#She's very convinced the things that were taught to her are the only good and right things because really that's the only pov she ever

[lixzey]

mine, forever mine.

one two

Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.

He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.

Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.

It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.

Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.

Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.

There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.

Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.

Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”

“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."

“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”

It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.

Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.

Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.

"You ready, mon amour?"

“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.

“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.

Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.

The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.

You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.

“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.

Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.

“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.

Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.

You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.

“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”

You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”

“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”

“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”

You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.

Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @this-is-me-lolol

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timmy #timmy chalamet #timothee #lil timmy tim #timothée chalamalabingbong #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothée chalamet fanfiction #timothée x reader #timothée chalamet x you #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée x you #timothée hal chalamet #iil timmy tim #timmy tim #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #insert reader #self insert

[damianwaynerocks]

the funniest thing about the batfamily is that they're so smart but they all have zero introspection skills.

the batfamily is smart. so smart. and they deal with the mentally ill population all the time. and most of the time they treat them good! they help them!

i find it absolutely impossible that bruce isn't educated on psychology. there's no way he isn't. no way he hasn't studied psychology, whether it was to understand the joker or any other villains, whether it was to learn how to instill fear, practice for going undercover, hostage negotiation, how to tell the difference between mental health issues and just violent criminals (because he wouldn't know which ones he could talk sense into without understanding why they were doing it), whether it was to learn better methods of interrogation, or even just an interest in how the brain works.

and i guarantee most of the other batkids are too. bruce had to have taught them that so they could learn how to go undercover or how to tell whenever violence is necessary or if you can just talk them down.

dick has a law degree, which means he had to do undergrad. i think it's insane to think that he wouldn't have taken a psychology class. he also was able to understand damian and how to handle him, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he wasn't aware of how his upbringing would've shaped his neural pathways.

tim has a genius level iq. no way he doesn't understand how the brain works. also, he was able to tell that bruce was in a terrible mental state just by observing him as batman, where bruce does everything in his power to hide his emotions. he's also, several times, shown to be one of the only if the not the only batfamily member to understand why jason acts the way he does.

damian likely isn't terribly empathetic to mental health issues. probably a little more now, but not very. but like. he might not be empathetic to it but there's no way he doesn't understand how it works. how the frontal lobe works. how the amygdala works. how to manipulate someone.

stephanie was in college, and just like i said with dick, i find it hard to believe she wouldn't have taken a psychology class.

cass is cass. enough said.

also!! they all have a pretty good relationship with leslia thompkins!! a psychologist!!

all this to say: how on God's green earth do none of them realize they need therapy.

and like i get why. bruce has suppressed his emotions so much that he genuinely think he's fine. dick is too focused on being a support for everyone to worry about himself. jason and stephanie push it all down. cass, and this is not a diss because i love her, would realistically be very emotionally stunted. damian wasn't raised to be empathetic to the mentally ill and even if he was, he's 15. his frontal lobe is so not developed. plus the trauma they've all endured? the training they've had from bruce, who probably wasn't that concerned about teaching them self care and most definitely taught them to put their emotions aside. so like i get it. but also.

they know all this stuff and??? don't for a single second (except for tim that one time) be like "hmmm i could benefit from CBT and EMDR"

except duke.

how is duke the only one who's like "yeah. you guys aren't okay." duke knows. he tries to reason with them and has several times been like "you guys are crazy. why are you chill with this."

which is all to say. i'm convinced that at some point duke is going to try to sit them all down and be like "you guys need therapy. please go to therapy. I'm begging you."

#i know that the whole “duke is the voice of reason” is kinda more fanon than anything bc he has to be crazy too to be a vigilante #but im convinced he's self aware of it #and is like wow #you guys are #so traumatized #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin

[talaok]

ok hear me out!!!!! pedro and y/n are super good friends (but they secretly love each other) and y/n has a cute 3 year old daughter that’s obsessed with pedro and for halloween she asks him to dress up as mando and she will be grogu and they act like father and daughter all the time and y/n almost burst seeing them looking so cute together and pedro never thought about having kids but he loves y/n daughter so much and is so over protective with both of them and idk pedro and y/n end up getting together and they are a beautiful family, i just love picturing dad!pedro wearing cute halloween costumes with his kids 😭 i love being delusional

pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

a/n: this is the cutest effing thing that anyone has ever thought of ohmygod

"Sure"

What? That was it? He didn't need any convincing?

"I-I'm sorry what?"

He smiled, watching your face frown in puzzlement 

"Of course I'll dress up for Halloween if that'll make Maya happy"

"As the Mandalorian?" you asked, just to make sure he understood what he was agreeing to

"as the Mandalorian" he nodded

"And she'll dress as baby Yoda"

"Grogu," 

"What?" 

"It's Grogu, not baby Yoda"

You didn't know if you wanted to roll your eyes or laugh.

"you're incredible you know that?" you chuckled, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him "She's gonna be so happy" 

"Incredible, huh? I like the sound of that" he chuckled as he hugged you back

"shut up" you laughed, soaking in his scent and warmth for a moment "Thank you"

__ __ __

Your feet were kind of hurting, and Maya had gathered enough candies to feed an army, but she was so happy and excited that you didn't have it in you to tell her it was time to go home.

The neighborhood was filled with kids dressed up as every type of monster laughing and running around, and Maya, Maya was over the moon.

She looked so incredibly cute in her costume, and the way she insisted on holding Pedro's hand every living moment just made it all the more heartwarming. 

And Pedro... Pedro was more than happy to comply. 

He'd been making her laugh and smile the whole night, going with it every time she wanted him to say his character's lines or reenact a scene in the middle of the road.

You had spent the whole night watching them, and with every gesture, your heart warmed and your eyes threatened to spill.

Now maybe you were being dramatic, but there just was something about the image that was making you feel all sorts of things, half of which you couldn't even name.

And you weren't the only one, because Pedro was having a realization of his own. He always knew he loved you and your daughter incredibly, but now... now a deeper feeling was igniting in his stomach, one that didn't want this night to end, that maybe, just maybe wanted this to be the rest of his life.

"Aren't you just the cutest little monster?" the old lady at the door cried as soon as Maya stepped closer.

"'m not a monster!" She protested, clearly not happy about it "I'm Grogu, and this is my dad, Mando" she explained, pointing at Pedro.

And he knew she just meant in the show, just like you did, but hearing that word come out of her mouth so easily made time stand still for a moment.

"Oh I'm sorry" the lady laughed sweetly "Here, let me apologize with some candy"

"yes please!" Maya smiled, forgetting all about the lady's mistake as her bucket filled once again

"thank you ma'am, have a good night," she recited as you'd taught her.

"have a good night sweetie" the lady smiled, watching her and Pedro walk away.

"I'm sorry about... that" an awkward chuckle left your lips "She just gets very defensive about her costume"

"Oh don't worry" The lady's eyes crinkled as she drew a reassuring smile "She's a nice kid" she said, finding your eyes after a moment of silence "You're a really beautiful family"

"oh-" you stopped, because as you were about to correct her, you realized... you didn't really want to, 

"t-thank you" you nodded "Have a good night"

Your head was spinning, and your heart was racing and-

"Are you ok?" Pedro's hazel eyes looked concerned, and it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you.

"Y-yeah, it's nothing" you tried your best to smile 

"Are you sure?" he asked "Maybe we should sit down a minute"

"I'm fine Pedro" you let out a breathy chuckle "I promise"

"I can hold your bag if you want" he offered, not ready to give up just yet.

"Pedro..." you only raised an eyebrow

"alright, fine" he held his hands up in surrender "I give up"

But before you had time to say anything else, Maya was already dragging him to another house.

It was only ten minutes later that he noticed something change in her, she wasn't talking as much, and her eyes were getting all droopy, and as a big yawn left her mouth, he smiled to himself.

She was finally tired.

"You sleepy sweetheart?" he asked, stopping to look down at her.

"a little" she murmured.

"oh baby" you pouted, "you wanna head back home?"

"mh-mh" she nodded 

"c'mon let's go then" you gestured,

But for some reason, she stayed exactly where she was.

"you don't feel like walking anymore?" Pedro asked, to which Maya slowly shook her head.

"I can carry you if you want"

It was like a match had lighted inside her eyes from how much they sparked.

"if that's ok" he said, turning to you

"of course" you nodded, watching as your daughter wrapped her tiny body around Pedro's the moment he picked her up.

It was a ten-minute walk back to your house, and in those ten minutes, two things happened: 

Maya fell asleep, softly snoring into Pedro's ear and making both of you laugh

Every doubt Pedro had in his mind, dissipated into thin air. 

He wanted this. 

He wanted you, he wanted to be there for Maya, he wanted to wake up in the morning and make both of you breakfast, he wanted to come home to a full house, and even if he'd never really thought about having children, now it seemed like the easiest decision ever.

He'd always loved you, and he'd always loved helping you out with Maya ever since she was born, but for some reason, maybe fear, maybe cowardice, he'd never told you, but now... now for some reason it felt like all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together, like he had finally gotten it, and as terrifying as it was, he needed to tell you.

Which is why, after you had put Maya to sleep and joined him on the couch, he said:

"I had a lot of fun tonight"

You laughed at that for some reason "You don't have to lie, Pedro, I know Maya can be a handful sometimes"

"No, No I'm serious" he insisted "I love spending time with her... and with you of course"

"oh" you breathed, surprised "Well I'm glad" you smiled "and for the record, I like spending time with you too, and so does Maya"

His lips twitched into a big smile then, as some of his anxiety melted away.

"So I- uhm" he cleared his throat, and you couldn't help but frown at his sudden change in demeanor.

Why did he look so... scared?

"I wanted to tell you something" he finally spoke

"you're scaring me Pedro" you attempted a half-laugh 

"N-no it's nothing bad" he reassured you "or at least I hope"

"Ok..." your frown only deepened "What is it?"

You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly.

"Well the thing is that..." he murmured, his trembling eyes looking into yours as he took the longest pause known to mankind "that I love you y/n"

there, it was out. No turning back now.

"I felt this way for a really long time," he said "Well since before Maya was born, but... you know, you were with-" he stopped himself, not able to say that piece of shit's name "and then when she was born your life was already hard and I didn't want to give you one more thing to think about, or maybe the truth is just that I was terrified of losing you" he laughed softly "and I still am, to be honest" he confessed "but I just wanted you to know now, because y/n I really do" he promised, gingerly taking your hand in his as your eyes watered "I love you, and I love Maya, and-and I- I understand that it's difficult and it's fine if you don't feel the same way... but I'd really love for us to be a family,"

It was your turn to speak, but it took you a while to remember how.

"I-" you sniffled as tears fell from your eyes "of course I love you too Pedro" A laugh bubbled inside your chest "B-but- Are you sure you want to do this?" you had to make sure "Taking care of Maya it's not always easy, or pleasant, and it's not a part-time thing, it's all day, every day" you spoke "So before you make any decisions I just think you should consider that"

He looked at you like you'd just explained to him the hardest physics theory to ever exist.

"Y/n" he couldn't help but smile "I know all that, and I know that I don't fully understand what it means yet, but I promise you that I'll do everything I can, that I'll try as hard as I can, that when I say I want this, I mean it"

A wide smile pulled at your lips as you leaned closer

"you sure?"

"one thousand percent" he promised "I love you y/n"

And that's all you needed before you finally let your lips meet with his, tasting all of him for the first time, and melting in his arms like ice on a summer day.

"I love you too Ped-"

But just as you were speaking, a softer, smaller voice caught your attention.

"Mommy?"

You let out a small chuckle before turning towards Maya, who was standing in the hallway to the living room in her pjs, hugging Berry, her teddy bear.

"what is it pumpkin?" 

"I had a bad dream" she murmured, looking exhausted.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry" you cooed, "you want to come here on the couch with us for a little while?"

She complied immediately, stumbling towards you, until she was close enough for you to hoist her up and next to you.

"there" you murmured, as she settled right against your side "feel better?"

"mh-mh" she nodded, her eyes already closing 

"it was just a dream baby, it's not real" you murmured, petting her hair as she clung to your arm "I'm here now"

And all Pedro could do, was watch mesmerized, as he dreamed of when he too, was gonna be able to do that.

"see" you whispered after Maya's soft snores started filling the room "This is what I was talking about. You still sure you want this?"

His lips pulled into a soft smile as he answered.

"Y/n" he murmured, "I think it's all I ever wanted"

#this is not that good im sorry #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x female reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #fluff #daddy pascal #pedrohub #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito

[openconceptpanicroom]

IMAGINE BEING AN: American student at JJK

2006!Geto x fem!reader

2006!Gojo x fem!reader

Summary: Your first few months as an American at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Shoko is the best.

Note: fluff, hints of pining, flirting, culture clash antics.

Coming in as the new girl is never easy. Especially not when you’re in a completely different country with different social norms and rules.

Sure, your Japanese was passable, but you weren’t conversational yet. And there were so many rules to follow when speaking to someone. It was enough to make you mute for the first two weeks of school. Sometimes guys would approach you and you would get excited, thinking they were flirting with you… only to find out they wanted you to tutor them in English. Other students were nice enough to only talk about you behind your back. American bullies are way more straightforward. It was sorta refreshing to just be politely shunned as opposed to being loudly excluded like you were used to.

The first person to be nice to you was Ieiri Shoko. She was laidback, knew a surprising amount of English, and could see you needed a friend. She taught you better phrases to use in conversation, “So you won’t sound like a freakin’ textbook,” she’d say. You started hanging out with her outside of class too. Shoko knew good places to eat and spots in Tokyo that weren’t terribly crowded. The only problem(s) were those two guys she had hanging around her all the time.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

Those two were the superstars of the school. Two students who were guaranteed to be the strongest sorcerers alive once they graduated. Everyone adored them, except for a few sensible people. You would ask about them sometimes. Mainly things like: “Are they like, always like that?” or “How do you stay sane around them!?”

Geto was polite. You could say that much. Other than that, you found him very intimidating. This tall, lanky young sorcerer with piercing dark eyes and that mocking smirk. He had some, uh, interesting thoughts about America. Nothing you hadn’t heard before. Americans were lazy, arrogant, thought the world revolved around them. What irked you was when he said that American sorcerers “mix too much,” with ordinary folk. The day you caught him staring at you, you left class to “go to the bathroom,” and just didn’t come back. It took a long chat with Shoko to be convinced he wasn’t going to corner you in an alley and kill you. Geto would speak to you only in Japanese, and he would speak slowly. Like you were an idiot. The nicest thing he had said to you in those early days was a bit conceited. He’d complimented you by saying, “I’ve heard of your family. They’re a modest bloodline, I wouldn’t have assumed you came from them… they must be proud of you.”

Gojo was the most irritating. Surprisingly loud and cocky, totally unlike most of the boys you had met so far. And, unlike most boys, he would not stop pestering you about American pop-culture. He knew absolutely no English, except for dated quotes or catchphrases from movies. Sometimes he would shout your name just so he could say something corny like, “Stay golden, Ponyboy.” You were certain he was making fun of you. And, like Geto, you were very intimidated by the most powerful student in school.

He also had no concept of personal space and had made it his mission to get you to talk. Which meant a lot of him popping up out of nowhere and slinging an arm around you. There were a lot of jealous girls that assumed you were dating. All he wanted was to have bragging rights that he got you to talk. Needless to say, Gojo was devastated when he found out Shoko was talking to you outside of class. It had been a nice day, Shoko was going to meet up with you at a park to get sorbet and chat. Then Gojo found her.

“She talks to you? To you?!” Birds took off to the skies. An elderly woman shot him a dirty look, dropping her handful of birdseed before hobbling away.

Shoko took a drag of her cigarette, “Yup.”

Gojo flopped down onto the seat next her. She hoped he wouldn’t be too obnoxious, this was a public park “But I was supposed to be the one to break down her walls!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so pushy, she would talk to you,” she deadpanned.

They continued to bicker, with Gojo insisting he had been nothing but an excellent ambassador of good will and Shoko calling him an idiot. You had showed up to hang out with Shoko, only to freeze when you saw Gojo. Just as you tried to sneak off, you bumped into Geto. This casual hangout with Shoko had turned into a foursome and neither boy was letting you weasel out of it.

Thankfully, Shoko kept you calm enough to have a good time.

With how sheltered Gojo had been, there were aspects of his own culture that were novel to him. There were lots of movies and tv shows that were new to you both. Not to mention junk food. Gojo needed Shoko to help him translate certain things, but he was actually a fun guy. He kept you laughing most of the time. If only he would stop hugging you from behind like he was your boyfriend. Geto was quiet, trying to absorb the sound of your voice. Listening to how you pronounced words in English and Japanese. He would never say it out loud, but he found your interest in the temples and folklore to be cute. He did join Gojo in teasing you. Both boys tried to get you to call them by their first name. Insisting “No, no! It’s fine! No need to be formal. We’re all friends now, right?”

You took a swig of yuzu flavored cream soda and said in Japanese, “I know what first names mean here. We aren’t close enough for that, people at school would think we’re dating.” With a pout you added in English, “And no hot guy is worth getting torn to shreds by a jealous fan club.”

Geto only leaned down to you, smirking as he said, (in English) “Then you can call me Suguru… in private.”

You gagged on your drink. This was how you found out Geto Suguru knew five different languages fluently. Gojo begged Geto and Shoko to translate what was said. You just focused on calming down. What a lovely start to an awkward friendship.

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #gojo satoru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

[fiendishfables]

Can you make a top Lute x fem reader nsfw?

a/n: I most certainly can; love my girl Lute. Definitely going to try and write some more for her in the future. Enjoy!

warnings: nsfw, fingering, eating out, cursing, Adam being a funny lil' guy, mention(s) of killing

words: 1.5k+

characters: 8624

additional notes: thanks for 20+ followers, y'all! More fics are on the way; requests are always open!

format: Oneshot

"L-Lute!~"

"Tsk. Stay still, brat."

Your girlfriend had just come back from the usual annual extermination. Being an exorcist angel under Adams command was quite stressful, as she often took it upon herself to make known to you. Having her come back to you all irritable and angry was a normal occurrence on many days, but she did have her good days in between.

But, you'd have to admit that you liked getting to be subjected to Lute's bitter attitude sometimes.

Especially if those times happened to turn out like this one.

Lute currently had her hands purchased on the plush, supple flesh of your thighs, using her very evident strength to keep them apart from one another; keeping you exposed to her. Your legs would never be closed for as long as she had her head between them. Crush her skull all you like. She was determined to get what she deserved; claim what was rightfully hers.

Her tongue lapped at your sopping folds, nose just barley bumping your clit to provide that extra shock of pleasure. You had your fingers tangled in her short, silver hair, which she would normally scold you for, claiming it took her forever to get it to look so nice. This time though, she says nothing, as she knows you're only doing it due to the immense amounts of pleasure she is causing you to feel, the euphoria swirling throughout your body like a rapid whirlpool, ready to suck you into its deep, dark depths. Never to be seen again.

Your heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of her tongue in and around your pussy; the pace of her skillful tongue bringing you spiraling towards the edge. It was all so pleasurable, yet beautiful.

One of her hands moved upwards to your lower stomach, applying gentle force to keep your hips from bucking upward towards her mouth in an attempt to get more friction. Her tongue delved even deeper into you as she got a soft moan in response to her dominating action, exploring every spongey wall, every sensitive nerve.

Every damn place her tongue could reach in order to mark you as hers.

The shaking of your thighs, the heat of your breath, all must have been a sign for Lute to switch tactics. She never let you get off that easy. She wanted, needed, to have her fun with you; her little angel.

As she lifted her head from between your legs, your own slick covering her lips, you could've mewled. As the cold air now hit your pussy lips, it made you miss her skilled tongue almost immediately. It took most of your will power to refrain from pulling her back to you and pushing her head back down between your thighs where you both knew it rightfully belonged.

