and plating it over with the thinnest layer of gold, to try to make the item seem much better than it is. Gilding something is often like dressing up a pig--you can make it look pretty on the outside, but on the inside, it's still a pig.

Just the thinnest layer of gold over a darker interior...

There's nothing about "gilded imprisonment" that automatically has anything to do with the IPC, unless you're already coming in with the impression that Aventurine is a prisoner of the IPC. If you start with a preconceived notion of what "imprisonment" means for Aventurine, then and only then do we make the jump to "Oh, this must be in reference to the IPC." Take that preconception out and there's zero connection lol.

Even the Chinese name of the warp, "囚石铸金" (lit. "Prison stones cast [in] gold") and other languages' translation of the banner name (like German's "Stein zu Gold," lit. "Stone to gold") imply that the most important element of the banner is "coating over something bad with something good"--i.e., turning prison walls into gold, turning the "stone" of his dark past into something shining. (This actually makes a nice irony in several languages, because he turned the rocky desert of his homeland and the stone walls of a prison into gold by... earning a Cornerstone and becoming a "Stoneheart"--or, that is, he himself is a "worthless" stone that has been thinly coated over in shiny wealth.)

But personally, if we really want to go by the English name of the banner, I would argue that it is much more likely Aventurine's banner name is a reference to his own troubled relationship with the concept of "blessings" and "destiny" than anything to do with the IPC.

From the beginning of his life, Kakavasha was told he was "blessed" and that he was the "chosen one." He was favored by a goddess, born on the day of her rebirth, and told that he will be the savior of his people. So, we can literally say he's the Avgin "golden child," which is further supported by the constant connection between Aventurine and gold colors (his golden-haired appearance, his mother's gold accessories with him since his birth, the word "Avgin" itself even meaning [golden] honey). So as the "golden child," we have this perception that his power of incredible luck, gifted to him by a goddess, must be a blessing, a good thing.

And yet that's not how it plays out for him. What his family tells him is a blessing ends up functioning more like a curse for Aventurine, when it becomes clear he can't use that luck of his to protect those who mean the most to him. He might be the goddess's golden child, the chosen one--but no one else is chosen with him. He's a failed savior, an incapable hero, and there is no escape from the destiny which has been decided for him.

There's a reason his lightcone is called "Inherently Unjust Destiny." His own destiny, decided when he was born favored of an aeon, makes him a prisoner of the suffering that he can survive but never avoid.

We see how much this haunts him constantly throughout his experiences in 2.1...

To me, I would interpret the English banner name "Gilded Imprisonment" as much more related to how Aventurine's blessing, which is supposed to make him the favored, lucky, golden child, is actually nothing more than a thin veneer over the terrible destiny that binds him, continually costing him everything and everyone he loves.

On to the other point entirely, I think people might also really be misinterpreting that sentence about "escaping Jade's clutches." Again, I think this relates a lot to the fact that people are coming into Aventurine's character with this preconception of him as a prisoner to the IPC, so they're interpreting this sentence in the most literal way possible ("I want to get away from you"), but that is actually not what Aventurine is saying at all there.

Jade's rank in the IPC is P46. If Aventurine is promoted to P46, he would no longer be her subordinate. Therefore, when he says "I don't want to bet anything just to escape your clutches," this is actually a (vaguely snarky, to be sure) compliment. Aventurine is saying "I don't want you to think I'm engaging in a bet [that I know I'll win] because I dislike working for you."

It's supposed to be flattery. He's saying "Don't think I'm trying to get away from you, oh great Madam Jade. I wouldn't try to make any bets just to get out of being your underling."

I think it's got a healthy dose of sarcasm to be sure, because Jade herself would have trained Aventurine to snatch every chance to get ahead. So now he's in the hilarious situation of having to balance the expected respect to his mentor ("Of course I would never want to leave you! You're the best boss!") with the fact that his own mentor wants him to be cut-throat at all costs lolol.

It's irony-laced flattery for sure.

That's why his next line is "Well, if it's just a friendly bet though, then sure, I'll engage." He's saying "So long as you know I'm not betting because I dislike working for you, sure, I'll play along." Because he knows that's what he's supposed to do--as a Stoneheart, he should be seizing every opportunity to advance. He virtually has to make this bet that he'll be promoted just to demonstrate the desirous personality that Jade would be expecting.

