misterymassacre
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Summary
Tim Drake died.
It wasn’t a grand affair with the brutal weight of a crowbar and a nation holding its breath. It wasn’t a disappearance steeped in mystery, nor a martyr’s end in the midst of a world-ending event, surrounded by the roar of collapsing buildings and the flash of desperate heroism.
No. Tim’s death was smaller. Simpler. Quieter.
Tim Drake died alone. In a space too empty to echo his final breath. Somewhere off-grid, somewhere no tracker was pinged, no alert was triggered.
He died in a whisper, not a scream.
And that was what it took for him to start living.
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- English
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- 21,398
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Bookmarked by misterymassacre
17 Aug 2025
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Hob Gadling was halfway through his third drunken karaoke rendition of "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" when he learned that he had a husband.
A husband who was apparently trapped in a jar.
In 1389, Hob married a man in his dreams, a lover conjured only by his imagination -- or so he thought. Five hundred years later, a mysterious ransom letter has Hob questioning everything he knew about his dream husband, who coincidentally disappeared from his dreams seventy years ago.
Several miles away, trapped in a glass bowl, said husband is really regretting letting his marriage be only a story in dreams.
- Language:
- English
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- 49,309
- Chapters:
- 6/7
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- 2
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Bookmarked by misterymassacre
08 Aug 2025
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“What would you say to a field trip with me?” Hob suggests, regretting it even as he says it.
“Pardon?”
In for a penny, in for a pound.
“A field trip,” Hob repeats. “An outing. In the waking world. I have no idea if you’d like it or not, but… I think you might. It’s a place for dreamers.”
That last line hits its mark: That quirked brow paired with that careful squint means that Dream’s curiosity has been piqued. “What is the nature of this outing of dreamers?”
Fake it till you make it, right?
Hob grins brightly. “It’s called the Renaissance faire.”
~*~*~
This started as a goofy idea about how much Hob might love the Ren Faire, and then it spiraled into ~16k of hurt/comfort, friendship, and kinky sex. Don't ask me, I can't explain it, either.
Bookmarked by misterymassacre
04 Aug 2025
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“By all means, my sister,” Dream dismissively flicked his hand towards the foolhardy peasant with an indulgent smile only barely playing around his lips. “Be my guest. If he is to be your champion in this wager, and your gift he is not granted, it seems only right that you should inform him of these circumstances.”
“If that is your wish, brother, then so it shall be.”
And with that, Death gathered her skirts, and strode over to Robert Gadling’s table.Instead of Dream, it’s Death who walks up to Hob Gadling in 1389, and meets him every hundred years thereafter.
It changes everything - and at the same time, (almost) nothing at all.Bookmarked by misterymassacre
04 Aug 2025
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young enough to try to build a better life by sunshine_of_my_lifetime
Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, Marvel Cinematic Universe
13 Sep 2023
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They're in different, strange, mortal bodies, and their new lives have left them not quite as they were, and how they got here to begin with is an open question.
But what matters is that they're here and alive, starting over, and that's all that's needed for the House of Feanor to start to find each other again.
--
Or, the Avengers start to realize, one by one, that these aren't their first shots at living.
Bookmarked by misterymassacre
25 Jul 2025