But that wasn't how things like this worked.

At least not with Lute.

She had taught you that patience was a very valuable virtue when it came to getting what you wanted. Especially if you wanted that specific something from her.

"Good girl. Seems like you can learn after all."

Lute spoke surprisingly soft, even with that smirk still playing on her face. The same smirk she always adorned whenever she knew she had denied you that sweet release; the one she had been helping to build for the past half-hour now.

At this point, you were surprised that Adam hadn't come busting into the room looking for his lieutenant. Lord, it was a miracle in itself that the two of you had managed to get this much time to yourself without the fucker interrupting you. The amount of times he had walked in on you, either with Lute's face between your thighs, or her fucking the living daylights out of you with a strap on.

Adam being Adam, he had tried multiple times to try and convince Lute to let him stay and watch, or even join in on the action.

Not surprisingly, he had failed each of those times and often left with a new bruise added to his face; the result of Lute blasting him with a beam of light and cursing at him, yelling at him to leave before she got up and made him leave.

The threat usually worked, because neither one of you wanted to know what that would look like.

You were instantly snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Lute's nimble fingers now rubbing heavily pressured circles onto your clit, sending rakes of pleasure running up your spine. A choked moan left your lips as she then proceeded to add a finger, then two, into your gaping hole, so eagerly sucking her digits in.

"Such a tight little pussy you got, babe." She cooed, fingers picking up their pace, movements becoming relentless in their pursuit of making you cum.

"Nice to know you haven't been touching yourself whenever I'm out for the evening. All because you know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, huh?"

You only gave a weak nod in response, stars and spots beginning to fill your vision. It felt like the whole room was spinning around you.

"Y-yes, Lute. Fuck, yes. Only y-you."

Your voice sounded almost hoarse, as if you had been screaming to your hearts content only hours prior. But your mind was quickly put back on track as your girlfriends nimble fingers sped up their pace, both on your clitoris and inside, pumping those digits vigorously in and out of you in a steady pattern that had you on cloud nine.

Before you had time to fathom anything currently ongoing, you let loose a strangled cry of pure bliss from your throat, as Lute let her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your entire body seemed to go through a series of tremors, showing the real effect Lute's fingers had been having on you. Your thighs shook; your chest rapidly rose and fell.

It was like a whole new heaven.

Once you had calmed down a bit from the intense wave of pleasure that had just so recently washed over you, she removed her fingers from in between your wet folds. She seemed to carefully inspect them before bringing them up to her lips, which already happened to be glossy with your slick from earlier, and licked the juices right off of them, as if she were a starving woman and this would be her last time ever tasting you.

She licked her lips, looking quite satisfied as she smirked down at you. She then gave you a gentle, affectionate kiss on the lips, letting you taste your own produce on her mouth.

"Mm. Damn. Sweet as always, angel."

You were busy catching your breath as she said this, swallowing the spit that had collected in your mouth and around your lips, thanks to the disheveled state your girlfriend had reduced you into. Even your hair was in a fray and she hadn't even touched it.

"Lute, do you want me to...return the favor? I know you're bound to be stressed from extermination earlier-"

You were cut off by her scoff, almost as if she had been offended that you would even begin to offer such a thing.

"Heavens no. What do you take me for, some selfish bastard?" She asked, lips pulling down into that signature grumpy frown she normally wore.

"What- babe no. Lu, its not selfish for wanting your partner to return the favor for you, especially if you just gave them an orgasm as good as that."

She huffed, looking almost cute with her face scrunched up in a scowl. But it had wiped clean off her face, eyes softer now, as she looked back towards you.

"Whatever. But I'm fine, babe, really. Tonight was about you, and you did so good for me. Thank you for letting me get to taste you."

She seemed to think for a second before adding:

"It was even better than getting to slaughter those demon bitches down in hell today."

You offered Lute a tired smile and let out a soft laugh at her attempt to compare your pussy and killing demons in the same sentence. Eventually, she too ended up chuckling, though still holding the statement to be true, no matter how much you seemed to want to laugh or disprove it.

At the end of the day, you both loved one another more than either of you could ever bring out into words or actions.

So many emotions came to surface when loving the fierce-spirited, exorcist angel known as Lute.

It was rough.

It was different.

It was maybe even a bit playful.

But by all the angels and their beautiful wings, was it fun.

(Bonus + featuring the 'original dick')

…Though of course it could never last too long, as the sudden booming voice of Adam rang out throughout the room as he practically kicked down the door, no doubt looking for his favorite lieutenant and her girlfriend.

"Guess who's back , bitchesss! Ey, Lute, looks like your party here is missing some of the 'original dick'! All ya had to do was ask-"

He never did get to finish his sentence, for there was already an angelic spear being flung at his head, resulting in a high-pitched scream from Adam, which was enough for him to go silent in shame that his lieutenant could manage to evoke such a noise from him.

He never did seem to walk in on you two much after that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #lute hazbin hotel #xreader #female #fem reader #oneshot #hazbin hotel oneshot #exorcist angel #exorcist angels #adam x reader #adam x lute

[dinsdjrn]

the devils we keep | j. miller x f!reader

summary: After a messy end to things, you feel the only option left is to leave Jackson. For good. [wc: 1.6k]

a/n: this is part one of a series of standalones; they all follow Joel x same f!reader but at totally different points in their relationship.. they don't have to be read together or in any order.

content warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, ANGST with a side of ANGST, no use of y/n, established (and end of relationship), break up, post-outbreak!Joel, afab!reader, talks about loss and death, lack of communication, morning sex (blink and you'll miss it), graphic depictions of darkness, poorly edited, lmk if I missed anything <3

previous part | next part | masterlist

They always used to say that if you loved something, set it free, if it loved you back, it will return. Sometimes when you set someone free, they’ll still love you, and they’ll run as far away as they can.

The night offers some release, the darkness that surrounds you also understands you. It wraps its arms around you in a cold and unforgiving embrace, numbing your heart and soul. Momentarily releasing you from the ache that sits in where your chest meets your stomach. You thought that a “sinking heart” was just an expression, you have quickly learned, it’s a symptom.

You were not ignorant to heartbreak and pain, but previously it had come in exchange of survival. You didn’t have time to feel your heartbreak in the moment, you needed to keep moving and survive. The pain had always come later and your desire to survive always took president. So the dull ache in your chest was just a part of your daily routine.

“Movimiento es vida” your best friends voice rang in your head, movement is life. So you moved on from your grief, and moved forward to survive.

So you’ll take this pain, and you’ll push on, find somewhere new and start over.

Jackson had become so comfortable this past year you resided there. In all truthfulness, Joel had become so comfortable and he made it easy to forget a world beyond Jackson. He was someone you connected with so easily; he understood your best parts and forgave your worst.

You weren’t someone who was very good at connecting with others. Ever since you had lost your brother and best friend, you had become closed off. Maria, one of your only friends here, would describe you as a wallflower.

“Stoic and unreadable,” she would joke.

You would always roll your eyes at her. Jackson was safe but for the first few weeks you weren't convinced it was where you wanted to call home.

That was until you met Joel. He was arguably more closed off than you, but his scars matched yours. It was almost ironic how your pain matched his. You connected over the foals at the stables. Well, you and Ellie had connected over Shimmer. Joel came as a part of a package deal.

You had taught her all you could remember about horses and the equine world before the outbreak. It was what began to thaw your frozen heart; teaching Ellie how to ride, tack and untack, groom and even the different feeding protocols for the different horses. She wanted it all, and for the first time in so long you cared to share.

Your connection brought you closer to Joel, and proximity was all you needed to know that your heart matched his perfectly. You had originally planned on being two ships that had passed in the night, but life had other plans. Life with a little help from Tommy and Ellie.

None of that mattered anymore, the fondness that once sat in the memory of Joel had been buried beneath a field of darkness. Your whole life you could never seemed to pick up on when you had overstayed your welcome. Joel made it very clear that you had.

It can as a shock and surprise as you had always found yourselves talking about the future you had together. As you reflected, it was you who always brought up the future, he merely nodded along with you. Recently he had been more distant and cold, but in the moment this was a blind side.

“I think it’s time we both move on,” Joel said but wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“What?” you whispered.

“We had a good thing goin’, something comfortable…” he paused, “But we want… no, we need, different things.”

His gaze was on the ground.

“If you’re going sit here and tell me you need a change. And that change is to let go of me… then I want you to look me in the eye as you break what you promised to keep safe,” you seethed.

His gaze met yours, his eyes were cold as the day you had met. Secrets, pain, and distance that you couldn’t tap into were all that you were left with.

He bore into your soul as he ripped it from your body.

“We’re done here. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. You deserve more than that, but it’s all I can give.”

“Fuck you, Joel. Fuck this and fuck you,” you spat.

In some other world, you handled things more gently, but you’re certain that world beat and berate you with heartbreak after heartbreak.

So here you are, surrounded by darkness, letting the burning pain in your chest turn to numbness.

You laid in bed for a week, with only the memory of Joel to hold onto.

The way it felt to wake up late with him, when Ellie stayed with a friend and Joel stayed with you.

The way he would kiss the nape of your neck and trace his hands down the curve of your side from the swell of your breast to the top of your thigh. He would pull you in close pushing your ass against himself. Knowing exactly where to put his hands and lips to ignite a fire within you. Then he would move into you slowly, softly fucking you in then morning light. Whispering sweet nothings about how you could live in those moments forever.

All of those stolen touches, kisses, slow mornings and heated midnights. They were all ghosts of loves watermark. They drowned you, plagued your thoughts. You couldn’t escape them in this bed, this house, this city. Joel had infiltrated every corner, nook and cranny of your existence in Jackson, it made it impossible to breathe.

You hadn’t slept much since that night, because at least the darkness veiled the details of Joel the light seemed to amplify. It provided short moments where you could process half of a coherent thought. Those thoughts always brought you to the same place. Washington. You swore you wouldn’t go back after the QZ fell, but it is the only place you know you’ll find safety. Safety and ghosts from your past that wouldn't haunt you leaving you feeling cold and lifeless.

So in the darkness you packed what you would need for a few weeks travel. As the morning sun peeked over the mountains you knew what you had to do.

With your small pack over your shoulder and a backpack of food that would last a week or two if you rationed correctly, you headed up the hill to a house that was all too familiar.

You knocked gently on the door and it had opened a few moments later revealing a man, that you thought would be easy to say goodbye to. You were wrong.

“Tommy,” you whispered.

“Fuck,” he said, “I thought you were Joel.”

“I know you have patrol soon I won’t be long. Just had something I needed from you,”

“What is it?” He asked, dreading what the response might be.

“I need a gun and horse, to get me to Washington,”

“I was worried you might say that,” He raked his hand through his hair.

“I have to go. I can’t stay here any longer. Please Tommy, I can’t take it,” your voice broke as you pleaded.

"C'mon now is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?"

"I can't keep feeling this way Tommy. I've lost so much so quickly and had no choice in whether or not they left. This though? It's almost worse, he chose me and kept choosing me. Until one day he didn't anymore and I still have to face him. To face this town, it's tearing me apart. He chose this, he chose to lose me, and now it is my choice to keep moving, keep living." Tears threatened to break and you could barely speak above a whisper without your voice cracking.

“I understand,” he said putting his hands on your shoulders and pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“Let me get something for you and get you on your way,” he said.

“Thank y-“

“Under one condition,” he said.

“Anything,” you said.

“You find a way to tell me you’ve landed somewhere safe,”

“Promise.”

So you went to the stable to tack your horse, Blues, and secure your cargo. Tommy followed a few minutes later with a shotgun, ammo and hunting blade to get you through to Seattle.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you said offering him a smile.

“Hey, be safe out there, alright?” He pulled you in for one final hug.

“Tommy, uh, one more thing?”

“Shoot,” he said.

You pulled a clip from your hair. It was a tulip hair clip that Joel had found for you. The gold of the metal clip began rusting over at parts and the pink wasn’t as bright as you’re sure it had once been. Joel had found it for you when he learned how much you loved tulips and their sign of new life in the spring. How they came and went before all the other flowers and their was beauty in their brevity.

“Can you give this to Ellie? She won’t wear it it’s way too girly, but I just need her to know I’ll be with her aways,” you placed the clip in Tommy’s palm and he put it in his pocket.

“Go on now, before everyone’s up and tryna stop you,” Tommy nodded toward the door.

You mounted Blues and off you went through the gates of Jackson for what you were sure would be the last time. Not even a glance over your shoulder, if you looked back you’re not sure you would’ve made it past the tree line.

next part

comments, likes and rbs are so greatly appreciated

tags: @undrthelights @pedgeitopascal @tightjeansjavi @joelsversion & lmk if you would like to be added or removed in future <3

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x y/n #meg writes things #devils we keep: series

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - epilogue

you know you never stood a chance series

epilogue: maybe light a candle

series masterlist | prev chapter 

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)

Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Christmas Eve.

Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.

But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.

Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.

But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.

You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.

You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.

So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.

“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.

She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).

It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.

She leaves.

“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.

Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.

You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.

Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.

You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.

You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.

She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.

So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.

If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.

Joel always comes back.

It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.

You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.

The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.

It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.

When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.

The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.

Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.

And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.

You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.

When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.

“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.

He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.

“Tommy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”

You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.

“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”

Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”

“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”

“She’ll come around,” Joel says.

It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.

And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.

But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.

He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.

“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”

He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.

“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”

You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.

He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.

“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.

He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.

He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”

You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”

He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.

“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.

And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”

“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”

He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.

He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.

“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”

You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.

He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.

You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”

The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.

It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.

There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.

Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.

Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.

Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.

Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”

You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.

“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.

“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”

“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”

Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.

Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.

“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.

The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.

Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.

You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.

“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”

“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.

Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.

Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.

You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.

You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.

“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.

“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”

Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.

You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”

Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”

“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.

“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”

The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.

Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”

“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”

Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.

thank you all so, so much.

*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!oc #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us smut #you know you never stood a chance series

[kingarubin]

I was thinking about Collector and remembered that episode from season one. It's similar but at the same quite different to what Collector is going through.

Both King and Collector just want to spend time playing with their best friend, but things seem to never go they way. They are trying to have fun and it doesn't work.

And even when they all are together they feel like they don't belong with the rest. The others seem to have so much fun together while they are being left out.

Also, in both cases a villain took notice of their insecurites and use them to manipulate them.

But despite all these similarities there are major differences between those situations. And the most important one is the motivation behind King and Collector's actions.

The problem that King was dealing with was that he wasn't anymore Luz's only friend on the Boiling Isles. At first it was just the three of them (with Eda being Luz's mentor, not equal) and now she was meeting more and more new people. King never had any close friends besides Luz so seeing her have less and less time for him was really difficult. King was scared of losing Luz to others.

King was jealous of Willow and Gus. That resulted in him wanting to separate them from Luz so that she could spend all her time with him. He wanted to have her all for himself.

That desire manifested in him being desparate to obtain friendship braceletes for them. He needed to have a proof that he is the most important person to Luz, that they really are best friends.

But in the end the end King learned that it's okay that Luz has other friends. This was represented in frienship braceletes spiliting into four parts. Because you don't have to have one friend, you can have three or more. They all can be friends with each other.

Meanwhile Collector's problem was that they never really had any friends. Archivists, Belos and even King just wanted to use them. Titans who were kind to him were gone. He never had a chance to learn how to play and be a good friend.

And from what we know it's safe to assume that their way of "playing" by turning people into puppets is something that they were taught by the Archivists.

Collector was jealous of Luz because she had exactly what they wanted. She came to the Boiling Isles and managed to gain trust and friendship of a lot of people. Collector had no idea how to do that.

And there was also her relationship with King. King was Collector's best friend, but Collector wasn't King's best friend. King didn't have any close friends before Luz came but Collector had no one (King at least had Eda). King was not only the most important person in their life, he was the only one they had. But Collector wasn't even close to being as important to King as he was to them.

But unlike King, Collector was never trying to keep King for himself. He doesn't even seem to be a person who would get jealous easily. They released Lilith from the spell and they didn't want to turn Eda into a puppet, instead wanting to convince her to join the game. He wasn't trying to separate King from the others. Because in the end they just wanted to be everyone's friend. They just didn't know how.

Both King and Collector know what it's like to feel unwanted and alone. They both know the feeling of wanting to spend time with a person that they consider to be their best friend, yet having trouble doing that. And they both know what it's like to feel unimportant to the person that is important to them. Although the circumstances and problems they were facing were quite different.

It turned out to be much bigger analysis that I expected, haha. At first I wanted to just point out similarities that I noticed (since King and Collector are very similar), but then I thought that if I'm comparing those episodes I can also take some time to look at the differences between them. So that would be it. Thank you for reading my thoughts!

#the collector toh #king toh #king clawthorne #platinum bones #the owl house #toh #analysis #toh analysis #essay #ramblings #its almost 3 am i should probably go to sleep

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

Slatekit was worried about Fogkit. Since the day of the funeral, her sister only left the den once or twice a day for sanitary breaks and stayed in her nest most of the time, staring at the wall. Slatekit had started bringing her meals for fear she would starve if she didn’t. Fogkit said “thanks” and picked at the meal and usually turned away halfway through, saying “I’m not that hungry.” Slatekit had tried to convince her to finish once and she had whipped around with a “I said I’m not that hungry, okay?!” and a burning glare. Slatekit hadn’t pushed her after that. 

Instead, she had tried to find ways to busy herself around camp. Sitting in the den with Fogkit and no one else, the den seemed to loom darkly around her, threatening to swallow her whole. She didn’t want to stay there anymore. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and Fogkit’s periodic sighs. 

So she’d taken to helping with the chores around camp - checking the prey pile for crowfood, fixing up the nests and carrying away the used bedding, that sort of thing. She’d even asked Oddstripe if he had any jobs he needed help with and he’d taught her how to search for ticks and fleas. It was a bit early in the season but he had her check some of the warriors, just in case. Thankfully, she found nothing. 

She liked helping. It made her feel like she was like her mama and it made the other thoughts quiet down for a while. She couldn’t stop worrying about Fogkit though. It seemed like other cats were worried too which did nothing to reassure her own worries. They tried not to talk about their worries around her, though. She didn’t know how she felt about that. 

One day, while Slatekit was plucking feathers from the prey pile to put in peoples’ nests, Goldenstar approached her with a cat she’d never seen before. The stranger was a pretty, tortoiseshell she-cat, all speckles and spots. She smelled very different from the kittypet in camp, like greenery and rotting undergrowth. She smiled as she saw Slatekit and Slatekit couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Hey, Slatekit,” Goldenstar said brightly, “I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Poppybird, FallenClan’s mediator.” 

“Hi,” said Slatekit shyly. 

“Hello, Slatekit,” purred Poppybird, her voice warm and smooth. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m helping pick out feathers for everyone’s bedding,” she said. 

“That’s very kind of you,” said Poppybird. Slatekit smiled, puffing up with a little pride. 

Goldenstar was smiling too. “Poppybird was a friend of your mom’s and she wanted to come spend the day with you and Fogkit.”

“Really?” Slatekit’s eyes widened. She really wanted to spend time with them? She’d never even met them. 

“Mhm,” nodded Poppybird. “I thought maybe we could go on a little adventure together.” 

“O-okay,” Slatekit said, standing from her work, “but, um, Fogkit might not want to come. She’s been grumpy lately.” 

“She has?” Poppybird asked. “How so?”

“Um…” Slatekit glanced over at the nursery where she knew Fogkit was probably sleeping or staring at the wall. “Well she doesn’t like to get out of her nest anymore. And she bit me.” 

“She bit you?” Poppybird’s face softened sympathetically. “Do you know why?” 