And honestly, it's supposed to be a callback to their first scene together too. They literally add that to text so people can't miss it. Kakavasha came to Jade as a person "hungry" to rise up the chain, to change his circumstances. He's making the same bet again to suggest to her that he hasn't changed in the slightest even after his experiences in Penacony.

(Now, why he's trying to act like he hasn't changed in front of Jade is another story, and "Aventurine is out to destroy the IPC" conspiracy theorists can run wild with this one for sure.)

But yeah. That line... really does not mean what people think it means, apparently.

Anddddd I'll get to the character foils in another post; this was already long enough as-is! 😂

[fsfghgee]

Your name's become synonymous with betrayal.

To those too obtuse to understand me. ~ Bi-Han [Sub-Zero] to Syzoth [Reptile] MK1.

I think most people aren't paying enough attention to Bi-Han's nuances because of their own frustrations with specific traits/situations that make up his character (especially because of the way Bi-Han treats Tomas and how most characters despise Bi-Han's actions), but I admire you, @evilbihan and @inflamedrosenkranz, and @cienie-isengardu, and all those who make the slightest effort to understand the character. You are in the minority that highlights these nuances and I think this is so necessary, because I really don't understand how so many people see Sub-Zero Bi-Han from MK9 and Mythologies who barely had lines or interaction with other characters as deeper than Bi-Han Sub-Zero from the Liu Kang Era that got multiple interactions, diverse relationships and much longer story mode time.

Also, I think it's funny to see people saying to this day that Bi-Han Sub-Zero from previous timelines was neutral and now he's like a cartoon villain, as if the old one was somehow more noble than Bi-Han from the Liu Kang era, when all the og Bi-Han did in the past was spare Sareena because she was the only one who BEGGED him not to kill her (after he had already killed 2 demons, his rival Scorpion and more a couple of people to complete the mission) and tried to reverse the actions that the success of his mission would entail after Raiden told him to do so (otherwise, he would die. His realm would be destroyed by his client Quan Chi). Also, Raiden confirmed that his soul was indeed tainted with evil (like, he had a kind of predisposition to end up in Netherrealm for doing bad things and somehow enjoying it).

However, at no point does Liu Kang, the god and creator of Bi-Han in MK1, says that Bi-Han has a "evil heart" or that his soul is tainted with evil as Raiden told him in previous timelines. Other characters who barely know him and know nothing about his and the clan's life before he abandoned the duty imposed by Liu Kang, judge him and judge the things he does as evil without even knowing the reason behind it (and let's be honest, if all the supposed lives that Bi-Han's actions in the hope of elevating the clan cost were taken at the behest of Liu Kang, the same people who judge him would be applauding. As if some lives were worth more than others…).

And unlike Tomas, that mission at the Ying Fortress was not Bi-Han's first and the battle he missed to free Shao from prison in OutWorld would not have been his first battle either.

"After our years of idleness, it pleases me to again face kombat".

Those deep frustrations that Kuai Liang said he knew Bi-Han had, but that he never imagined that Bi-Han would accept the first offer that came along to escape them…

Tomas [Smoke]: Letting Father die… Forsaking Earthrealm? He's abandoned all reason! Kuai Liang [Scorpion]: I knew Bi-Han's frustrations ran deep. But I never thought they could inspire such madness. We can't let his corruption spread.

Did he really never imagine this could happen? Or did he just ignore what Bi-Han felt? What he used to say? And how his brother wasn't the only one who felt that way…

Tomas [Smoke]: What are you doing? Once he's exposed, won't you be made Grandmaster? Kuai Liang [Scorpion]: You forget Cyrax and Sektor. Their loyalty to Bi-Han is absolute. They'll sooner abet his corruption than follow me.

Liu Kang says he abandoned his family and some people say he betrayed his brothers, while in fact Bi-Han offered more than once the opportunity for Kuai Liang and Tomas to join him, but they declined his offers of peace because they did not agree with his vision (and they were bitter because Bi-Han had let their father die, I know I know).