“Um… She said that the effigy was stupid and then started ruining the flowers so I tried to push her away and then she bit me. It really hurt.” She gave a few licks to the paw that had been bitten as she thought about it. 

“That must have been really upsetting,” said Poppybird gently. Slatekit nodded. “I’m sorry that Fogkit’s grieving hurt you, Slatekit.” 

“It’s alright,” Slatekit mumbled, looking down. “I still love her anyway.” 

“That’s good,” smiled Poppybird. “She’s lucky to have such a loving sister.” Slatekit blushed, shuffling her paws. She didn’t know what to say to that but it made her feel fuzzy inside. 

“Why don’t you guys go get Fogkit,” Goldenstar said. “I’ll make sure these feathers get where they’re going.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit nodded.

“Walk with me, won’t you?” Poppybird invited, stretching her tail out to her. Slatekit nodded and curled her tail with the mediator’s and started towards the nursery. She stopped in the entrance though, a sudden hesitance seeping into her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fogkit was curled in the corner of the nest, staring at the wall with a bored and weary expression. Slatekit was grateful that Poppybird stepped up to talk first. 

“Fogkit?” 

Fogkit sat up, frowning, and squinted at them. “Who are you?” She sounded angry. Slatekit’s tail fell to the ground. 

“My name is Poppybird,” the adult seemed unphased, her voice still warm and gentle. “I was a friend of your mother’s.” 

“So?” said Fogkit.

“With Goldenstar’s permission, I wanted to take you both out on a little adventure today, have some fun together. I was thinking we could go down to the river, what do you think?” Slatekit held her breath hoping her sister said yes. Going to the river sounded like a really fun adventure and she didn’t want to go alone. 

Fogkit shifted in the nest. “I dunno…”

“You don’t have to come,” Poppybird said, “but I’m going and if Slatekit wants to go she’s welcome to come. You can even come along and then, if you decide you’re done, you can come right back.” She took a step back to leave the den entrance wide open. Fogkit pulled her paws underneath her, hips shifting like she was about to start hunting. Her brows were still pinched together angrily but there was something else in her expression, something that said ‘wait for me!’

“Okay,” Fogkit said after a moment of chewing on the thought. She stood up and padded towards them slowly. Slatekit smiled despite the worry that Fogkit’s slightly matted, ungroomed fur was stirring in her. Poppybird seemed to have no reaction to the kit’s disheveled appearance. 

“Do you need to eat or anything before we go?” asked the mediator, watching them as Fogkit stepped out into the daylight, squinting harshly in the afternoon light. 

“No,” said Fogkit, “I’m not hungry.” 

“Okay,” smiled Poppybird. “Then there’s only one thing we have to do before we go. Goldenstar said we have to take someone with us to keep us safe. Who do you think we should bring?” 

“Ospreymask is nice,” Slatekit said.

“No,” Fogkit said immediately. “Not Ospreymask.” 

“Why not?” Slatekit asked, ears pressed back. 

“Cause!” Fogkit hissed. She dropped her gaze, pouting at the dirt. “I don’t like her anymore.” Slatekit frowned in despair. Why? What had Ospreymask done? She was afraid too ask.

“That’s alright,” Poppybird said gently, laying her tail over Slatekit’s back. “Who do you think would be fun to bring along, Fogkit?” 

Fogkit chewed her cheek for a moment before she said, “Floodpaw.” Slatekit was baffled by that. Floodpaw hated them! Or at least, he hated hanging out with them. She didn’t want to say anything though, in case Fogkit got angry again. 

Poppybird asked, “Does that sound okay to you, Slatekit?” Slatekit wasn’t sure. She shuffled her paws and shrugged. “You don’t know?” She nodded. “Is there any reason why bringing Floodpaw would be bad?” Slatekit considered it. Probably not, especially with Poppybird there.

“I guess not.” 

“Okay, would it be alright if we invited him then?” Poppybird’s smile set her at ease.

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded again. 

“Great,” said Poppybird. 

A few moments later, they were heading out of camp, Floodpaw following behind them begrudgingly. Slatekit still didn’t understand why Fogkit had invited him but at least it seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything mean to them. As they ventured out into the grass, Slatekit remembered their snake encounter with a little gasp.

“Oh! Um, it’s good that we brought Floodpaw with us,” she said. 

“Why’s that?” Poppybird tilted her head with interest. 

“Cause,” started Slatekit, “cause, um, last time-” 

“Last time we saw a snake,” Fogkit blurted. Slatekit nodded. 

“Wow!” Poppybird gasped, “What happened?” Floodpaw rolled his eyes.

“Bar- um, Barleypaw killed it,” Slatekit said excitedly. 

“Yeah, she smacked it until it died,” Fogkit whispered conspiratorially. 

“That must have been very exciting,” marveled Poppybird. 

“Yeah,” said Fogkit, sounding tired again. “I never got to tell mom the snake story.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Poppybird said, her voice soft. “I bet she would have liked it.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Fogkit glared up at her. “How would you know?” Slatekit held her breath as best she could while walking. Please don’t start yelling, please don’t start yelling. She didn’t want Fogkit to get held back from becoming an apprentice. She didn’t want to have her ceremony all alone!

Poppybird didn’t seem to react at all. “I did the same job as your mother and we talked often. She was a friend of mine.” 

“She never mentioned you,” Fogkit huffed boldly. 

“She mentioned you,” said Poppybird. 

“Really?” Fogkit blinked in surprise. 

“Mhm,” nodded Poppybird. “She was so proud of you two. She told me all about your stories and adventures. I’m really glad I finally got to meet you.” 

“Me too,” Slatekit said. Knowing one of her mama’s friends made her feel all light and cozy. Fogkit frowned and looked down at the ground. 

They walked for what felt like a really long time. Poppybird told them the stories she’d heard about them and answered their questions about FallenClan - it was in a deep forest and the camp was surrounded by brambles and they ate mostly the same stuff but not rabbits and sometimes frogs and there were two kits named Lionkit and Wishkit and they weren’t related - and by the time they reached the river, Fogkit seemed to be mostly back to normal. She was a little quieter than usual and her fur was still matted and dirty but she was smiling and asking questions and Slatekit couldn’t help but follow suit. 

“Look at it!” Fogkit cried at the sight of the river. It stretched out before them, at least three fox-lengths across, shining in the sunlight as it rushed noisily over the stones of the riverbed. Slatekit gasped excitedly. 

“Okay,” said Poppybird, “There’s a few rules to keep us safe that you need to know. Never go deeper than your belly and be careful where you put your paws to make sure you don’t slip. Got it?” 

“Got it!” the girls chorused brightly. Floodpaw sighed and sat down, looking away. 

Poppybird looked at him and said, “Feel free to have some fun too, Floodpaw. Do whatever you want to do, all I need is for you to be ready if something dangerous happens.” 

“Really?” he perked his ears a little. 

“Really,” she nodded with a smile and he brightened significantly. Back on his paws, he started down towards the river. 

Fogkit took off running, shouting, “I bet I can beat you there, Floodpaw!” 

“Huh?” he paused out of surprise then frowned as he realized she was nearing the water pretty quickly. “No way!” Taking off across the pebbles, he sprinted after her. Thanks to his long legs, he made it into the shallows a good body-length ahead of her and she cried out in disappointment. 

“No fair! You’ve got longer legs!” 

“You’re the one who started the bet!” he laughed, splashing her with a pawful of water. Fogkit shrieked and puffed up to twice her size, tumbling back. 

“It’s cold!” she cried. 

“It’s not that cold,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes and lowered himself down to crouch in the shallow water so that it came up to his shoulders. 

“He’s in too deep!” Slatekit cried but Poppybird shook her head. 

“No, he’s alright. As long as you can stand up and it only touches your belly, you’re not too deep.” 

“Oh, okay,” Slatekit relaxed. She ventured up to the edge of the water cautiously. Fogkit was playing with her reflection in the water while Floodpaw stretched himself out on his belly until his head was the only thing above the water. Slatekit carefully stepped into the water then reeled back with a squeak of discomfort. 

“Ah!” she cried, “I don’t like it!”

“That’s okay,” said Poppybird, coming up behind them. “You don’t have to touch it.” 

“I wanna swim like Floodpaw!” Fogkit declared. He snorted to himself. 

“Okay,” Poppybird said, “just remember the rules. Floodpaw, do make sure she doesn’t drown, yes?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, twitching his ear against the river bugs starting to cloud near his face. 

Satisfied, Poppybird twined her tail with Slatekit’s and said, “There are lots of interesting bugs by the river. Why don’t we walk down the bank and look for some?” 

“O-okay,” Slatekit nodded. They padded off down the river, leaving the splash radius just in time for Fogkit to leap straight onto Floodpaw’s back, sending water flying in all directions. 

“Hey!” he snapped, and Slatekit glanced back worriedly. He reached up and shoved Fogkit into the river face first. 

Slatekit’s stomach flipped in fright and she stopped in her tracks, but then Fogkit burst out of the water squealing in delight and cried, “Again!” so she tried to relax a little. 

“She’s alright,” Poppybird said.

“I know,” Slatekit said, convincing herself as she said it. “I just don’t like to play rough like that.” She started walking again, eyes searching the pebbled shore for the bugs that had been mentioned.

“That’s okay,” Poppybird said. “Everyone is different. Some people don’t like to play rough and some people do and that is completely fine as long as they show consideration for how the other person wants to play.” 

“Yeah,” Slatekit nodded. She liked how Poppybird talked. It reminded her of her mama. 

“Fogkit and you are pretty different, huh?” asked Poppybird. 

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me some ways you’re different?” 

Slatekit hummed thoughtfully. “She’s loud but I’m just quiet.”

“Oh, yes,” Poppybird smiled. “I bet it’s nice to have someone loud to help you when you’re quiet.” 

“Yeah,” nodded Slatekit again. “She says the stuff I don’t wanna say. Although sometimes she says mean stuff too.” 

“Like with the effigy?” 

“Mhm.” Slatekit frowned a little and paused to roll some stones out of place to look underneath them. 

“What kind of stuff did she say?” 

Slatekit’s voice was very soft when she spoke. “That it was stupid ‘cause it was just wood… And that it was, um, bee-brained to pretend it was mama. Oddstripe said pretending helps you feel better but Fogkit said that was dumb.” 

“Mm,” Poppybird hummed in understanding. “How did that make you feel?” 

“Sad…” said Slatekit. “I liked the effigy.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it made me feel less lonely about it.” She rolled one of the rounder pebbles under her paw, back and forth. The smooth texture was nice on her paw pad.

Poppybird smiled. “I’m glad that it did. It can be really lonely to lose someone you love. It’s good to find things that make you feel less lonely.” 

“But Fogkit hated it,” Slatekit said. “I don’t understand why she was so angry.” 

“You and Fogkit are very different,” restated Poppybird. “When she gets lonely because she misses your mother, it makes her angry. I haven’t spoken to her yet but I know other cats who are the same and it can be really hard not to get angry when they get that sad.”

“Why though?” Slatekit looked up at her. “I don’t get angry, I just get sad.” 

“It might be because it feels unfair,” said Poppybird, “or because being angry feels less powerless than just being sad. But sometimes there isn’t a reason. You can’t control the way you feel and sometimes being sad makes people angry, that’s that.” 

Slatekit hummed and rolled the pebble under her paw. She looked back over her shoulder at her sister who was cackling between gulps of air as Floodpaw repeatedly shoved her head under the water, smiling madly. She didn’t understand Fogkit at all. But Fogkit was happy and that was good. 

She looked up at Poppybird again and asked, “What do I do if she gets sad again? She spent a long time in the den not talking to anybody. It’s scary, honestly.” 

“Just have patience,” Poppybird smiled. “She’ll feel better eventually. All you have to do is wait and keep showing her you love her. If you can, it wouldn’t hurt if you could get her to come out and play with you sometimes. It’s good for her to get some sun and move her body.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit said determinedly. “I can do that.” 

“That’s great,” Poppybird said. 

After that, they went bug hunting in earnest. They found a worm but nothing else of note and Poppybird explained that it was probably too early for bugs like damselflies. Slatekit carried the worm back to a drenched Fogkit and they both took the worm in their mouths from either end and tore it in half, Fogkit cheering when she came away with the bigger half. Slatekit was just glad to see her sister smiling again. 

They all laid down on the bank to sun themselves until Fogkit and Floodpaw were dry and then they went home. Poppybird stayed for dinner and, afterwards, Slatekit went to play with Ospreymask so Poppybird and Fogkit could talk by themselves. When it was finally time to settle down, long after dark, Slatekit made sure to tell Poppybird goodnight before she and Fogkit went to bed. 

“Today was fun,” Fogkit said as they shared tongues in their nest. 

“Yeah!” purred Slatekit. “I’m glad you came to the river with us.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Fogkit. “I wish you wanted to swim though.” 

“Maybe next time,” Slatekit said, although she very much doubted that.

“When we’re apprentices, we’ll go swimming whenever we want!” Fogkit said. Slatekit grinned and bumped her head against Fogkit’s as the purr overtook her. 

“I love you, Fogkit,” she said. 

“I love you too,” said Fogkit and Slatekit felt the happiest she had in weeks.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Clangenrising #Goldenstar #Poppybird #Floodpaw #Wishkit #Newleaf #mediator #Fogpaw #Slatepaw #Lionpaw

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Hey idk if you'd do this but bucky barns x reader who has bad period cramps and how he'd help hcs? Xx

Bucky’s Girl on her Period Headcanons

•Bucky is very considerate when it comes to your period, he never wants you to be in pain

•It took you a while to express your discomfort, especially before you two were sexually active, though he can always tell when you’re not feeling well and he tries to help you

•He was almost like a puppy, he knows you’re not feeling well and he tries to bring you things you like, at first he brought you your favorite meal from the place down the street but he would bring it while you were bloated and nauseous which would annoy you, then he would end up worrying that you’re not eating since he knows you, you love to eat…he quickly learned not to say that though as you immediately took it to mean he thought you were fat

•Your mood swings confuse him to no end and right when he thinks he has an understanding of your mood, you’re crying

•He snuggles you whenever you get weepy and it’s his favorite time oddly enough because when you cry you get snuggly and when you get snuggly you get tired and fall asleep on his chest, making him feel like he’s made you feel better, at least enough to rest

•When you finally express why you’re not feeling well it seemingly registers to him all of the times you were clearly uncomfortable but brushed it off

•He does research on the internet that night for hours, learning everything that’s going on with your body (since men in his time weren’t taught about this subject) but also trying to figure out common ways he could help, if not just to make you feel less moody if he couldn’t relieve your pain

•He took some things he learned online too literally so the first time he goes shopping for you he gets way too much, coming home with 6 boxes of tampons (all the correct brand and size which impressed and surprised you), 2 plastic bags full of 15 different kinds of chocolate, and 8 new stuffed animals

•He expressed to you instantly that it doesn’t bother him that you have your period and he can’t believe that there are men in the world that are so uncomfortable with something so natural that they’ve made his Princess feel like she needs to hide it from him lest he be disgusted by you, Fuck that

•He sets to making you feel comfortable right away, getting you your heating pad and setting a nest up on the couch, turning on your favorite movie and snuggling you close, massaging your lower back

•Bucky downloads a period tracking app on his phone and fills in the dates and symptoms he notices and that you express so that he can tell around the time that it’s going to happen; from that moment on he is always prepared for that time of the month, and if he’s not prepared at least he’s never confused when it happens

•He has a secret stash in his closet of a box full of chocolate, he also keeps several boxes of the tampons you prefer to use since you always seem to forget to buy them on time, though whenever you need it he always surprises you by being willing to go to the store and buy them for you if he’s all out

•Bucky was truly stunned at the fact that men wouldn’t go to the store to get tampons for their women, a women that you’re in love with, a women that’s in love with you, a women that is going through something that men will never have to suffer through and they don’t have enough compassion to go get them the only thing they really need? The Sergeant doesn’t consider himself a ‘good man’ in any sense but Bucky doesn’t understand modern men at all

•One thing Bucky noticed is that you seem to be in quite a bit of pain almost every month, and upon asking you explained you have worse cramps than normal women, often being debilitating for you to the point that you can’t stand up straight; it took some time to convince him that you’ve already been to the doctor and that physically your okay, there’s nothing that can be done to fix it, you just have to suffer, he doesn’t appreciate that answer

•Bucky mutes your phone at this time of the month, telling Tony whenever he calls with a request or Fury when he calls with a mission to fuck themselves, his Princess is in pain and he needs to take care of you

•He gets Banner to get you a script for some stronger pain meds for when you desperately need them, not willing to give them to you all the time but at least to be able to sleep at night or have a nap when the pain is really bad

•There is a hall closet full of blankets and pillows for use when he builds you a nest to sleep in so you don’t have to move, Bucky actually finds that he enjoys caring for you, it makes him feel useful and loved when you look up at him with your big beautiful Y/EC eyes and smile at him

•About 6 months after you start dating, Tony clears out and gives you and ‘Your Cyborg’ your own floor in the tower to stay in and Bucky fixes up a whole room with a large nest of your blankets on top of a king sized mattress that sits on the floor in front of a TV, it has an air conditioner, a bathroom full of products and a basket in the edge of your nest that he always keeps stocked with chocolate and snacks; this is mostly so he doesn’t have to keep setting up the ‘nest’ over and over since you enjoy it at all times of the month, and it’s so big your beefy soldier boyfriend can fit into it with you and all of the stuffies he bought you before and after you told him about your period (the fact that Bucky believed the way to make you feel better when you were ‘sick’ was to buy you stuffed animals touches your heart in a special way, he’s the worlds greatest assassin and still your sweet teddy bear)

•You often find yourself getting a massage, either your lower back or even better your crampy tummy, appreciating the relief his inhumanly strong hand brings to you, the massage is often necessary to help you sleep at night and he rubs your stomach until you drift off to sleep at night

•It took a bit of time for the Soldier to allow your flesh to be touched by his vibranium hand however as he realized he was able to use it to help your hot flashes he tried to relax himself enough to allow you to hold it; Bucky now even enjoys watching you wrap your body around his metal arm which never warms up, the metal staying constantly cool which allows you to get some relief from the hot flashes

•For being a man from the 40s Bucky is very sweet and attentive when it comes to your time of the month, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain so seeing you in what is basically unnecessary pain is something he’s strongly driven to relieve for you

•Bucky is the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, never having expected him to be the kind of man comfortable buying feminine hygiene products at the store for you, you appreciate him more than ever and you are damn sure he will not be getting away from you any time soon

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

#bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fic #the avengers #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers #stucky #bucky x female reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier #period fic #period Headcanon

[ladamedusoif]

Starry Night (Joel Miller x Stargazer f!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 1

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x Stargazer F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~1500

Warnings: Strong language (Ellie is involved); canon doesn’t go here; alcohol references; fluff; almost certainly some stargazing errors please forgive me

Summary: There are a lot of wonderful things about making it to the safety of Jackson, but the darkness of the night sky makes it a perfect home for a stargazer like you - and you’re only too happy to share your knowledge with a space-mad teenager. Oh, and her grumpy dad.

Every time you set up your telescope, you remembered the look Maria had given you the day you returned from a scavenging mission with it strapped to your back, still in its packaging.

“Seriously?”

You shrugged as you got off your horse. “Seriously. Got plenty of other stuff too, so let me have this, please?”

She looked dubious, but threw up her arms in resignation. “If we need it for lookout - it’s ours, okay?”

You nodded, hugging the telescope close to your chest, and raced home to set it up. 

Space was your dad’s thing, and he’d made it yours, too. Nights in the backyard with his very basic kit trained on the skies, stargazing maps in front of you, climbing on his lap to look through the viewfinder.

He taught you the major constellations, how to find planets visible in the night sky, explained how stars helped people navigate, long ago. 