All Bi-Han wants for the clan is a better future and he did what he thought was necessary to achieve it. He would like to share a prosperous future with Kuai Liang (and Tomas, even though he probably prefers Tomas to keep his mouth shut and his enthusiasm for tradition and his "father" to himself), but he was rejected. They are the ones who abandoned him first.

Bi-Han [Sub-Zero]: End this, brother! Embrace the future. Kuai-Liang [Scorpion]: I want no part of it!

Sub-Zero: Heed your Grandmaster! Scorpion: I will not betray our principles.

Sub-Zero: Your rebellion stings. Scorpion: You expect less from Scorpion? Sub-Zero: You could have ruled at my side. Scorpion: Just the thought of it sickens me.

Sub-Zero: I've gained the Lin Kuei's freedom. Smoke: You've only earned them infamy.

Sub-Zero: Resist me, and there will be consequences. Smoke: And to think I once idolized you.

Smoke: I rejected the Lin Kuei to fight for justice. Omni-Man: Justice? How stupidly self-righteous of you.

Bi-Han will not stop pursuing a better future for the Lin Kuei to please Kuai and Liu Kang, because the Lin Kuei is what matters most to him. And I'm really glad that leaks clearly show that Bi-Han was and still is an anti-hero (aka not conventional hero). And I'm not talking about og Bi-Han and his victory over Fujin and Quan Chi, I'm talking about Bi-Han from MK1 who more than once has already put his own life on the line to defend Earthrealm and will continue to defeat anyone, including gods, to defend the people he loves.

He has his own agenda, but even Liu Kang recognizes that it's not an evil one, but as we all know, Bi-Han has been walking crooked to achieve this. I'm not going to delve into how his mother may have influenced his life and the decisions he made or how the supposed not-so-great relationship he had with his father motivated him to do what he did, but there is no shortage of hints that his parents were an important part in the formation of his character (as parents are in the life of anyone who has/had them...),

Sindel: Both your parents were excellent fighters. Kuai Liang [Scorpion]: I can only hope to live up to their example.

Bi-Han [Sub-Zero]: My father was a fool to follow you. Liu Kang: He wisely honored Earthrealm with his service.

Tomas [Smoke]: If Mother were alive… Bi-Han [Sub-Zero]: She would applaud my actions.

I just want to say thanks to anyone who is interested in the nuances of Bi-Han and as much as I don't like certain attitudes of Kuai Liang and Bi-Han, I hope that one day Kuai accepts Bi-Han for who he is, not who he would like him to be, and that Bi-Han gets what he wants in the least destructive way possible. I know, a fighting game needs conflicts, but Bi-Han's connection with Kuai was and will always be eternal. Blood connection is an understatement.

Raiden: I never thought *you* would betray Earthrealm. Sub-Zero: My only loyalty is to the Lin Kuei.

__________

[luxtoony]

Secret spaces, secret places.

I had a shitty mood today so of course I vent on the blue boy.

This could be taking place either after the season 2 finally, bc Leo rl wanted to escape the sudden wave of responsibilities and expectations, or after the movie, because well... Zero/different gravity, space... prison dimension...

Yea.

So we can pretend that ISS has like a curfew when noone would catch him moping ok?

I ended up playing on the NASA site for way too long (big recomendations, there is so much cool free stuff there)

lil brighter version bc i have no idea how it looks across devices

[lutorao]

Lawlu and Pain

I don't think people really realizes how terrible luffy's childhood was , just because he was only smiling it doesn't mean it wasn't painful . Luffy was so afraid of being alone that at the age of 7 he was ready to die for Ace's and Sabo's sake

“Being lonely is more painful then getting hurt.”

I hate when someone says that luffy is silly , he isn't silly or something , because he is joyful and carefree doesn't makes him silly or naive , his battle IQ is really high right?

Most of the main characters of shonen anime have their own mentor, teacher, but not Luffy

He didn't know his own father, he didn't know what his grandfather was doing. Why was he a hero? He didn't know his mother, his only family was Sabo and Ace, and when he lost Ace, he thought Sabo was already dead.

Ace - who was one of the craziest and A restless child with a lot of issues

Sabo- who was from the "royal" family but escaped from his family, had problems with them, then this child risks his life for freedom and "dies" ( luffy and Ace believed that Sabo was dead )

in front of you is a boy who grew up with bandits, thieves and pirates, who never left his village, who needed freedom as much as air, and yes, he is very fond of Adventure. And he craves adventures, so I think , his often reckless actions are caused by this

What I noticed about Luffy is that he has an attachment to people, that's exactly what was with Ace and Zoro. because Zoro was the first person who became part of his crew and shared all his emotions (they have spacial place in my heart) But also he never calls anyone else his brother, he refers to everyone as a friend or crew member.

I don't know how but he has special instincts when it comes to choosing people he doesn't choose crew members because they are strong he chooses them because he saw how kind they were and also I think Luffy notices things in people that no one else would. I think that's why he chose Law, even though his whole crew was against, Luffy just told them that Law was a very good person and that's it.

Luffy loses his crew, learns about his own brother, goes to prison to free Ace, however, he is poisoned and loses 10 years of his life to save his own brother and goes to war where the chance of survival is almost zero. and Ace dies in his arms, and his body shuts down to protect him from the shock, and here we meet Law, I can't even put into words how huge and important things he did for Luffy .

(look at his smile I love him sm)

Rushing into the middle of a war and saving someone you barely know is not an easy thing, especially since we all know at what cost Luffy repays the debt.

law knows exactly how it feels to lose someone not only loose but someone sacrificed himself just for your life , as Cora did for law before, they didn't ask for it, but Ace and Cora sacrificed themselves for them, yes law lost his parents before and it was hurt but they were killed they didn't sacrifice themselves but Cora did , that's why this was way more hurt for him

And yes, Law knows very well how it feels when someone you respect, someone you adore dies in front of you, sacrificing himself to save your life.

And yes, he decided to save someone's life and take care of someone who might one day be his enemy, but the flame inside that person is going to turn the world upside down and he wants to be a part of it.

( Just thinking about how Law took care of Luffy for two weeks warms my heart, I want to see him treat luffy's wounds and take care of him )

sometimes I want them to talk about their pain and share it with each other

Luffy's psychological portrait changed radically, only 1.5 years of training with Rayleigh made him grow both personally and in strength and of course because Ace death , he became overprotective

After all this, I think that Luffy developed a phobia

This phobia of losing someone you love is called thanatophobia

the fear of losing someone you love is really deep inside luffy and yes inside law as well

And of course, when he meets Law again, two years later, at Punk Hazard, he is ready to do everything for him, in his emotions, voice, manner of speaking, actions, in his attitude towards Law, it can be felt in everything to show that now he is by his side, this time he saves him

As soon as they reached Dressrosa, laws plan was immediately thwarted and Doffy decided to kill him , And again that fear to lose someone who is your saviour "no not again "

"finally I found you, from now on I'll protect you"

Fear Again

we all know he didn't mean that , he was afraid someone could sacrificed himself for him AGAIN , that's why he left his crew aside and decided to do everything alone , but sweetie luffy is more stubborn than you could imagine :xDDD so stfu

then luffy carries him like a doll? yes

carries even his sword ? of course

is law against ? no

my fav moment is when Luffy was fighting on Dressrosa, Law was just waiting for him to come and Luffy would pick him up again and take him away.

(they are cutest)

and Yes this fear again

you can feel it in luffy's voice

and yes law did everything what he could but it wasn't enough to defeat doffy so he left everything to luffy , and yes. he was ready to die along with him because he didn't want to someone sacrificed himself because of him AGAIN so he prefers to die along with him than live without him

In the end, what I'm trying to say is that the loss of loved ones made these two people afraid that they might lose important people and those they love, in the case of Law , this is manifested in the fact that he does not want anyone to sacrifice himself for him and anything too much to do, Luffy's case adds to the sacrifice even if he doesn't prove to be strong enough to protect everyone he loves, both characters had the same type of story in that they lost someone they loved because that person gave up their own life to save them.