Little did you know then how that information would come in handy years later, finding your way to the safety of the Jackson settlement with nothing else to guide you. 

Stargazing in the suburbs wasn’t ideal. Too much light pollution. In Jackson, though? Wide, open dark skies, far as the eye could see. 

Every time you watched the night sky, you looked out for your dad.

Cold, crisp, clear winter nights were your favourite time for stargazing. Bundled up in your warmest coat, hat, and blankets, you sat on your porch, telescope in front of you and an old Atlas of the Night Sky on your lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you became conscious of two people walking along the sidewalk past your home. Recent arrivals, you guessed, seeing as they weren’t familiar; a young girl, an older man. Father and daughter, probably.

“Whoa, dude. She’s got a fuckin’ real telescope!”

The girl had stopped to stare at you, eyes wide in astonishment. You offered a shy smile and a little wave, and were about to speak when the man interjected, beckoning the girl on with a frustrated tilt of his head.

“Mind your manners, Ellie. Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to disturb you. You have a good night.” He nods and you return the gesture, touched by his somewhat old-fashioned manners, and they walk on as you go back to seeking out Castor and Pollux.

Over the next couple of weeks, you learned that the man was Tommy’s older brother, Joel. His exact relationship to Ellie, the teenage girl, was not clear: she wasn’t his biological daughter, you suspected but Tommy tended to refer to her as “Joel’s kid”.

They tended to keep to themselves, for the most part. But she would peek in your direction if she spotted you at social events in the community, as if she was weighing up whether she should go and talk to you. No amount of friendly waves and smiles from you could ever convince her, it seemed.

You took matters into your own hands at the holiday tree lighting ceremony. You picked them out easily: Joel, big and broad in a sheepskin-lined winter coat, greying hair curling over the collar; Ellie, ponytail bobbing from side to side as she looked at the illuminated tree in absolute awe and wonder. 

“Joel and Ellie, right?” 

They turned to appraise you, still wary of new people. You held out the mugs of eggnog you’d grabbed for them on your way across the room. 

“Thought you might like some eggnog, and I wanted to introduce myself. I’m the telescope lady.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “So cool,” she murmured, as if to herself.

Joel nodded and accepted the eggnog gratefully, the mug suddenly appearing doll-sized in his large hands. “Ellie’s got a thing for space, don’t you? Loves hearing about the space programs, the astronauts, all that.”

The teenager looked down at her shoes and blushed a little as she nodded. Apocalypse or not, teenage girls will always be embarrassed by their dads. 

Ellie took a sip of her eggnog. “How’d you get a fuckin’ telescope, anyway?” 

Joel scolded her, but you chuckled. “I found it in an old hobby store on a scavenging mission one time. I wasn’t gonna leave that behind, now was I?” She grinned at your conspiratorial wink, and Joel seemed to relax a little.

“Come over whenever you want, and I’ll give you a guided tour of the sky. We’ve got perfect conditions here for it.”

She beamed and turned to Joel, who shook his head softly. “We don’t want to be disturbing you, ma’am.” You corrected him with your name, and he repeated it, low and slow, in that warm, dark voice of his.

“I mean it, Joel. You are both very welcome to do some stargazing with me, whenever you’d like.”

“No fuckin’ WAY!”

Ellie tears into the kitchen on the morning of December 21, excitedly brandishing a piece of paper under Joel’s nose as he sips - or tries to sip - his morning coffee.

“Whatever it is, El, it’s far too early for this kind of excitement.”

“Look at it, dude!”

He rolls his eyes, puts down his mug, and looks at the piece of paper. It’s a handwritten invitation, decorated with drawings of celestial bodies and, at the bottom, a bright red telescope. He can’t help but chuckle as he reads the words aloud.

“Ellie (and Joel) are invited to a special winter solstice stargazing party tonight, December 21, at 6pm. Wrap up warm and be ready to see stars.” Underneath, you’ve carefully written your name and address in neat print.

By now, Ellie is positively bouncing with excitement. “The fuckin’ telescope! I’m gonna look through a fuckin’ telescope! At fuckin' SPACE!”

Joel’s heart swells as he takes in her sheer joy at the prospect of looking up into the heavens, knowing how hard everything has been for her, how much he has wanted to make her smile again. 

“Alright, but there’ll be no telescope if you don’t eat and get dressed for school. Go on, now.”

The telescope is already set up on your porch when they arrive later that evening, Joel carrying a flask of hot coffee and Ellie a tin with a few cookies - the best they could rustle up at short notice. 

“I’m so glad you came!” You beam at them as you open your front door, beckoning them inside. “I’ve got some snacks ready, and some hot punch.”

A smile creeps over Joel’s face as he realises you’re somehow playing a compilation of holiday music. Brenda Lee is singing about rocking around the Christmas tree, Ellie is nodding her head in time to the song as she makes a beeline for the bowls of snacks you’d set out, and he is struck by just how long it’s been since he’s experienced anything akin to “holiday cheer”.

“What the fuck does ‘rockin’ around a Christmas tree’ mean, anyways?”

Joel tuts and rolls his eyes. “Ellie. Language.”

You giggle as you hand Ellie a cup of non-alcoholic hot punch. “It’s fine, Joel. I think she means people are dancing around a Christmas tree, Ellie.”

Ellie looks sceptical. “Fuckin’ weird. Hey, when can we look at the stars?”

Joel lets you take the lead, as Jackson’s resident stargazer. He sits on one of your kitchen chairs, sipping from a mug of punch, watching you show Ellie how to navigate the night sky. 

The punch is warming in more ways than one. As Ellie bounded out to the porch earlier, you’d subtly held up a bottle of liquor at him and raised your eyebrows in a silent question, before adding a little to your and his mugs of punch once he’d nodded his assent. 

“See that really bright, orangey one there? That’s Betelgeuse. It’s a red supergiant.”

Ellie’s mouth hangs open as she squints through the telescope’s eyepiece. “Red supergiant,” she repeats. 

“See if you can find Orion’s Belt for yourself. It’s not too far away.”

You turn to Joel, checked blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and raise your mug towards him with a warm smile. “Happy holidays, Joel.”

He reciprocates the gesture, dark, warm eyes crinkling as a gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face. It might be the first time you’ve ever really seen him smile.

He looks to the heavens, taking in the perfect, pitch-dark blue-black carpet of a night sky embroidered with millions of twinkling stars. For an instant, he finds comfort in remembering that we all - everyone who is, who has ever been, and who will ever be - gaze up at the same firmament. 

General fic taglist: @agentjackdaniels, @julesonrecord , @tessa-quayle, @vermillionwinter , @iamskyereads , @tieronecrush , @perennialdoll247 , @love-the-abyss , @imaswellkid , @intheorangebedroom , @fuckyeahdindjarin , @littlemisspascal , @khindahra , @pedrostories , @readingiskeepingmegoing , @rhoorl , @red-red-rogue , @princessanglophile , @katareyoudrilling @survivingandenduring , @trulybetty @fictionismyreality @sunnywithachanceofjavi , @joeldjarin , @lahoozaherr, @s-u-t, @its-nebuleuse, @veryprairieberry (let me know if you'd rather not be tagged!)

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller jackson #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #the last of us #ellie williams #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal

[murmiss]

Headcanons about Yandere Simulator!COD.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Warning: mention of suicide, mention of alcohol, drugs, mental problems, possibly traumatic moments, etc. My personal vision of the character. OOC?

I think he's perfect for the role of Yandere.

His childhood was disgustingly shitty, and you can't blame him for that.

Born into a dysfunctional family, Simon was doomed to a hard life from childhood. His father was a drunk, a bloody alcoholic who prided himself on being able to drink for weeks and stay on his feet. A dirty man, with filthy and sadistic tendencies taken out on those closest to him. A freak who broke everyone he knew, trampling on his own son, turning the poor child into an unwilling broken doll.

Simon remembered those lonely nights in the old shed next to the house, cluttered with trash and rusty tools, like it was yesterday. The cold wind blew through the cracks between the boards, leaving goosebumps on Simon's skin and forcing him to pull his legs tighter together, curling up in a ball to keep warm. A night in the old barn was Mr. Riley's favorite punishment, a man crashing home after another rave binge to find out his son had gotten an F in school? Late for first period? Or maybe spent his pocket money on some silly comic book? - no matter what, Simon will fly instantly to the Locked Shed. No matter what happened, Simon was always drawn to his older brother, who, unfortunately, wasn't as good as his younger brother would have liked. Tommy was a jerk, that bad boy in high school who publicly cursed the teacher, broke the toilet faucet, and did stupid things. But the dumbest thing in Tommy's life was drugs - this jerk decided to prove once again to everyone that he was cool, not realizing that very soon this addiction would consume him, like everyone else who once got addicted. And Simon hovered between two fires, like a child dreaming of a normal family, like a son who had never seen his father smile and never heard praise. And the mother? Mrs. Riley-a dandelion of God, withering rapidly in her husband's dirty hands. She was a beautiful woman, the only person in that family who cared about Simon, and he loved her immensely, and still does. Mrs. Riley died when Simon was 14. It was a cold Sunday morning when a loud gunshot rang out, waking Simon from his sleep. Feeling an animal fear, he rushed to the sound, recognizing a sight that forever shattered his poor mind. On September 6, Mrs. Riley shot herself in the temple.Haunted by her husband's nightmares and torture, she couldn't take any more of this abusive behavior, couldn't watch her firstborn wither under drugs, couldn't see Simon hurt.But her act didn't make it better, hell, that kind of thing never makes anything better. After that day, Simon withdrew more than ever. Hitting his father was nothing, hunger was nothing, being forced to kiss a poisonous snake was a challenge.

Simon grew up, and with it grew his hatred and repressed aggression towards his father.One day in a club Simon watched his father attack a poor girl. She simply refused to spend the night with him and the drunkard, not confused, began to beat her as if he were a wrestler in the ring Simon could not do anything, just as he could not save his mother, stop his father's beatings or convince Tommy that drugs are evil. And he didn't understand why his father wasn't in jail. They'd find the girl, but when they did, no one would really care what happened. The freak always gets away with it.

After the death of his mother, Simon was forced to work part-time at the local machine shop. Old man Carson was happy to help the neighbor boy, so he took him into his shop as an assistant without any questions or demands. Yes, and Simon was a handy and understanding guy.

Simon started out washing cars, and after working like that for half a year, he was promoted to Carson's apprentice: the old man explained and taught the boy mechanics, letting him stay up late reading books about cars.

The old man was able to replace Simon's father, teaching the teenager simple things necessary for basic survival. For example, Simon, at 16, learned how to fix some appliances and how to use tools. But Mrs. Carson had already taught Simon cooking, laundry, and household chores, and he, as a bright boy, grasped everything on the fly. Simon noticed Mr. and Mrs. Carson had a son, which they never had, for unfortunately Paula Carson was barren.

Simon lived as a two-family household, mostly spending his days at his mentor's house, but when his father began to rage and throw himself at the neighbor's door, Simon would return, falling asleep again in his little room.

The work in the workshop brought quite a good income and Simon, having entered the desired college, was even able to rent a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, and finally moved out of his home, so as not to see this den, and not to put, in Simon's opinion, the family of his mentor in danger.

The old man Carson told him fatherly: "Simon, you'll be happy when you find love. Simon thought so, but he couldn't imagine what that love looked like. He couldn't believe it would happen someday, not just pass him by like it always did.

But one day that day has come. First day of college, Simon is walking toward the auditorium when a stranger suddenly sweeps him off his feet like a small tornado. It was just a moment when he looked into your eyes-- He felt like he was going to drown in them. The way your eyelashes fluttered as you stood there, rubbing your forehead after the blow and babbling something, was in his head. From that day on, he couldn't imagine his life if you weren't there for him.

"Finally, I'll be happy."

But is this how it's going to be? Simon can't contain his anger at seeing you talking sweetly to some cocky kid in the back of the class. And the voice in Simon's head whispered sweetly: "eliminate."

#call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly tf141 #fanfic #headcanon

[wolfytoothy]

Dad Aaron davis. Ft.the morales twins AU

⚠️warning, this dies contain cussing, and us of n.word.⚠️

But other then that, enjoy.

.........................................

*when you were first born, your mom hated you, refused to touch you, and to even look at you. She hated you so much that she nearly dropped you on purpose. But somehow Aaron managed to convince her to stay, and lord was that a bad idea. She neglected you real bad, then it was when she finally snapped and just left.

*Aaron didn’t even know you excited till your mom was 5 months into the pregnancy

*Aaron had no intention of having a child, he was fine with being an uncle of two but not a father. 

*Aaron had no idea what the hell he was doing, so much so that Rio and Jeff had to come over, and a lot of times Aaron had to come over cuz he had no idea what the hell he was doing

*like he was so clueless bro. Like he didn't know how to strap you in a car seat, he couldn't change a diaper, he couldn't even hold you properly.

*when i say he couldn't hold you properly to save his life, he couldn't. So much so Aaron could wasn't even able to touch you because Rio was scared he might drop you.

*so much so, that Rio made him practice on a life like doll...I'm being serious

*once he was finally able to hold you,he was still a little rocky so Jeff and Rio some time had to us one of the twins as an example.

*Since he’s bald he doesn't know how to do hair. Last time he did that he nearly gave you a buzz cut. 

A: what's this used for again

R: NEVER, us those fine teeth combs it will pull out hair more, you only use the tip, to part her hair, use the big teeth comb

A: …and, why is there a toothbrush in here

R: You can use that brush for edges.

A: What is This????

*Since he knew father, (fresh out of the box)like I said he had no idea what to do. Mans couldn’t change a diaper, couldn’t put clothes on you, couldn't hold you right, couldn’t strap you in the car seat, he didn’t even know how to feed you either, was so confused.

*I mean he did know, cuz Jeff kinda sorta Taught him, you know when the twins were born. But when you were born, all the things he previously knew, went down the trash, he had no idea what to do anymore.

A: are they supposed to sleep this much*checks if you're breathing.*

*but when Aaron let the fact the he was a father finally sink in. He was set. He was a master at taking care of you.

*There was a good moment where you fooled everyone to make them think you were Autistic. But in reality you were just like that fr.

*you started crawling at 5 months and  walking at 7 months. Rio noticed you were showing VERY clear signs of autism, but when you got tested, it came back negative. And you flabbergasted everyone. The only delay was your speech really.

*but since you had a speech delay, you stuttered… a lot.

*You also had nicknames for everyone, like at some point at time you saw somebody and remembered them as that. Like for Jeff, you call him Uncle blue, because you almost always say him in his police uniform. You also call Rio, Tia Rio, or Aunty Rio, but sometimes you call her kitty. Because on halloween she dressed up as a cat, so you call her kitty at times.

*And when you were learning how to say you cousins' names, you always addressed them as, ‘MiMi’, and ‘MyMy’ or’ lolo’. and since you were a mean little thing, you called Miles, ‘Millimeters’, or ‘ kilometers’, or just ‘meters’

* the amount of times you bit him, and puked on him was outrageous.

*when Aaron has finally let the reality set in of having a child, he went ham. That bank account was being spended. You had a better wardrobe than him.

*you, Miles, and Milo, were completely spoiled. When everyone found out you and the twins were excited, they bought nearly the whole damn store. 

*Aaron had noticed you had a weird obsession with Stitch. You also had an obsession with transformers, (which was Miles' fault,) and you LOVED monster high.   You made Aaron watch and rewatch all movies you could find with you. And then you would quiz him at the end.

You: now who’s the wolf again?

Aaron: uhh… Lagoona

You: no you buffoon, it’s Clawdeen

*you were a little menace to society when you were toddler all the way up to 7. You and Milo were the bullies. But sometimes you’d choose to be nice, but sometimes you’d choose to wake up with violence.

Aaron: n/n, Milo, why did me and Rio get a call from the school that you two pushed a kid off the swings.

You:good question. Not even I know that information

Aaron: Milo

Milo: see what happened was-

*but you would say the most out of pocket, disrespectful shit EVER. you had no filter whatsoever.

You:....

Random adult: what?

You: …I don’t like your hair

Aaron: Y/N!!

You: but daddy it's ugly. It looks like there's grapes in her hair

*you never really talked to no one, you were really quiet. You didn't speak unless spoken to in public, but when you're at home, you're a completely different person, also a smart mouth.

*at times you can have a short temper. And my oh MY can you hold a grudge.

* you, Miles, and Milo were ride or died fr. you three were inseparable, you guys were like siblings fr. when you guys were together, all hell would break loose.

Aaron: Why is there a naked  melted barbie doll in my microwave? And who put an optimus prime figure in the dishwasher?You:oh noo, we have a ghost on the loose

Miles: someone call ghostbusters

*Since your mom was never in the picture, somehow, your two Aunt’s and one uncle came all the way down from Jamaica, Just to meet you. They visit occasionally, like twice or three times a year. And sometimes 5 times a year.

* They and Aaron have a good relationship. Rio likes them. But your mom. Literally disappeared without a trace, she got up outta there. But then magically she appeared when you were 8, then her and Aaron started fighting for custody.

*You HATED, your mom. You were really salty when she came back acting like she was there the whole time. 

*And you hated even more when she disrespected your dad, and your cousins. That was the day you nearly catched a case.

*when you were 13 you had a major growth spurt, you were even taller than miles. ( HA Stupid bi- ) but only just by 1 inch. 5'6 to be exact 😌. And you were taller then all em bitches 😏😌…

*.... But it didn’t last long… when the twins hit 14 them nigga were all of a sudden taller than you.

Miles: HA SHORTY

Milo: Sup short 

You: hop off nigga’s😒

*(extra: Aaron: So you're telling me, every baby smells this good when they come out.

Rio: yup

Aaron: ???

Aaron grabbed Milo and sniffed him. Then he grabbed miles and took a quick sniff. 

Jeff: Aaron put my children down.)

.................

honestly... had this bitch in my drafts for a whole. So I just decided to finish it.

#The morales twins #Dad Aaron #Daughter reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #Miles morales

[arialerendeair]

Well, That's Curious

A fic for @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!!!

I had the pleasure of working with the most AMAZING artist, @maccca-chino, whose blog you should go check out and follow immediately!!!

LINK TO THE UTTERLY BRILLIANT ART LOOK AT IT, AHHHH!!

Pairing: Dream/Hob

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 38,800

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence , Happy Ending, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless, Orange Tabby Cat Hob Gadling, Depressed Dream of the Endless, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Supportive Hob Gadling, Protective Hob Gadling, BAMF Hob Gadling, Brief Suicidal Ideation, NO ONE DIES THOUGH I PROMISE, Getting Together, Falling in Love, Delirium and Death are tied for best sibling, King of Cats Dream of the Endless, Kitty Cat Cuddle Piles, Hob is an orange tabby and no one will ever convince me different, One more tag to be added when we get there - but it's a surprise!

Read on Ao3

Summary: Hob was not a list person.

But when he found himself in a situation he didn’t understand, the first thing he did was attempt to make a list of things he knew.

One.  He was dreaming.  Sort of. Two.  He was a cat.

This was going to be a very long day.

Full Fic Below the Cut

Hob was not a list person.

He never had been, never would be.

Now Eleanor?  She was a list person.  She loved her lists.  And crossing items off lists. At the very least, she (and later Robyn), had taught him the value of a proper list when all else seemed lost.

Which was why, when Hob found himself in a situation he didn’t understand, the first thing he did was attempt to make a list of things he knew.

One.  He was dreaming.

How he knew that, he had no idea, but he was certain of that in the way he knew intrinsic truths of himself. He was in a dream, of some sort, which perhaps made the rest of things make sense without needing to rely on particular logical reasoning.

Two.  He was a cat.

Why he was a cat, he had no idea.  But he was.  An orange tabby, if he wasn’t mistaken.  But he was, and he didn’t feel like a human, but like a cat, ready to pounce on anything that captured or drew his interest.

Three.  Something was very wrong with where he was.

The air around where he was sitting was still, almost stifling in the stillness. It didn’t feel right, and every inhale (and oh breathing was strange with all his senses dialed up as they were) seemed to be forced.  As though it wasn’t necessary, and as though the air wasn’t quite air yet.  The sense of wrongness only grew stronger the more he tried to focus on it, his tail flicking impatiently.

Four.  He was waiting for someone.  Someone who needed him.

The last thing he remembered before he was a cat, was being told by a voice that echoed and rang that he was needed.  That someone needed him and couldn’t admit it, and he could help in a way no one else could.  And if there was one thing Hob was very good at (even as a cat), it was going to be helping whoever it was that he was waiting for.

(He did suspect it was their throne he was sitting on, but that would be something for him to figure out later, whenever they appeared.)

Five.  Hob was no longer entirely, completely human.

This was one of the more perplexing items on his mental list, but it was true.  There was something in the back of his mind now that told him this was the truth.  But what he was, especially now that he was a cat, he did not know.  He simply was.  What he was, if it was a what, he didn’t know.  But he was.

Lastly?  He was stuck.

There was nothing to be done for it at present.  He had tried a variety of things, of methods, and had not been able to change back.  (He had, at least, tested his reflexes rather thoroughly and was glad that they seemed to be as enhanced as a cat's would.)  He was stuck here, waiting for someone, waiting to see what would happen next, so he could begin to... do whatever he needed to.  Help.  Someone.  Whoever it was. 

"Who might you be?"

Hob's attention immediately focused on the woman standing in front of him, who was holding a book and watching him curiously.  She didn't seem angry, or upset, mostly confused and curious as to his presence.  Where he was, precisely, would have been useful in determining what had happened to him and why.  Perhaps it would have let him start sorting all of this mess.  Instead, he gave her his best impression of a shrug. 

She raised both of her eyebrows.  "I can understand you perfectly well if you speak." 

Hob considered that for a moment, wondering if he would speak with his normal voice, the voice of a cat, or something else.  He swished his tail against the marble of the throne and listed his head to look at her properly.  "Can you?"  There was an echoing meow behind the words, clearly what the vocalization sounded like, but she nodded once more.  He relaxed and rolled over onto his belly, stretching out with a pleased purr as the cool stone pressed to the soft skin there.  "Where am I?"

"You are in the Dreaming.  How did you come to be here?"  She reached out to touch a fingertip to his tail.  He flicked it at her with a frown.  "Where did you come from?"

Hob shrugged again.  "I have no idea.  I was told I needed to be here, so I am.  Everything is different, and I am a cat." 

"You are..." 

She stroked a fingertip along his spine and Hob had to find a shiver of something, power, or magic, touching him at the same time and narrowed his eyes at her, but she didn't seem to want to do anything else beyond that singular touch.  There was something clearly confused on her face now and she was watching him with narrowed eyes as he didn't bother to try to finish the sentence for her. 

"Not a Dream.  Nor a Nightmare.  Where might you have come from, to contain power like that?" she asked.  "Strange that my lord would not have warned me of your coming."  She looked pointedly down at the chair.  "Or that you would be quite so forward as to sit on his throne." 

"It's comfy," Hob pointed out, his eyes drifting shut as he let out a breath.  Whatever lord that he had taken the seat of would survive, he was a cat after all.  "It's not as though he is using it at the moment."  He licked his lips and considered as he stared at his paws and dragged his tongue along one.  "Will he be back soon?  Maybe he knows what I am supposed to do and who I am supposed to help." 

She pressed her lips together and frowned down at him.  "You are supposed to help?"

"Yes," Hob answered, and the firmness in his own voice surprised him a fraction.  "I do not know with what, but I will be able to help."  He pushed himself up to his feet and stretched, before curling up on the throne once more.  "If you do not know when he will be back, it seems that the best thing for me to do will be to wait for him here."

"What are you?"

Hob gave a loud meow and stared at her for several long moments.  The question rankled.  There was an obvious answer (a cat), a less than obvious answer (a human, turned into a cat) and the truth, which was that he was... something else all together, now, that he didn't completely understand.  He wanted to know, and he wanted to answer truthfully, but since he couldn't, he shrugged and curled up on the marble once more.  He could wait for whoever it was.  He had time, and though his Stranger (Dream, he knew a name now) had promised to visit him sometime soon, he had a feeling that he would know if he was being looked for. 

(He added that to the list.  It was a strange thing to be certain that he would KNOW.)

"Do not be surprised if you are removed when my lord returns," she said, turning on her heel to descend the stairs, leaving a book on the arm of the throne. 

Hob lifted his head to stare at the spine of the book curiously, the writing in a language he did not recognize.  Interesting, that this lord would be reading a book, and would have a woman bringing him a book who felt comfortable quizzing him in such a fashion.  Who was this lord? 

He'd find out soon enough, he was sure.

~!~

Their conversation had been beyond any expectation Hob ever could have had of his friend returning.  It had been hard to keep the smile off his face as they had begun talking, and this time, his friend did not simply listen, but offered quiet commentary, and it had his heart singing with joy the entire time, even as the evening passed and closing time rapidly approached.  He was sad for it to end, but he had decades worth of those quick and secret smiles to store under his ribs and hoard them like the thief he no longer tried to be. 

He finished off the last of his beer and raised the empty glass to his Stranger.  No name had been forthcoming, but where before it had felt like an imposition to ask, now, it almost felt as though it were a game that they were playing together.  "So, will it be back to the usual '89 rhythm?" he asked, his voice soft, smiling sadly.  "I'd like that, if possible.  But I don't know what requirements you have on our arrangement, Stranger." 

His Stranger had paused, his fingertips resting against the stem of his wineglass as he studied the liquid in it without partaking.  He'd maybe taken two sips that Hob had seen all evening.  Maybe he would garner up the courage to ask if he could order something his Stranger actually liked at their next meeting, no matter when it was. 

"I would not impose on your life, and how you spend it, Hob Gadling." 

Hob's eyes sharpened to his Stranger, the tentativeness with which he said those words, because they seemed to be leading somewhere.  He tilted his head and offered a quiet hum of consideration.  "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice soft. 

His Stranger's eyes had flicked up, and the bottomless blue had shone with the light of thousands of stars for the briefest of seconds, making his breath catch, before they had faded back into the normal eyes of a man he knew. 

"Only that it has been... recommended to me, that friends me more often than once a century.  However, if that is the arrangement you wish to keep to, I will not-"

Hob's heart leaped into his throat and he reached out to touch his Stranger's hand, pressing his fingertips to that pale wrist, halting him.  "Friends do meet more than once a century," he agreed, hoping that he did not sound as desperate as he had felt at the moment.  He managed a broader grin.  "My friend, I will meet with you as often as you could possibly make time for me, and find nothing but joy in it.  There is little that could make me happier, I suspect, than the chance to meet with you more regularly, as long as it places no undue weight on you." 

The smile Hob got in return, small and tentative, but shining with emotion had Hob's heart jumping out of his chest to land in the palms of his Stranger without hesitation.  He kept up the eye contact that seemed to linger for several extended seconds before his friend nodded once more.  

"It would please me to meet more often, Hob.  How often would you recommend?"  He paused, before continuing.  "I have not found myself in the possession of a friend before, and would seek your lead in this matter." 

Hob wanted to wrap his friend up in his arms, hug him tight, and probably never let him go.  If those words were not the most heartbreaking thing he had ever heard in his life, he did not know what were.  He managed a smile and another tap of his fingertips against his friend's wrist.  "Least once a year, I would say.  I'd like to meet more often, of course.  Maybe once a month, or once every couple of months?  I don't know what your schedule looks like, my friend, I do not want to impose." 

His friend had pursed his lips and considered before answering and Hob had never wanted to kiss someone more than he did his friend in that moment, to smooth away the considering confusion that was on his face.  He looked grave and serious, but open to the suggestion, which was more than Hob had ever expected of him. 

"Time is rarely linear for me in such a fashion.  However, I can ensure that I do visit you at least once a year, and shall endeavor to visit more often than that." 

Hob nodded rapidly, unable to keep the grin that grew on his face.  "My friend, nothing makes me happier.  I would love to see you sometime in the next year.  Even if it's tomorrow, next week, next month, you are always welcome where I am, and I will welcome you with open arms."  That gained him a piercing look, considering and heavy, and Hob felt a shiver run up his spine at the sheer weight of that look being leveled at him in such a way.  He offered a small shrug but waited for the judgment of such a declaration. 

"You are a good friend, Hob Gadling.  Perhaps far better than I deserve.  I thank you for your willingness to teach me how to be a better one." 

Hob beamed, still grinning.  "I think you are a brilliant friend, for the record.  And I will be very excited to tell you as many stories as you like when you return."  He lit up with excitement.  "Perhaps we can even explore other places outside the pub."  He caught the pointed nod from his staff member and stood up, glad when his friend followed the same cue and they began to make their way to the door.  "If you want to, of course.  We don't have to do anything you don't want!"

His friend paused in consideration once more before he nodded.  "I would like that." 

"Great, amazing," Hob breathed out, nodding eagerly as he brought them to the door and opened it for his friend, stepping out into the cool air, before turning to look at his friend with a rueful grin.  "I guess that this is where we say goodbye for the evening?" 

His friend nodded and Hob once more felt himself utterly pinned into place by those eyes and that gaze, making him gasp and squirm under it, even though he was far too old for that sort of reaction, to say the least. 

"Thank you, for your company, and your friendship, Hob Gadling." 

Hob would never, ever get tired of hearing his stranger say his name, or calling him his friend, especially with the small smile that was on his face.  It felt like something that was made just for him, something that was his, alone.  Something that he would always be more than a little weak for, so he swallowed, and nodded.  "Of course, stranger, any time.  As often as you like." 

His Stranger nodded once more and turned to leave, but Hob tensed when he paused and turned back to look at him. 

His Stranger smiled faintly.  "My name, Hob, is Dream."  He inclined his head.  "I will see you soon."

Hob wanted to cry as he watched his stranger, Dream, his name was Dream, oh he would never forget this moment, for the rest of his life, no matter how long it was, not ever, not after this, stepped into the shadows and disappeared.  He leaned against the New Inn and breathed deep, lifting his eyes to look at the stars.  How had he gotten so lucky?  Not only had his friend returned, he'd been granted a name, and his friendship, it seemed like they would be meeting far more often than he ever imagined possible.  It was everything he ever could have wanted, handed to him on a silver platter. 

If only he could have seen what the future would hold on June 7th in 1989. 

~!~

"Who are you?"

Hob blinked himself awake, slow and lazy, yawning wide as he stretched out on the cool marble that still felt magnificent on his belly and lifted his head just a fraction to look at who had spoke.  He opened one eye properly and looked up at the towering figure.  The sight of his Stranger, of Dream, had him scrambling to his feet and he sat down, his tail curled around his paws and looked up at the truly incredible sight of Dream.  How had this happened?  What was his friend doing here? 

If he told his friend who he was, would he be made to leave?  He had been sitting on the throne of a supposed lord, after all.  Perhaps it would be for the best to see if his friend recognized him, and if he did not, pretend ignorance.  He yawned again and made a small noise.  "I'm here to help someone.  I woke up here, like this.  Was told I would need to help them." 

Dream blinked at him in clear confusion, and Hob stared right back at him, unwilling to break his eye contact or risk being banished by the figure in front of him.  He would stand his ground, and maybe he was right.  Maybe Dream could tell him who he needed to help. 

"You are not going to help them by sitting on my throne," Dream answered, eventually.  "Remove yourself, if you please." 

Hob heard the not-request for what it was and surveyed his options for a few seconds before jumping up onto the arm of the throne, sitting down on it easily.  He continued to stare at his friend and preened when that particular action got him a smile that seemed to come much more readily to his lips here, wherever here was.  His friend sat down beside him, and then there were long fingers sinking into his fur, petting him slow and easy.  It was impossible to keep the purr in his throat, and he tipped himself into the touch with a pleased sound.  

Dream continued to pet him, and Hob felt everything around him go more than a little hazy, but he was warm and cradled by comfortable shadows and when Hob blinked to proper attention again, he realized that he was exactly where he'd wanted to be.  On Dream's lap, sprawled out with long fingers buried in his fur, petting him idly.  He let out a happy sigh and settled properly, glad when Dream resumed his petting after a few minutes.  Beyond him, there was a conversation that Dream was clearly having, one that he should have been listening to, perhaps, but it was entirely superseded by the feeling of Dream continuing to pet him. 

That confirmed it then.  Dream did not recognize him, not by voice, and not by virtue of being able to read his mind, which meant that he got to see Dream around other people and compare notes at a later date.  For the moment though, his friend seemed content to read the book in his lap, pages turning at a steady rate as he worked through whatever book that Hob hadn't  been able to read the title of.  Eventually though, there was a more pointed scratch of his ears, and with a noise, Hob brought his attention to his friend and blinked slowly at him.  If there was something that he wanted, Hob would do his best to fulfill.

"I have work to attend to, as much as I would enjoy passing more time here," Dream told the cat that was not a dream, not a nightmare, and not of his realm at all.  It seemed harmless, and even Lucienne had said she had seen it do nothing more than nap against his throne for the hours that he had been here.  "But I thank you for the pleasure of your company." 

Hob stretched and hopped down off of Dream's lap, his tail swishing as he stretched again and watched the sand begin to swirl around his friend.  The other-ness in the back of his mind began to clamor, and before the sand dissipated, Hob had followed his friend out of the wild rush of sand and onto a patch of green grass that extended behind them and a series of hills that seemed crumpled in on itself.  It looked like the land had been eaten by a whirlpool of some sort, and Hob could feel the ache of the land beneath his paws.  With a noise, he made his way forward toward the bits that he could see. 

Dream watched, curious, as the cat that had somehow followed him to the parts of the Dreaming that had been devastated by the vortex, trotted off and into the areas where his realm was still aching.  He could barely feel the brush of it, even as it explored the devastation.  He had been fixing the areas, one at a time, one after another, until he came to the worst of it, which was always exhausting to repair, but repair it must be.  "You will need to move," he called to the cat, who seemed determined to be in the way, still walking around the edge of the grass that was pulled into a black hole of sorts.  "I need to-"

He paused and tilted his head, because the cat was looking down the hole and didn't seem to show any fear of what was in front of it.  In fact, with an easy leap, it was standing in mind air above the ground that was twisted and curled in on itself.  The cat seemed to turn to look at him proudly, now out of his way, and settled on the invisible platform it had been able to create in the Dreaming, somehow.  Whatever it was, the Dreaming did not consider it a threat, and that, at least, was reassuring.  He had harmed more than enough people and creatures since his return, knowing that he could not easily hurt this one was a relief. 

Dream took a deep breath and reached out for the threads of the Dreaming around him, the ones that had been ripped and torn apart by Rose.  Not intentionally, but by virtue of what she simply was and began to weave them back together.  It was painstaking, exhausting work, repairing and weaving all at once, but he was well aware that if he did not do it together, he would be in a situation where he would need to rip it apart to repair it regardless.  Though he had more power than he had had in longer than he could remember, wielding it with this level of finesse and care was not a thing he had ever thought to practice over the years. 

A delicate bit of weaving pulled his distraction enough to have him dropping threads, and he cursed, about to drop it all and undo it to begin again, when he found that nothing had come unwoven.  The threads were still held, almost precisely in place where they had needed to be. 

Dream pulled his awareness back to the Dreaming around him and saw the cat, standing exactly where Dream had last seen him, save that he was standing now, and shining in his mouth, held taut, were the strands that he had lost his strength on for a moment.  The kitten was staring at him proudly as it continued to hold the threads still for him.  He managed to finish up the rest of what he had been doing and picked up the strands from the kitten and finished the weave and the remains of the repair, until it was at last as it should have been.  Freshly woven and raw dreamstuff for him to mold as he saw fit. 

A meow had him pulling his attention down to the cat who was sitting in front of him, his head tilted up as though he was proud of himself and Dream could not help the smile that curled over his lips.  In an instant, it was easy to slip into another form, a cat, much larger than the one standing in the grass, walking once, then twice, around the cat who had a strange amount of control in his realm. 

"You are magnificent." 

Dream blinked and found himself sitting in front of the orange tabby, studying him curiously, curling his tail around his feet.  "Thank you, for your compliment.  And for your assistance."  He inclined his head briefly and turned to walk away and deeper into the Dreaming, moving through it as easily as he ever had, reacquainting it with himself in this form.  Strangely, the orange tabby was able to follow in his footsteps, almost as though he could see the paths that Dream himself was walking, as he led the way deeper and deeper in, higher and higher up. 

However, as before, the cat behind him, did nothing more than observe and look at everything around him, seemingly curious with everything around him, eager to explore and see what there was to see.  It was strange, even as he felt the presence of Matthew join him, more than once, the other cat seemed entirely unbothered by the presence of his raven.  Matthew, in turn, after giving the cat what could only be considered a glare on any other animal, had congratulated on him finding a friend, before he'd headed back to the castle at Dream's bidding. 

A friend. 

Dream thought of Hob Gadling, living his life in the waking world, enjoying his teaching, his classes, while he worked to repair and organize the Dreaming.  The work ahead of him was extensive, but it had already begun, and with Gault's remaking, more of his creations had come forward, speaking to him for perhaps the first time in their existence.  They had so long been afraid to approach and discuss anything with him before, now it was as though floodgates had opened, and now none of them feared speaking with him as they had in the past.  It would take time, and a great deal of effort, as Lucienne had often reminded him, to rebuild what had been broken, and a great many of his dreams and nightmares were not the same. 

But the Dreaming was better for it. 

And whoever this creature was, it clearly (for now) did not mean him any harm, and did not appear to want to get in his way as he went about his duties, so Dream saw no need to be concerned about such a presence.  At least for the time being. 

Hob was in bliss, staring at the scenery around him.  The spot they had stopped was a grassy meadow, and after pouncing on two different flowers (and feeling the rumble of what felt like the field itself below him in amusement), Hob had stretched out to sun himself until Dream had decided he needed to move to another area of the kingdom.  Instead, he'd talked to a raven that had been larger than him (even with how big he was in cat form) and Hob had watched them curiously as the raven was dismissed and sent back to the castle, before Dream was turning back to him.  He gave a blissful wave of a paw and watched his friend come closer.

"You look comfortable."

Hob wanted to laugh and he rolled in the grass, scratching at his back, before he flopped in a direction that had him facing his friend. He yawned, showing his teeth, before he nodded once. "I am very comfortable. Have you ever laid out in the sun here? There are few things better than lying out in the sun to relax and simply enjoy yourself."

Dream sat down next to the orange tabby and turned to look up at the sun.  "It does not affect me in such a way." 

"Bet that it could if you let it!" Hob challenged, shifting to expose his belly, letting out a purr at how good it felt.  "Give it a try.  Promise I won't tell a soul.  You can go back to being the King of Cats after!''

Dream blinked and opened his mouth to ask how the orange tabby had discovered his title when it was clear that he was barely being teased.  By a cat that he did not understand, that did not belong in the Dreaming, who was not a Dreamer either, something fascinatingly in between that seemed determined to accompany him.  "Why should I?"

"Because it is fun, life is short, and sometimes when everything else is a mess, taking a small pleasure for yourself means everything," Hob challenged, reaching out to press a paw to Dream's shoulder, applying enough pressure to tip him over until he was lying in the grass as well.  "You have been working hard.  Take a few moments to yourself to breathe and to relax.  It is good for you." 