(stfu law u can't )

[calware]

what r some of ur fav Hal fics? Currently looking 2 read some and would love some recs!

sure thing!!

fics that are specifically about hal:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

fics that have hal in them:

Bound in Ink and Iron by cyphertext (@4lph4kidz) teen - no archive warnings apply - 18,627 words - 3 chapters (unfinished) A prisoner in his own kingdom, the Prince of Derse seeks his freedom through the inadvisable use of a magic mirror. While making his escape he finds himself lost and in the company of a strange boy who lives alone in the ruins of his grandmother’s cottage. Both cursed, both hunted, they agree to travel together in the hopes that they can find some way to save their loved ones from their terrible fates. Or so the story goes.

hal is in this one for one chapter. but so far there are only three chapters... which means he's there for a whole third of the fic ^_^ but for real, i really like the way zero portrays him here. i am a supporter of evil shadow clone rights

Tennessee Whiskey & You by mistlafey teen - graphic depictions of violence, major character death - 12,217 words - 5 chapters (unfinished) When Dirk dies after an aneyursm, Hal and Jake have difficulties coping. Jake drinks to forget, and eventually Hal can't handle drunk Jake and his own grief - so he turns that into anger. “I’m not him, Jake! I can’t fucking- I can’t fix you. Dirk is gone and you don’t get to pretend he isn’t anymore. I can’t be Dirk, and every time you try to tell me I am it fucking hurts. There’s nothing left for you here. If Dirk was the only person that filled a void in you, there is nothing left to make you whole.”

i honestly have no idea how this is going to go but the bar scene in this one lives in my head rent-free. idk if it's ever going to update again though. hal fans forever forced to take what we can get

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. hal is also there sometimes

[lunastrophe]

Minthara's Imprisonment

"Hey, been on a beat the blorbo binge with Minthara as the Blorbo, I'm curious as to what you headcanon Orin having done to her? (...)"

Sorry for not replying directly to your message, Anon, I hope that you will find this post somehow 😉I was not exactly comfortable with posting the full quote - thank you for understanding.

🕷️ Minthara describes her imprisonment in the Mind Flayer Colony during one of her conversations with the Player's Character:

When Orin stood before me, she touched the dagger to my eye, drawing out a tear of blood. I want this one, she said. Ketheric nodded his permission, and I was taken below. You've seen the horrors of the colony. Orin kept me there for days. She forced me to watch as my men were processed; some for food, others as thralls. And then she placed the tadpole in my eye herself.

🕷️ In another line, she recalls that after being tadpole'd, she stayed in Moonrise only briefly - so after being infected, she was no longer Orin's prisoner:

My indoctrination - my infection - took place at Moonrise, but I did not stay here for long. (...) Ketheric recognised me as a soldier, and took me into his army immediately.

🕷️ When Minthara speaks about Orin later, she is obviously terrified of her:

I have faced Orin before, and she left scars on me that will never heal.

In a different line, though, when the Player's Character remarks that the cult "broke her mind", Minthara replies that "broken minds heal just like broken bones".

It can mean that despite everything, she expects to recover from her experience one day (...or maybe she just says that because she does not want to appear weak).

🕷️ As for my headcanon - I admit that it does not go far beyond what Minthara tells the Player's Character.

For any drow, being imprisoned in the illithid colony would be a pure nightmare. An equivalent of being captured by cruel aliens to whom you are just a cattle - with next to zero chances to escape or to be rescued.

In the Underdark, drow and mind flayers try not to engage in open conflicts when they can be avoided - but in some cases, they are more enemies than allies. And mind flayers are more than happy to torment captured drow, or to use them as hosts, thralls or simply as source of food (brains).

It is quite possible that before Moonrise, Minthara has never been in the illithid colony (not as a prisoner, at least). Still, she probably knew what to expect and it was not making things easier.

She was forced to watch her men being "processed" for days - convinced that in the end, her fate was going to be the same, if not worse. As if it was not enough, there was also Orin, certainly more than able to create a bloody spectacle that would make even a Lolth-sworn drow uneasy.

🕷️ And atop of that, the source of the greatest horror was inside Minthara's own head (and it was not the tadpole). In one of her lines, Minthara confesses:

I do not know what weakness of mine allowed them [Orin, Ketheric] to take me. That haunts me more than anything they did to me.

During her imprisonment, Minthara was convinced that everything that happens is a consequence of her weakness. And because of this weakness, she failed and soon she was going to be processed, consumed and forgotten, like a piece of meat. A horrible thought for a Lolth-sworn drow of her station and accomplishments.

I imagine that Orin was eager to feed such thoughts in her. She needed not even to torture her physically - inside her head, Minthara was already torturing herself more cruelly than anyone else would be able to.

[tianasficrecs168]

The Sandman Fic Recs

Magnolia35: Moonflower (Hob/Dream) • "Hob has to do a double take because Dream is crying; big, ugly, hiccuping sobs that wrack his skeletal frame to the point where Dream looks like a leaf in the wind. The raven that’d been following the man the last time they met— Mike or Martin or Matthew or something— pecks at the guys shoes. The story of how Hob Gadling starts a pub, beats up a god, stares down Death, falls in love with Dream of the Endless, and amasses a small army of fidget cubes. Not necessarily in that order.

TinyButFierce: "Into Darkness and Howling (I'll Keep Him From Drowning)" (Hob/Dream) It was beginning to sound like Roderick Burgess had something or someone trapped in his basement. Hob was starting to wonder if he should do something about that.

MonstrousRegiment: “The Uses of Adversity” (Hob/Dream) What led Hob Gadling — at the time known as Robert Stranger, because he’d been in a permanent state of pettiness from 1889 to about 1904 and now he was stuck with it — to the dank, cold, and dark basement of the Burgess house on March of 1957 was not so much coincidence or fate as it was curiosity. Yeah. Cats isn’t the only thing it kills. Alright, wait. Back up. Let’s start from the beginning. It was 1957 and Hob Gadling was, by no action or choice of his own, sort of — it’s a bit embarrassing — a criminal master. Not mastermind! He hadn’t planned any of it. Honestly.

CeruleanHeart: - “Darker, Still” (...) (Hob/Dream) When Dream doesn't show up for their appointment in 1989, Hob decides to devote a part of his immortality to looking for his mysterious friend. He is dedicated not to wait and hope for another century for the slim chance of seeing him again. Even if he has to bribe, lie and steal, use every trick in the book he's learned in the past 600 years, he will find him. After over a century, Dream has almost given up on the hope of ever escaping his prison when help finally shows up in the form of someone least expected, compelling him to re-evaluate the nature of his interest in an old acquaintance.

Snits: - “Country Roads (Take Me Home)” (Hob/Dream) • Hob and Dream go back to Hob's for a nightcap. While they're there, they address some trauma, and Hob finally learns the name of the man(-shaped being) he's known for seven hundred years.

Sonhoedestrazao: “These days of dust” (Hob/Dream) There is something different about him, though his appearance is identical. The curious part of Hob Gadling, the one that ensures that his wish to live persists through the ages, can’t wait to figure out what it is exactly. (Or: the New Inn encounter continued.)

Sonhoedestrazao: “Stuck in a season” (…) (Hob/Dream) Hob Gadling opens his eyes in the year of our Lord of 1889, in a tavern that he somehow knows no longer exists, among people long dead. Alone at a table for two, he leans over and says to no one in particular, “He’ll be back. You’ll see.” (Or: how to deal when your nameless friends keeps appearing in dreams and a talking bird approaches you with dating advice.)

Majestickasztan: “Painted by sorrow” (Hob/Dream) • When Hob looked up and found his oldest friend looking back, he was, one could say, taken aback. But when you're immortal and things go according to your expectations, life gets very boring very quickly, so he couldn't bring himself to complain. Not that he wanted to. He was pining for this guy since 1489, after all.

KatieKat527: “Perchance to” (Dream/Hob) • Hob Gadling muses on modern advancements. Only as they pertain to a sleepy morning in bed with his “stranger.”

Newfandomnewpseud (Broodthaers): “A Mug’s Game” (Dream/Hob) Hob Gadling teaches history, flirts with Death, gets a boyfriend, and accidentally breaks the laws of the universe.

Brackets (…) means it's still being updated/not done/WIP – and I'm paying close attention to it

Zeros with a strikethrough (000) Disappeared off the net (I still have a doc of it saved somewhere)

A black dot • means it's a one-shot

Ship with + means it's either time travel or dimension hopping – something along those lines

A heart ♡ means it's focused on Sexy times (it's pure filth PWP)