"Good for me," Dream repeated, curious.  He twisted his body a fraction, so he was mimicking the pose of the other cat and waited for whatever was supposed to happen.  After a few seconds, the warmth of the sun above him shone brighter, encouraged by its lord.  He closed his eyes and heard the purr of satisfaction from beside him, and waited.  

He felt it on his paws first, and flexed them, spreading his toes wide, warm tingling enough to have a pleased rumble escaping him.  And after, the warmth seemed to creep over him in low waves, almost as though a blanket were being pulled over him.  Wave after wave of steady comfort, all of it curling around him in an endless supply of warmth.  A much louder purr rumbled from his throat and he tipped his head back, trying to expose as much of himself to the heat as was possible.  

Hob had no idea when his friend had last let himself relax, properly, had really indulged in something that was only for his happiness and comfort, and not a part of his work, or his duty.  But him doing that right this moment was... giving him all sorts of fuzzy feelings he knew well enough to keep to himself.  Dream couldn't be bothered with those, and that would be for the best.   But seeing his friend relax, his body going slack as he enjoyed the sunlight, and clearly, by the sound of his purring, it was better than he expected. 

Hob allowed himself to squeeze a fraction closer, until his paws were brushing against long strands of dark fur pillowed in the grass of the field they sat in.  From there, there was nothing but soaking up the sun, constantly.  It was rather perfect, a dream that he never wanted to end. 

--

Dream came back into awareness to a flutter of familiar feathers.  Matthew.  

He sat up properly and turned to his raven, already missing the relaxation that the orange tabby was still enjoying, but it was clear that Matthew had come bearing a message.  "Is all well, Matthew?"

"Nothing is wrong, boss!  Lucienne wanted me to let you know that responses to your allies are coming in, or flooding in, I think, were the words she used."  Matthew flapped his wings and looked over Dream's shoulder and lowered his voice.  "She has no idea who your uh.  Guest, is, though." 

Dream made a quiet humming sound, low in his throat and met the eyes of the orange tabby who had sat up and was now watching them both.  "He is a guest, and that is enough," he announced, stretching his claws in the soft dirt of Fiddler's Green.  "I will return soon.  Does she need assistance-"

"Oh, no, keep enjoying yourself.  I think she's liking the response that the Dreaming is getting, and she wanted to, you know.  Pass on good news.  Nothing needed, you can keep doing your relaxation routine, or tour, or whatever you have going on here," Matthew said, hopping twice in the grass.  "She also said that you could bring him to tour the library, as an option.  That he might enjoy it." 

Dream nodded once, and watched as Matthew took off and into the sky, heading for the castle, likely to tell Lucienne that he had been found in cat form, sunning himself in Fiddler's Green.  It was disgraceful, he had so much work to do, to finish, but taking a break was also something that Lucienne had been insistent on him needing.  He turned back to the orange tabby who was watching him, and sat down in front of him, and waited, but the cat seemed to content to wait for him to say something, or to make the first move. 

"Who are you?" Dream repeated, narrowing his eyes at the orange tabby.  "Why have you come to the Dreaming?"

"The Dreaming," Hob repeated, his voice soft and awed.  "I was brought here.  And I... am not sure.  Who I am."  The words made him squirm, because telling Dream that he was Hob would have been only partially correct.  He was stuck, trapped in this form, and he knew that he was not only human anymore.  To say it was him would be lying, but nor did this feel entirely accurate.  "I know some things.  But I also know I am stuck.  And I am meant to help someone.  I was hoping that you could tell me who I was meant to help." 

Dream tilted his head, but even with the power of the Dreaming surrounding the cat in front of him, it revealed no additional answers.  There was Endless magic sunk into him, perhaps deeper than it should have been for a normal cat, but the only touch that he could feel upon the cat was his own, and the faintest touches of his siblings.  When the orange tabby stepped closer, and leaned in, nuzzling up against him, he flinched back, hissing.  "I did not give you permission to touch me!"

Hob sat down in front of his friend, watching him with careful eyes.  "So you did not," he agreed.  "I am sorry." 

Dream found himself mollified by the immediate apology and flexed his claws in the ground, leaning against the Dreaming again.  It had... had felt good.  Almost the same as the sunlight soaking into him.  He had not touched anyone else since he had stepped into the Dreaming, save Lucienne's hand, and the briefest of touches of Hob Gadling's fingers to his hand.  "What possessed you to do such a thing?"

"You looked like you could use a hug," Hob said.  He would never have dared to be so forward with Dream as a human, but like this, it was easier to be honest, to say what he thought was the truth.  If Dream tried to leave with his magic, he could simply follow.

Dream blinked at the tabby and tilted his head, confused.  It was not possible that he would have appeared as such, and the orange tabby had spent more hours in his presence, he certainly never would have been able to ascertain that he needed touch.  "How?"

Hob shrugged and flicked his tail across the grass.  "Some things are instinct, I guess.  But I was curious.  Even if you don't need a hug, you could want one.  Do you want one?"

The question (and the way his had been answered) tickled something at the back of Dream's mind, but he dismissed it in the face of the plain and clear question that had been asked of him.  He might not need a hug, but he could certainly want one, and that was a distinct possibility.  Did he want a hug?  More importantly, could he allow himself this momentary weakness, to accept such a touch from a stranger who he did not know, and could have an ulterior motive? 

"What would it do for you?" Dream asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.  The thought that such a weakness could be used against him had come roaring to the front of his mind, and Dream could not deny that the fear was growing by the second.  "Why would you offer it?"

Had Hob been human, he would have whimpered at those words, at the reality and truth of them.  To think that Dream had received so little open kindness in his life that a hug should be treated with suspicion, that it would need to be looked upon with this level of worry was... heartbreaking.  It only made Hob want to hug him more, but admitting any of those things would do the exact opposite and Dream would pull further away. 

"It is comfort, and everyone deserves it.  It is harmless," Hob answered instead, continuing to watch Dream. 

"Harmless," Dream scoffed.  "Foolish, more like." 

"As foolish as resting in the sun and letting it warm you?" Hob challenged, leaning down his front half into pounce position, wiggling his hips as he continued to watch Dream consider that statement.  Now, at least, there was a moment of indecision and confusion.  "When was the last time you played a game?  You worked hard.  Allow yourself to play." 

Dream started incredulously at the orange tabby who looked ready to pounce him, tension in every single one of his muscles.  "A game?  I do not have time for games." 

"You had time for sunning yourself.  And your raven said you could keep enjoying your time," Hob challenged, before leaping and pouncing on Dream, knocking him gently to the ground, before swiftly moving out of the way of his claws, lingering a couple of feet away, about to race away.  "Come play!" 

Dream narrowed his eyes, climbing back up to both his feet.  "This is my realm.  You cannot escape me." 

Hob laughed and danced on the pads of his feet.  "It is not about escape.  It is about chase.  It is about having fun."  He stepped in closer, his tail up and flicking in the air behind him as he pressed his nose to Dream's in a brief touch before pulling back.  "I promise to not make it too easy on you."  That, at least, got the growl that he wanted from Dream, and he leaped away as Dream dashed after him. 

After that, it was a wild chase through the tall grass, flowers, and small forest around them.  Hob changed his approach more than a dozen times, weaving around trees (and then avoiding them when he realized that Dream could step out of the shadows of them), when Dream, at last, pounced and he didn't see it in time, sending him crashing to the field of flowers, Dream on top of him, pinning him down.  He willingly went limp and ceded the win to Dream and then found himself with Dream on top of him and a face buried against his neck as they both caught their breath. 

"Fun," Dream breathed softly.  Like this, he could feel the sunshine bleeding from the other cat, and it was so warm, he wanted to sink into it for as long as he could.  How strange.  "I can't remember the last time I had fun." 

"Good thing that you have me here to help then," Hob said, keeping his voice cheerful, even as he felt his heart turn over in his chest.  "I'll play with you whenever you want.  Bet you'd enjoy it."  When Dream turned to narrow his eyes at him, Hob laughed and pounced on him, knocking him to the dirt again, before he raced off across the meadow.  When he heard Dream racing behind him, only a few seconds later, Hob pushed his body to the limits as they raced around each other.  It took a few tries, but soon he was leaping halfway up trees and using them to change direction, and run circles around Dream, who was getting faster and faster with each pass.  This wasn't going to last and he knew it, but in the meantime, it was fun. 

Hob was once more racing across the meadow when the appearance of a woman, the same one who had been chastizing him for sitting on Dream's throne appeared in the middle of it, looking around for them.  He stopped and turned to look at Dream, only to find himself pounced on, he and Dream rolling, only to land at her feet in a tangle of black and orange fur.  Hob laughed as they untangled themselves and the cat turned to look at the woman with a regal nod of his head.  He dusted himself off and considered going back to the castle, to wait for Dream there when he would return.  He could feel that, at least for now, they were done playing. 

Something tugged at his chest, hard and insistent and Hob paused, sitting down in the meadow as he tried to feel exactly what it was.  The other two were ignoring him, talking quietly to each other, and he took a few more steps forward.  A portal opened up in front of him and he stared at it in confusion, tilting his head to the side curiously.  It was swirling with every color imaginable, and several others that he had never seen before and stepped closer to it.  The tug was coming from inside the portal and he stepped closer to it, watching it carefully.  Dream had told him to be wary, and he was, but there was something telling him that he needed to go through the portal, and find out what was waiting for him on the other side.  Whatever it was, it was something that he needed to... to do. 

He looked behind him at the sight of Dream, now once more in the form that Hob recognized, standing with the person.  Neither of them were paying attention to him any longer and he smiled, giving a nod.  It was enough that he had managed to get Dream to play with him for a little while.  That was enough.  At least for now.  Hob turned back to the portal and leaped through it, feeling it close behind him. 

A mad swirl of colors surrounded him and laughed in delight, making him twirl and chase the spark that had appeared.  There was no path back to the Dreaming, where Dream and the woman had been standing, but that was all right.  He felt proud to have gotten Dream to smile, and to play, at least a little.  It had been good for him, he had no doubt.  Instead, he turned his full attention to the colors surrounding him and felt the insistent tugging at the center of his chest.  He sat down on the cascade of colors and let out a loud meow, but all at once, he was a human again, and the light around him was blinding as he stumbled. 

"Shit, oh, what the..." Hob clenched his eyes shut, a headache having immediately burst behind his temples now that he was a human again.  The part of him that he knew was no longer human in the back of his mind was tugging at him, trying to pull him back into the mind of the cat, where it was safer and far less chaotic.  "Who, what are you?" 

"I aM mE, oF cOuRsE!" 

The voice was a discordant bell and a chime all at once, and Hob managed a smile for her.  "Of course you are.  Can you tell me who I am?  And why I'm here?" 

"If I hAd LeFt YoU, DrEaM wOuLd HaVe FiGuReD oUt WhO yOu WeRe.  Or YoU wOuLd HaVe ToLd HiM.  YoU cAn'T lEt HiM sUsPeCt YoU.  ThAt WoUlD rUiN eVeRyThInG!"

Hob blinked in confusion against the weight of his hand and lifted it a few inches off his face to look at the young woman who was, sitting upsidedown, in mid air.  He stared at her for several long seconds before he shrugged.  Wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever seen by far.  "Dream was going to figure me out?  Then I suppose I shouldn't go back."  The words made him sad, even as he said them, because wanted to go back and see Dream again.  Wanted to go back and play with him again, see if he could convince his stoic friend that it was his turn to be chased. 

"No, No, No, No YoU mUsT!  YoU mUsT gO bAcK!  YoU hAvE tO hElP!  PlEaSe, YoU hAvE tO hElP!"

Hob lifted his hand, and the woman in front of him didn't move, but her face had twisted to give him a frown that was comically large.  "I don't... he's my friend.  I don't know how to help him, like you said.  I don't even know what's wrong with him.  How am I supposed to know?" 

"PlAy!  LaUgH!  YoU dId iT tOdAy!  ALl Of tHoSe tHiNgS!" 

Hob swallowed and considered that, leaning back against the wall that solidified into place.  "I can try," he agreed.  "But you said he's going to recognize me.  How can I help him with anything when he's going to know that it's me?"

The dancing light in front of him around the young woman paused to consider that, and Hob waited for the answer that he knew wasn't going to come.  No matter what he did, or how he tried, if Dream was going to recognize him, there really would be no stopping his friend from being furious with him, and that was the last thing he wanted.  "Is it him I'm supposed to help?" he asked, meeting her eyes. 

She nodded, chewing on her lip.  "I gAvE iT tO yOu.  IT's GoOd FoR yOu.  YoU'lL LiKe iT.  YoU nEeD iT, tO hElP hIm.  He WoN't LiStEn, OtHeRwIsE.  He MiGhT sTiLl NoT LiStEn."  She swung her feet in the air and sighed.  "He'S sO sTuBbOrN aNd I lOvE hIm So MuCh.  BuT hE dOeSn'T hAvE fUn AnYmOrE.  I miSs WhEn hE uSeD tO hAvE fUn." 

There was something heartbreakingly sad about the declaration that Dream didn't have fun any longer, especially when it was clear that that was all that she wanted for him.  Hob swallowed and looked up at her.  "What if you told him?  I'm sure that he'd-"

"No!  He DoEsN't LiStEn.  EsPeCiAlLy NoT tO mE."  She looked at him.  "He LiStEnEd tO yOu." 

Hob pushed his fingers through his hair.  Dream had listened to him, and for what reason, he had no idea.  Dream had had no reason, but he... Tilting his head, he looked up at the young woman again.  "You said you gave me something.  What did you give me?" 

She grinned and did a flip in mid air.  "It WaA a SeEd!  I'vE bEeN hIdInG iT fOr a LoNg TiMe.  IT uSeD tO bE mInE, aNd iT sTiLl iS, bUt nOw iT's YoUrS tOo, bEcAuSe YoUr GrOuNd Is FeRtiLe, yOu'Ll Be ThE bEsT fOr iT, aNd yOu cAn UsE iT tO hElP DrEaM!"

"That didn't answer my question," Hob said, only to find that she was standing directly in front of him and had reached out to press a finger to his chest, making him inhale sharply under the pressure of it.  "What kind of a seed?  What did it... do to me?" 

She sighed and flopped over a chair that had not been there moments earlier.  "He'S nOt CuRiOuS aNyMoRe.  He'S tOo oLd.  He KnOws EvErYtHiNg, He'S sUrE oF iT.  He NeEdS tO bE cUrIoUs, So I wAnTeD tO gIvE hIm YoU!  So He WoUlD bE cUrIoUs!" 

That answer wasn't any more enlightening, but Hob could see some of the intent behind it, at least.  It was curious that she would have picked him for this, because surely there had to be better.  "And you want me to make him curious?"

She shook her head, bells tinkling in her hair in a way that had Hob smiling despite himself. 

"YoU'rE cUrIoUs, He CaN't AlSo Be CuRiOuS, hE's DrEaM!  YoU nEeD tO rEmInD hIm To Be CuRiOuS.  He LiKeS iT, hE jUsT dOeSn'T rEmEmBeR iT, aNd I mIsS hIm NoT rEmEmBeRiNg iT!"

Hob couldn't shake the feeling that exactly what he was was in that answer, but it was still out of reach and didn't make enough sense.  He sighed and nodded again.  "How do I... switch forms?  So I can be human again?" 

"CaN't, I'm KeEpInG yOu-YoU hErE!  SaFe ThOuGh, I pRoMiSe, JuSt HaVe To KeEp BeInG cUrIoUs!" 

Hob's heart jumped into his throat.  "I need to be able to be human again, what if Dream comes to visit me, he might think that I've left!"  Fear swamped over him and he moved closer to her and met both her eyes, the green one flickering to blue for an instant.  "Please, he can't think I've abandoned him if he comes to see me.  He can't." 

She nodded once.  "VeRy WeLl." 

Hob relaxed and sighed in relief.  "Only when he visits me, if he does, I promise.  I'm fine being a cat the rest of the time.  I'm having fun with it."  That, at least, had her smiling and her eyes were shining with the same light as before.  He heard the opening of a portal behind him and looked back over to it.  "Why... are you helping me?  Him?  Why?" 

A sad smile crawled over her face and she wrapped her arms around herself, a multi-colored shadow joining her.  "I kNoW tHiNgS.  DrEaM hAs tO sToP.  Or He WiLl SaY gOoDbYe." 

Another shiver of fear rolled up Hob's spine as he stared at her.  "Goodbye?"  She gave another sad nod.  "Goodbye forever?"  That made her sniffle and Hob was about to demand more information, when she pushed her hands out at him, shoving insistently at him toward the portal.  He landed, once more on four feet and looked around him.  It was not the same field as before, there was cobblestone under his paws, so Hob took a deep breath and started walking, one paw after another.  His mind was spinning, the thought of Dream saying goodbye, having to say goodbye in a way that was permanent, had something dark twisting deeper in his chest. 

That did mean one thing for certain.  Dream was in trouble, and she, whoever she was, was right about him needing help.  And there was very little (if anything at all) that Hob would not do to protect his friend and keep him safe.  Even if it meant putting himself in danger. 

Weaving between the legs of creatures that were appearing steadily, Hob kept going forward, the sun above streaming down on them, lulling him with its heat.  He wanted nothing more than to stop and stretch out to enjoy and soak up the sunshine.  But he didn't know how much time he had, or how long he had to make a difference with his friend.  He would need to go to work.  And make him... curious.  Somehow. 

The crowd was getting thicker and thicker, and with a sigh of frustration, Hob jumped up onto a railing and began walking along it instead, only to realize that he was crossing a massive bridge, and there was a line, all of it heading straight into Dream's castle.  It appeared to be lit up and decorated, as though celebrating, and he stopped to sit on the railing and observe it.  The crowd he'd been walking to was wandering in steadily, all of them being checked by the Guardians, to head inside to whatever awaited them there. 

Hob wrinkled his nose and started to make his way toward the castle once more when all of the sudden, the raven Dream had been talking to before, landed in front of him and eyed him.  He tensed and drew his claws out, glaring right back at the raven. 

"So you're finally back, are you?"

That was an odd question.  Hob tilted his head and stared at the raven.  "Was I gone for long?"

"He was worried about you, you know.  All he saw was you disappearing into a portal, and then you were gone.  He's been looking for you," the raven clacked his beak.  "You made him sad, and I hope that that makes you sad too!  He has enough to deal with, he doesn't deserve to-"

"Wait, wait," Hob interrupted.  "I don't understand.  I was being summoned, I had to go.  Where... how long have I been gone?” 

The raven cawed.  "At least a month, by my reckoning.  S'how long it took us to pull this whole party together.  Who are you, anyway?" 

"I, I don't know," Hob answered, the question frustrating him more than ever.  "But I didn't mean to stay away for so long.  I'll go find him, right away!" 

Coiling his legs under him, Hob jumped over the raven, who squawked and startled all the party goers by him on the bridge, and he began to run along the railing.  It was miraculously free of any interference, but when he came to the front of the line, the same woman was there, with the guardians of the gate hovering over her.  Hob went to run right past all of them, eager to find Dream, to be near him, and he could feel the confusion and curiosity of everyone watching him as he ran by, but he couldn't go through the door, it was protected and Hob slashed at it, then looked up at the woman, who was giving him a judgmental look. 

"So you did decide to return after all," she said, looking down at him.  "I hope you give him a proper apology.  He deserves one." 

Hob's heart was pounding, and he barely felt the barrier lower before he was racing into the castle, once more racing past feet, dresses, and shoes, dodging each one of them as expertly as he could, until he at last broke free, standing on the bottom stair of a large, winding staircase.  He took a moment to pant, trying to catch his breath, his head swimming with how far he had run in the past few minutes alone.  The marble was cool beneath him and all he wanted was to curl up on it and sleep and rest, catch his breath before he had to see his friend.  But if Dream still thought he had been abandoned, Hob wasn't going to leave him for another single second. 

Taking another deep breath, Hob heard the gasps around the crowd, and their rising confusion as he started to race up the stairs.  The buzz in the room about them, curious about what he was up to, was growing louder and louder by the time he reached the platform where Dream was spread out, one leg out in front of him, an arm resting on his knee, clearly in repose.  Galaxy black eyes, with stars at their center fell to him and Hob shuddered under their cold disinterest, before they widened in surprise.  Hob didn't wait for a single second longer, he launched himself into his friend's lap, and pressed as close as he could, nuzzling up against his chest. 

"You're back." 

The quiet surprise in Dream's voice was more painful than Hob had expected, and he pressed his head closer, nuzzling into Dream's clothes again and again, trying not to climb him with his claws, but needing to get closer.  "Course I'm back," he muttered with an annoyed meow.  "Never meant to leave in the first place, got summoned."  Those words had Dream tensing beneath him, but Hob didn't move.  "You were busy, I couldn't say goodbye, and tell you I'd be back." 

For some reason, those words had Dream relaxing under him and Hob was glad when a cool hand came up and cradled his body easily so he could rest more easily against Dream's chest with a happy sigh, continuing to nuzzle into him.  "Didn't realize the summon would take that long.  I couldn't feel the time passing, not here or there.  I would have come back sooner if I'd known." 

"It's all right," Dream said, his voice a soft murmur.  "But you have a great many people curious about you now, little one.  If you wished to keep a low profile, this was not the way to do it." 

Hob could feel how curious all of them were, about what he was, because he was not one of them, and the answer to that had him shaking his head.  He didn't know what he was, outside the fact that he had a seed of some sort, and that he was here to help Dream be curious and not have to say goodbye.  The messaging was still a jumble in his head and didn't quite make sense, he needed to sit down and think about it more.  He had to help Dream be curious, that much had been clear.  How he was supposed to do that though, that he had not figured out yet.  

On the other hand, everyone being curious about him, might distract them from being focused on Dream, and that was something that his friend would likely prefer, if he had to guess.  But right now, he would worry about all of them being curious about him later.  He needed to focus on Dream.  And to do that, he would need to find out exactly why they were having this party.  "I'll figure that out later, I'm not worried about it," he admitted, smiling at Dream, nuzzling into his chest again.  "But for now, I'm not going anywhere.  So clue me in on this party of yours.  What's the reason for it?  Are we celebrating?  Or are we doing something else?"

Dream hummed and lifted his eyes to the steadily streaming in guests and felt the weight of all their presence piling into the castle with a soft exhale.  It was a weight he was well able to bear, but he was more aware of it, ever since his capture.  He felt all of their touches, and more than that, he felt their daydreams of being able to take something from him, a piece of him for themselves and it rankled in a way ill-fitting clothing did to many Dreamers.  It was not a sensation he could chase away.  The daydreams of the cat in his lap though, of comforting him, of playing again, of lounging in the sun, they were a balm and a safe harbor in a sea of other daydreams. 

"I was gone for a very long time," Dream admitted, his voice soft.  "In that time, my kingdom crumbled.  I have been rebuilding it, and though there are places that still need to be tended to, it is repaired.  I have invited allies, enemies, and those who would remain neutral to see that the Dreaming is restored.  That I am restored.  It is a threat and a promise in one.  A promise to allies and a threat to enemies."  He inhaled again, feeling the pulse of the power that he had absorbed from his ruby.  "There are not as many allies as there were once before."  Why he'd told a cat he didn't recognize, and didn't know, that information was beyond him. 

Maybe one day Dream's quiet admittance, things that he would never say during their meetings (of that, he was certain), and Hob wanted nothing more than to wrap him in a proper hug and tell him that he would always have his support.  Not that it meant much of anything in a room of creatures of every possible type.  But it meant something, he would like to think.  He looked up at Dream and the tired expression on his face, and how he looked out at the crowd.  He looked out at the crowd and a spark of something started to grow in him, and the idea of spreading a little bit of mischief, something that might make Dream laugh, seemed like the best way to proceed. 

"Well," Hob said with a huff and a shake of himself.  "Who do you dislike the most, I'll go bother them." 

Dream's eyes widened and he looked down to the cat.  "What?" 

"You heard me," Hob answered, giving a loud meow.  "Let me go bother them.  They won't even know I'm there, I bet.  I can practice slipping into the shadows like you were before.  Then no one would notice." 

Dream stared at the cat sprawled across his chest in bemusement, shaking his head.  "Such a thing is hardly necessary and would only cause upset." 

Hob flicked Dream's shoulder with his tail and squirmed in his arms.  "It's not about necessary, it's about fun," he said, looking back down at the crowd.  He had no doubt that some of the factions present had to hate each other, and that meant the opportunity for so much fun and chaos.  "What can I say, I'm curious.  A little chaos never hurt anyone." 

"Curious," Dream repeated, his voice soft as he looked at the cat who seemed eager to bound forward and leave some sort of trail of mischief.  "I suppose that you are, aren't you?"  The piercing brown eyes of the kitten met his and he found himself pinned in place under them, watching in confusion as the orange tabby nodded once.  "You will not actually injure anyone?" 

"I promise," Hob said easily.  "No actual injuries.  However, I do not promise that they will have a good time."  Looking out among the crowd, he could already see how easy it would be to do exactly what he had promised.  "But you must make me a promise in return, lord of this realm."  Dream's focus sharpened on him and Hob could feel the worry, but he nodded readily enough.  Hob smiled at him and winked, his tail flicking up behind him.  "You don't let them know it's me."  The request had clearly surprised his friend, by the widening of his eyes, and Hob bounded out of his arms and back down the stairs at a rapid pace, bleeding into the crowd immediately.  He kept his ears peeled, listening as he moved between the swishes of dresses and feet of all shapes and sizes. 

It was strange, he was curious about all of them, but none of them seemed to notice him as he slipped between them and listened to their conversations about Dream.  Some spoke of attacking him, others avoided him and would not risk his wrath for anything.  Others spent time speaking with others, but every time groups or pairs would sneak into the more private rooms, Hob followed them, curious, and overheard more than one hinted at plot against his friend.  Only being a cat did not lend to any sort of lethality, or ability to do much.  However, he discovered that he could lock doors, and so he did, trapping them in the places they had slunk off to, to be dealt with later. 

By the time he'd made two full circuits of the room, there was quite a bit of confusion about what was going on, and Hob could feel himself feeding off of it, continuing to weave the tiny little bits of chaos that he had promised Dream, when there was a gong, and the room abruptly fell silent.  Hob looked up and saw Dream descending from where he had been sitting on the stairs, waiting at the base of the staircase.  There was an announcement and a name that he did not catch, focused as he was to get back to Dream, and to remind him that no matter who this was, he had an ally.  The crowd was parting for whoever had just joined them and Hob fought down the urge to growl as he finally broke out of the crowd a few feet from Dream. 

He sat down in the middle of the cleared space and turned to face the towering guest who was gliding forward.  Their wings were leathery and spread, but they wore an angelic white, with platinum blonde curls hovering around their smiling face.  Without being told, Hob had no doubt that this was an enemy of Dream's, and not only an enemy, perhaps the one who threatened him most.  Hob stood and took a proper step between them, biting down the growl that wanted to escape, and sat down once more, far larger than a housecat now, with much, much larger claws, and even sharper teeth. 

"Well, well, Morpheus, this is very interesting." 

Dream's eyes lowered to the orange tabby that was now the size of a panther, and had planted himself very solidly between him and the Morningstar.  He had made no threatening moves, save his growl, and had not moved, even when he appeared to be directly impeding the path of the Morningstar.  "He is his own.  Not of the Dreaming," he answered, looking down at the cat once more. 

Lucifer laughed in delight.  "Of course he is, though I am not surprised you don't recognize him," they chided, turning their attention back to the cat.  "Such a curious thing you are.  It is a wonder.  Where did you get that Seed, hm?  There should be no more of them." 

Hob felt a flood of uncomfortable ice rush down his back, but he held his ground, continuing to stare at the creature in front of him.  Their expression twisted when he didn't respond, only kept his tail swishing against the marble behind him.  But if they knew that he had a seed, and precisely what it was, that wasn't going to end well for him, so he should probably run.  "I was given it," he answered, tilting his chin up.  He was not about to lie to the creature and risk giving offense.  He had been given the Seed, whatever it was and whatever it meant. 

"So you were," Lucifer agreed, tilting their head.  "Morpheus, did you happen to have another child and called us all to celebrate the lucky occasion?  Should have been far more clear in your communication if that was the case, of course.  We would have brought gifts." 

Behind him, Hob could feel how tense Dream was, and how worried at the same time.  Dream was afraid of this person in front of him, and knowing that he was afraid here, at the very seat of his power, where he would be strongest, was enough to have Hob approaching with caution.  But it was also clear that this creature had some knowledge of what he was and how he had become what he was, which meant that he could get some answers.  "I am no child of his.  I am here, because I wish to be here.  I am what I am, and have my mission, same as any other." 

All true words, without giving a single lick of detail.  Dream would be proud of him, he thought. 

Lucifer's eyes narrowed.  "You should be careful, young Curiosity.  You are not yet fully grown into that Seed, and were you to make enemies..." they shrugged.  "It is not a wise move for an Endless so young." 

Hob took all of that information, shocking as it was, and threw it into the back of his mind to worry about later.  Now, the creature in front of him was trying to throw him off kilter and potentially risk Dream.  That he could not allow.  "Of course, though, you know what they say about Curiosity, don't you?" He approached the creature in front of him and yawned, showing off his teeth and boredom all at once.  "Satisfaction brought me back.  So perhaps it is not me that needs to worry, as long as I can be satisfied, hm?" 

With that, he nodded once more to the creature and moved past them, heading down the way that had parted for them.  Hob could feel them watching him, and with a flood of power that nearly had him gasping, he could feel their curiosity about who, and what, precisely he was as he walked away.  It was nearly enough to knock him off his feet, but he made it to a red velvet chair that he curled up on and settled into to watch the proceedings from. 

But at least now, now he knew who he was.  Hob settled far more firmly into the chair and the sense of rightness that fell onto his shoulders.  Curiosity.  He was Curiosity, and the Seed, it was something that made him similar to Dream.  Not the same, he knew that, and could feel that.  But something similar.  Something familiar that would perhaps give comfort to Dream.  The mission from the young woman made more sense by the moment, because it was possible that she was an Endless as well, just like Dream, and just like him. 

Now that he had been named by the creature in white (who thankfully did not stay long after speaking with Dream, and left with some of the more rowdy members of the crowd), Hob was approached by dozens others, who stopped in front of his chair to introduce themselves.  It was an odd experience, but now there was a great deal of attention on him and he normally wouldn't have wanted that, but he could breathe in their curiousness the closer that they got, and it was heady, like a really excellent wine.  After a while though, exhaustion was catching up with him, and he climbed off of the chair and went in search of Dream, his form shifting back to the smaller size that allowed him to move through the crowd much easier than before. 

He was more readily recognized now, several people calling his name.  All of them were curious to know more about him, to speak with him, to know what he had said to Lucifer (and that was one more thing to panic over later, that he would worry about), how close he was to Dream, where he had come from, and whether he truly was one of the Endless (whatever that meant, though the rightness of that pulsed through him at every wondering), and how he had arrived at the party the way he did.  Hob had no doubt that it was exhausting, not only for him, but for Dream, who appeared to be moving through the crowd without interacting.  Seemed like they were both done with this part of sorts, so Hob made a beeline for his friend, reaching him in an instant. 

Dream stopped in his tracks and stared down at the orange tabby, Curiosity, if Lucifer was to be believed about the cat having an Endless Seed in it, and read the frustration coming off it in waves.  He waited, staring down at the cat, until it abruptly turned and began to lead him to one of the other hallways that he had seen a great many people disappear down.  The sounds of the party faded behind him and at the same time, some of the tension fell out of his shoulders the less and less eyes were on him, until they were alone and standing on a balcony together, Curiosity sitting beside his hand as he stared out across the Dreaming. 

"Should check on the people I locked in rooms in the hallway on the way down here.  All of them were whispering one plot or another against you.  Figured locking them in the rooms would scare them enough to think that you were listening," Hob said, licking one of his paws before he settled himself easily against the banister and stretched out on it.  Dream's gaze had snapped to him and he shrugged as he focused on the stone under his claws.  "Was curious what they were getting up to and this was a good way to keep them from doing it in a more public forum." 

"I see," Dream answered, turning to look at the hallway behind them.  Interesting that Curiosity had aided him in such a way, when the Endless were forbidden from helping each other.  Though he could feel it now, what Lucifer had pointed out, because it had received a huge surge of power, the Endless Seed in Curiosity was new.  Young, a very young child as his siblings had once been to him.  He smiled faintly, remembering a time when they had all worked to learn the full force of their function, such as it was.  Before they had settled into their roles and the parts that they had to play, such as they were.  Heroes and villains did not matter, it was what they were, what they always were.  What they always had been and what they would be, despite attempts to change, they could not.  They just... were. 

Exhaustion was heavy, and it lingered.  The idea of threatening them, of ensuring they knew precisely how powerful he was now was not something he wanted, though he knew well that that was precisely what was required in this situation.  Curiosity had done him the courtesy of protecting him, in the ways that he could.  The last thing he should do is waste that kindness.  So few would think to help him in such a way, and Curiosity, in particular did not deserve his anger. 

"Actually, you know what, never mind.  Leave them to me," Hob said, sitting up on the railing, wrapping his tail around himself.  Now that he had a moment of privacy, Dream looked so much more tired than he ever could have imagined of his friend and it was worrying.  Beyond worrying, even.  "I think I know a way to take care of them."  He reached out and gently touched his paw to Dream's hand, drawing his attention once more.  "Do you need a moment of comfort?" 

Dream closed his eyes and turned his face away from the cat who had asked for... a reason he didn't even understand.  To offer him comfort, the same way that, perhaps, Hob Gadling had daydreamed of offering him comfort.  A friend, warm drinks, quiet laughter, and company, enjoying it and simply relaxing together. "What comfort would you offer me?" he asked, looking down at Curiosity.  "There is little that I can offer you, even one in your position, Curiosity." 

Hob let out a quiet purr and stepped over Dream's hand, one paw at a time, until he was standing on the railing between Dream's hands.  He settled himself carefully and then leaned back so he was pressed against Dream and began to purr louder.  It was a matter of moments before there was a strong arm wrapped around him, holding him in place, and Hob closed his eyes, sinking back against his friend, keeping up the steady purring.  Perhaps this wouldn't do more than bother his friend, but if it could bring some small measure of comfort then it was what he would do without hesitation.  He'd been so jumpy about touch, so wary of being touched and comforted, anything that he was willing to accept was better than nothing, and this was no exception. 

He remained pressed up against Dream, long fingers holding him so carefully, so gently, until eventually, there was the sound of flapping wings beside them.  Hob opened one eye to glare at the raven who was standing on the balcony, watching the both of them.  Hob wanted to squirm, but he felt the tension return to Dream, even though he'd been steadily relaxing ever since he'd stepped away from everything that awaited. 

"Yes, Matthew?" Dream asked, lifting his eyes to his raven.  Curiosity had made no movement against him and was still breathing in deep and exhaling those steady, comforting purrs.  They seemed to resonate through his entire being, a frequency that he had never felt before and it was enough to have him continuing to relax.  But now he would need to return to his duties, to those he had left behind at the party.  "They are missing me inside, I would assume?" 

"There are a few who clocked that you snuck outside, yeah.  But they also thought that you might be dealing with all those locked up folks, so no one has started misbehaving.  Luce is starting to get twitchy though, so it might be good to head back." 

Hob fought down the urge to sigh and glared at the raven as he pressed himself tighter against Dream for a brief moment before he hopped down off the balcony and over Dream's arm.  "I'll take care of the ones who are locked in their rooms," he called, and made his way back into the castle.  If he was Endless, based on what everyone at the party had been saying, he held some sort of power, and that meant it was time for him to figure out how to use it.  Especially if it would help to keep Dream safe, and make sure people weren't taking advantage of him. 

Dream watched the orange tabby go, heading down the hallway, his steps silent as he slipped into the shadows. 

"How is he able to do that?  Thought only you could do that," Matthew said, turning to look at his boss.  There was a strange expression on his face, as he watched.  "I know he's supposed to be like, partially Endless, or something, from what everyone was gossiping.  But this is your realm." 

"Indeed," Dream agreed.  It was strange, how easily the Dreaming responded to Curiosity, almost as though it knew him and knew it wouldn't be harmed by him.  That he and it were safe in each other's hands.  It was a level of mastery over the Dreaming that not even Calliope had ever been able to manage.  For it to intrinsically obey something such as locking the doors on those who would do harm to Dream was... fascinating.  And very curious.  His lips twitched and he offered his shoulder to Matthew.  "Come, let us find Lucienne, and we will see what needs to be done for the remainder of our guests." 

~!~

Hob took his time, going from room to room that had been locked, facing the people who had been in them, who were clearly terrified, exactly as he had wanted them to be.  Whether they thought Dream had been the one to lock them up didn't matter.  All that did matter was that they wouldn't mess with him.  That was all he truly cared about and making sure that Dream was safe, that he would be safe and he wouldn't be taken advantage of by these ridiculous bastards who thought they could. 

It was easier than it should have been, that was for sure.  Stopping in the center of the room, staring at each of them.  Saying nothing, watching as they babbled in fear, exposing themselves and those they had been working with.  They were so eager to speak that Hob was almost having trouble keeping up with it, because they divulged their secrets without hesitancy.  There was no loyalty in any of them, and by the time they left the room, racing past him and giving wide, large berth, he had everything he needed to ensure that Dream would be safe. 

Exerting his power on them had been an accident, it had been something he'd considered, how to use Curiosity to a lethal avenue, and it was far easier than he expected.  It was about being curious for long enough that he could influence them to follow that curiosity to wherever and whatever end it had.  Several of the endings were not positive, and Hob had to bite down the urge to bear his teeth as he imaged their ends at the hands of their own curiosity.  It was so interesting what they wondered, and a shove of his power, that curiosity became overwhelming, their sole focus and an action they had to take, not something they simply wondered at. 

Finishing with each of them, and returning to the now decidedly thinned out party, Hob debated where he would sit and watch them all.  After a few minutes weaving between all the remaining dancers, he made his way up to the platform where Dream had been sitting and reclining on earlier.  He flopped onto the marble with a happy groan, glad for the cool stone against his belly, yawning wide as he settled in to relax and watch the rest of the party slowly fade with the latest night bleeding into the dawn.  It had been almost high noon when he arrived, no wonder he was running tired.  Understandable, of course, and he knew that Dream would not begrudge him finding some rest. 

Hob yawned again and let his eyes fall shut, his focus on Dream at last fading. 

~!~

"Boss?" Matthew asked, flapping his wings.  Lord Morpheus had been standing on the step below the landing, looking at the cat spread out in his favorite sitting spot for a good couple of minutes now (he'd counted!), and hadn't moved.  Hadn't tried to move past him, or wake him up, or do... anything.  Other than stand there.  "You know you can just ask him to move, right?" 

"He is sleeping," Dream reproached.  "And he performed a great many actions that will safeguard the Dreaming in the months and years to come.  He has proven himself a staunch ally and does not... deserve to be woken from a rest he has so rightfully earned." 

Matthew yawned.  "Well, I'll leave you here to stare at him, I'm going to go catch some shut eye." 

"You do not need to sleep, Matthew," Dream reminded, looking up at his raven.  "I have said this to you." 

"Oh I know, but that doesn't mean that I don't like taking it when I can," Matthew said with a flap of his wings, launching himself into the air, heading for the door at the very top of the staircase. 

Dream returned his attention to Curiosity, watching him carefully.  He was a strange ally, to have stood up to Lucifer without fear he had, to hold court in the way that he had, and then to trap those who would have hurt him and punished them in a fashion that even Dream approved of.  He had never met the like of it, and it was... strange.  There had never been anyone else to side with him so thoroughly, especially not someone from the Endless family. 

Considering for another few minutes, Dream knelt down and carefully gathered the orange tabby into his arms, before continuing to carry him up the top of the staircase.  Curiosity had done nothing but nestle deeper into his arms with a low, pleased purr, and it was similar enough to earlier that Dream had shuddered in memory as they walked together.  Once he reached the top, he opened the door to his room and closed it behind him, keeping the form of Curiosity in his arms, and made his way to the balcony and the lounger that had been there for weeks now so he could watch over his realm, even while he attempted to finish recovering himself. 

There was an easy comfort to be taken from the weight in his arms, as Curiosity continued to purr and rumble low in his sleep while he stared out across the Dreaming, repairing small pieces that required minimal focus as he watched.  It was the work of nothing to have a forest spring up there, for a lake to be made there, for gravity to be inverted there, to give Dreams and Nightmares new places to play and explore where they could best do their work.  Where imagination could run rampant and children could have dreams of lights and colors and sounds that were nothing but softness and kindness.  Dream lost himself in focusing on the Dreaming, on ensuring that it was everything that it should have been and handled when Curiosity stirred in his arms.  Pulling himself back, disconnecting himself, it was far more of a struggle than it should have been, but he managed it and refocused on the tabby in his arms who was blinking at him in confusion. 

"Hello Curiosity."

"Hello Dream," Hob answered, yawning and snuggling back into his arms once more.  "Or am I supposed to call you Lord Morpheus here?  That's what they all called you."

It was a wonder that Curiosity knew his real name, but perhaps as a being who was partially Endless, he had simply known and had been kind enough not to use it to worry him.  There was some truth that such a use would have concerned him, would have made him suspect that he was being used, or attacked, to being taken advantage of.  To have it be something more simple felt baffling, but there was a great deal of truth to it, even like this. 

"You have not told me, what it is that you are here for," Dream said, reaching out to pet the cat in his arms, stroking through it's soft fur repeatedly, the gesture soothing for both of them as Curiosity began to purr again, and arch into each of his touches.  It was pleasant for both of them and not something that he wanted to stop.  It was... comforting, to offer this comfort to a new Endless. 

"I'm supposed to help someone," Curiosity said. "That is what I have been charged to do.  And it looks like you could use company, even if you do not need my help.  So here I am." 

"Here you are," Dream repeated, staring down at the young Endless.  It was disconcerting, to see another Endless (though not a full one as his siblings were, more like what Orpheus had been, a facet, a fragment of one of them, existing as its own being), but there was no danger to it, at least not that he could see.  "I would not have you risking yourself for me, little one.  I am well-versed in how to protect myself and how to keep my realm safe."  The sneer and shout of Roderick Burgess should not have echoed in the back of his mind, but Dream inadvertently tightened his fingers in Curiosity's fur and had to force himself to release it and let go so he didn't hurt the other Endless.  "Or at least I did, once." 

"You protect your realm very well.  I didn't even have to threaten those who were plotting against you tonight.  All I had to do was look at them, and they remembered they had seen me with you.  It was enough, and they were cowed almost immediately," Hob said, arching into the firmer touch of Dream's hand once more.  "And if anyone were to try and hurt you, they would have to deal with me.  I know I'm still learning, but I am not a kitty without claws."

Dream snorted.  "It is true," he agreed. 

Hob fought down the urge to grin like a loon when Dream snorted like that, the laugh a clear indication of Dream finding him funny, something he was already addicted to the thought of.  Completely unreasonable, but his friend deserved to laugh more.  He deserved to laugh as much as he could, and Hob would do everything in his power to try and make that happen.  "Was the night a success then?  You'd be able to judge far more than me." 

"I doubt that," Dream answered.  "You spent a great deal of the evening among all of the people there.  Many of them did not see you.  I suspect, oh curious one, that you heard a great many more things than even I did, despite it being within the halls of a castle in the Dreaming.  Besides the threats that you so readily dealt with.  What did you hear?" 

Hob settled in and sprawled himself across Dream's lap so he could expose more of himself to be pet.  A fact that Dream realized almost instantly, for the length of his palm began to stroke up and down his side without hesitation.  He melted with a happy sigh and began to talk.  He started with Lucifer and the retinue they had arrived with, who had clearly been scoping out the place in case of an attack, but they hadn't expected him to keep biting at their ankles.  It had made them jumpy, and more than one of the other factions had picked up on that and continued to poke at the demons.  It had distracted them from causing mischief for Dream, which was precisely what he wanted. 

The others, the minor gods, had seemed eager to try to establish some sort of dominance and stating that had earned him another of those preciously low chuckles that he was quickly going to become addicted to if Dream wasn't careful.  Hob purred loudly as fingers dipped into scruff and began to scratch there, his whole body becoming something decidedly more liquid.  It was a clearly a comfort to the both of them and he wasn't going to make Dream stop for anything.  After that, he went into the different fae (because there had been several different sets of them, far more divided than any of the others). 

"You are a far better spy than I would have expected, Curiosity," Dream praised, looking down at him.  The information that he'd been given would inform his actions for the next several months, including Lucifer's plan for an attack.  Though he was not surprised to hear of that, considering what had happened in the retrieval of his helm, it put Lucifer's visit into a much starker light.  Especially when Curiosity had so clearly aligned with him.  "You should be careful though.  Aligning with me will gain you enemies."

Hob hummed, biting down the usual response that he would be more than fine, that he was older than he looked, but that would not work here.  "You are the only one I wish to be allied with.  As long as you would count me amongst them, please consider me one of your allies who would never forsake you for another." 

Dream blinked in surprise down at the tabby who had made the declaration as a statement of fact and stared in confusion.  "And what have I done to earn such undying loyalty from one such as yourself?"

"Without you, I don't exist," Hob said, the words escaping him before he had more than an instant to think about them.  Even as he said it, it was the truth, and it resonated through his entire being.  "Curiosity and Dreams.  If you are not curious about the world, then your dreams would never be far and broad reaching.  And without dreams to give voice to your imagination, what is there to be curious about?"  He shrugged and settled more solidly in Dream's lap.  "I am a piece of you without being you, and it is one that I now embody.  I didn't always."  

"There is a great deal of wisdom in such a statement," Dream answered.  "I would not have expected such wisdom from one so young."  In truth, it was wisdom that rankled, and did not feel as though it fit him and applied to him.  "However, dreams would still exist without curiosity.  They are a reflection of the mind." 

Hob nodded.  "And how terrible a mind without any curiosity in it.  To wonder about the smallest thing.  Words are filled with such wonder, and there is so much possibility and chance of exploration.  All of it is so much.  An impossible amount, surely.  How could you ever be without it?" 

Dream shook his head.  "I do not have an answer for such a question." 

Hob lifted his head to look up at Dream.  Being without curiosity, that was what she had said Dream was struggling with.  That he no longer had it, but he once had and it needed to be given back to him.  Not that he knew how he was going to accomplish that, but there was at least a single obvious place to start with it.  "What are you curious about, hm?  I could name a hundred things I am curious about myself.  However, how about you, Dream.  What are you curious about?"

Dream stared out across the Dreaming for several long seconds, gathering himself for that answer.  "Curiousness implies an innocence I no longer believe myself capable of." 

Once more, Hob was glad that the sound of his heart shattering could not be heard echoing in the Dreaming, for surely it would have if he were anyone else.  Such a statement said with complete and utter finality, as though it were a certainty and not something that was simply felt.  "You don't have to be innocent to be curious.  I certainly lost any innocence a long time ago.  Being curious implies only that.  Curiosity of the world around you.  You have nothing to be curious over?"

"Curiousness implies that I wonder.  When I already know the answer to the questions I would be curious over, what is there to wonder about?  The universe is a cyclical process, and I have seen billions of years pass and it has only solidified that certainty.  It is a matter of time, but everything returns to as it once was.  The works always return to their original forms, and the story will be told over again as though it is new when it is the furthest thing possible from it," Dream answered.  Inside him, something cracked, and there was a roar across the Dreaming, something breaking that would need to be repaired in the future, even though he felt the crack down to the deepest pits of his soul.  

Hob shifted and reached up to bat at Dream's robes and his hand when it descended to pet him once more, grumbling in annoyance.  "You do not know the answer to all questions.  That is impossible.  You have, perhaps, the ability to assess a situation and understand its conclusion based on sheer weight of experience, but that does not mean you know the answer to all questions." 

"Doesn't it?" Dream answered, pausing in his petting to look down at Curiosity.  "If it is always a pattern and it always follows the same pattern, when you have seen enough of the patterns, what hope is there of being original?" 

Hob bit down the instinctual response to say that new things were being invented all of the time, because that would be a very Hob answer, and not a very kitty answer.  Or at least an answer that sounded like it should come from Curiosity.  "Originality is not a pre-requisite.  A flower that has yet bloomed - that could be any number of colors, I will always wonder and be curious about what color it shall bloom as.  A life could choose any number of paths, and I will always be curious as to which one it follows."  He shifted in Dream's lap once more.  "A few dozen letters, when rearranged, make up millions of stories.  Only a handful of letters, and there are more and more that have never been written, or wait to be written.  If there is not wonder there, Dream, I do not know what else you could call it." 

At the mention of stories, of all of the possibilities, Dream closed his eyes and nodded to acknowledge the point.  "Stories are, perhaps, an exception.  I am often curious as to the stories that are told, that find their way into my library." 

Hob grinned and nestled back into Dream's arms, pressing in closer to him with a pleased sound escaping him.  There.  A small bit of curiosity, and a small bit of wonder, given back to Dream.  That was what mattered, and what he had needed to try to get into him.  "Speaking of your library.  Perhaps you could show me such a place tomorrow?  I would like to explore it." 

"You could spend centuries getting lost in such a place, such is the size of it," Dream answered, burying his fingertips in Curiosity's fur, even as the cat continued to purr, the sound vibrating his fingertips again and again until he was almost shivering.  "I would be honored for you to explore such a place, Curiosity.  Are there any stories in particular you would like to see?"

A perfect set up for him, so Hob rolled over in Dream's lap and looked up at him, blinking innocently.  "I would love to see your favorites.  The stories that mean the most to you.  That is what I am most curious about.  I want to know what stories mean something to you and why, so I can learn." 

Dream smiled for the briefest of moments.  "Am I a curious thing to you, then, Curiosity?" 

"Oh yes," Hob agreed, wiggling in his lap before settling down once more, yawning widely before he closed his eyes and snuggled up to Dream's hand once more.  "You are the most curious thing of all, Dream.  And I want to know everything there is to know about you, and then more still.  Anything that you would be willing to tell me of yourself." 

"Anything is far too broad," Dream said.  "Perhaps a direction?" 

Hob considered that for a moment, not wanting to trip Dream into recognizing who he was, if he asked a similar question as he had as a human.  But it was still the truth.  "What happened to you that caused the need for this party?" 

Dream tensed, pressing his fingertips into Curiosity's side.  "That is a very invasive question." 

Hob shrugged and batted at his fingertips for a few more moments before he answered.  "It is," he agreed.  "But you asked for something that I wished to know about you, and this is what I have picked.  You do not need to tell me, of course." 

Dream closed his eyes and breathed in deep, feeling the steady heartbeat of Curiosity beneath him.  The words, such as they were, came far easier than they should have, perhaps.  "A magician, a man of little power and less consequence, was able to summon and capture me in the Waking World.  For more than a century, with the assistance of one of my Nightmares.  I have unmade him for the betrayal." 

Hob made a quiet rumbling noise in his chest and let the growl come to full fruition, lifting himself so he could look at Dream properly.  His friend had hinted at capture, and that what he had gone through was difficult and a betrayal, but he hadn't mentioned anything like this.  Nothing to this extent that meant he had been betrayed by those closest to him.  "Good," he added, his voice still a low growl.  "He deserved worse for what he did to you."

"Your faith is misplaced.  I have done a great many terrible things in my life, and I should not be praised for-"

"Who said anything about praising you," Hob interrupted, meeting Dream's eyes when they blinked open in surprise and found him and where he was standing, both paws planted on Dream's chest so he could get better leverage to look him in the eye.  "Everyone who has lived long enough has done terrible things, and even worse things that they regret with everything in them."  He licked his lips over his chops and leaned in, pressing his whiskers to Dream's cheek.  "If you did not have such regrets I would have assumed that you lived no life at all, so I am relieved to hear that you have lived some sort of life." 

Dream stared at Curiosity, frowning, unsure of what he meant by that.  "I deserved-"

"You did not," Hob said, his voice edging into a full growl.  "Deserve to be trapped for as long as you were.  You deserved to be told what you did was wrong.  To face consequences as a result of those actions, yes.  However, trapping you for as long as you were?  No.  That was cruelty for the joy of it.  No one could ever have deserved that.  A lesson can be taught, but that was a step beyond punishment." 

Dream said nothing, looking down at his hands and where they rested on Curiosity's sides.  "Your certainty does you credit, even if it is wrong." 

"It isn't," Hob said simply, and then altered his form a fraction so he could drape his larger form, the one the size of a panther, on top of Dream, pinning him back to the lounger with a grunt.  He smirked, proud of himself as he did, keeping him pinned in place.  Like this, he could press his face properly to Dream's neck and scent him, and keep him in place.  If Dream truly wanted to move him, he could, but until then, he was going to stay right where he was and take some offered comfort. 

"What are you doing?" Dream asked when Curiosity did not move, only seemed to nestle closer, despite how large he was likely being uncomfortable on a lounger the size he had created. 

Deciding to forgo any subtlety, Hob answered honestly.  "I'm cuddling you." 

Dream blinked.  "You are... cuddling me." 

"Yes."  Hob closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing his full body weight properly onto Dream and breathed in deeply.  He could feel most of Dream's bony body stretched out beneath him and allowed himself not to worry about his weight or his bulk.  If Dream did not want him where he was, he would be moved, of that he had no doubt.  "And you are going to sit and enjoy it, and I am going to sit here and enjoy it, and afterward, we are both going to feel better, and then we are going to spend tomorrow in the library. And you are not going to argue."

Dream paused.  "Oh, am I?"

Hob felt the smile and eyebrow raise in those few words, and it was worth it, because at the same time, he could feel Dream relaxing again and that had been his true goal.  To have him relax and breathe and maybe take some room for himself, small as it was.  He deserved that.  He deserved everything.  "You are.  Or I am going to follow you around the entire time and just pin you to whatever surface I set fit until you take the time to relax yourself.  I'm sure you wouldn't want me interrupting your work like that."

"I suppose that is true," Dream agreed, still fighting a smile.  "After how well the event tonight went, I believe that a day spent in the library would not be a poor use of my time." 

Hob grinned and nuzzled into Dream's neck again with a pleased purr, continuing to stretch out on top of him.  "Then it's settled.  Now, hush and enjoy the cuddling." 

Dream closed his eyes and shifted so he had one arm wrapped around the form of the orange tabby and sank his fingers into the fur on his back, breathing in deep and slow.  Enjoy the cuddling.  What a strange command.  Especially from another Endless, who seemed determined to care for him in more than one way.  Everything that Curiosity had done tonight, from ensuring that those who would wish him harm were kept from the others and then were punished, to standing up to Lucifer, even when he did not know what he was doing, to pulling the attention of the room so it was not all focused on Dream, all of it had been a relief.  He was not alone in the room with all of them, he had someone else to lean on, who was not one of his own subjects.  It had been a relief to have at least one other person there who did support him, despite who he was. 

When Curiosity shifted to press more solidly against him, Dream allowed himself to lean forward and press his face to the soft fur on his shoulders.  Dreams did not cry, and would not, but if the finest of mists began to linger around them, well.  Curiosity still did not move and only shifted to cover more of him to keep him warm.  That, coupled with the slow, resonant purring, was enough to have him agreeing that perhaps cuddling was not an entirely wasted endeavor.  He felt lighter than he had before the party that evening, and there was none of the lingering upset that had been there beforehand.  He relaxed into the lounger beneath him and felt Curiosity do the same. 

There was no sleep for them to be found, not in the traditional sense, as they were, but Curiosity led him in his drifting across the Dreaming to a warm and comfortable dream under a shaded tree where they could both rest a moment as they dozed.  Dream sank into it, happily, without a word, and he felt, rather than saw, the pleased purr that went through the orange tabby when he shifted into a cat himself and draped himself over Curiosity, a version of his own cuddling.  The same rumbling purr as before rocketed through him, and Dream was able to close his eyes and rest for the first time since he had been freed from the glass cage. 

~!~

Hob woke to an indignant squawk and he swiped at it with one large paw, which prompted a much louder curse.  He opened one eye and looked at the raven standing beside them both, eyeing them like they were monsters.  He looked down at himself in the larger form once more and shifted back to the house cat size and looked at the raven.  Beneath him, Dream had also stirred and was staring at his raven.  None of the relaxation that had been so apparent in his limbs moments ago was there, and Hob cursed it, missing the sight of it already.  Dream always deserved to be relaxed, to be able to have that kind of relaxation.  He didn't get nearly enough of it, if today was an indication of it. 

"Matthew," Dream greeted, nodding his head.  He rested his hand on Curiosity's back, glad when he did not make any moves to remove himself.  He did not want to lose the comforting weight of the tabby yet.  "Is there anything you need this morning?"

Matthew flapped his wings.  "Luce and I finished the census.  Though you have retrieved all of the dreams and nightmares, we're short more than thirty each.  She told me that soon the duties may become unmanageable for the others if this isn't attended to."  He glanced at Curiosity and frowned, before looking back to Dream.  "Don't think she was saying get back to work, but you know her." 

"I do," Dream agreed.  "You will find me on the Shores of Creation, then, Matthew.  I would not be disturbed unless it is urgent, especially with such an extensive amount of work that needs be done." 

"You got it boss!" Matthew said, flapping his wings again.  "Hey, uh, Curious-"

"Curiosity," Hob corrected. 

"Right, right, C-man.  You want to come to the library so we can leave boss man to his creating.  He normally works in solitude."

Hob recognized the gesture for what it was and looked back up at Dream's face curiously.  The blankness there gave nothing away, and the more he watched Dream the more he became convinced that the very last thing he should do is leave Dream alone to his work.  But he didn't want to cause any sort of discord or upset between Dream and his people.  "I will be along shortly," he answered, and that was apparently good enough for Matthew, who took wing. 

Hob turned his attention back to Dream and found his face shuttered and blank once more.  None of the openness that had been there moments ago was present.  His friend was back to his usual stoic and serious self, the one he was all-too familiar with in his own world.  It made his heart ache to see it, even if he understood why Dream needed to hide behind that guise.  "Duty calls." 

"Ceaseless as it is," Dream agreed, carefully putting Curiosity on the ground before standing and changing from his formal robes to a loose set far more suited to working on the Shores of Creation.  "It is my Function.  it is not a burden."  Even as he said the words, they did not feel true.  There was a burden required with this.  He would need to do as he was bid, help to repair his realm, and that would be enough as it had always been.  But the thought of making new dreams and nightmares, beyond the few he had managed upon first arriving back, after remaking Gault, none of them had the inspiration that he would have wished for them.  They deserved better, and the skeletons of more than a dozen dreams and nightmares on the Shores of Creation was a testament to his indecision. 

"You sure that you don't want company?" Hob asked, sitting down on his paws, looking up at Dream.  The indifference on his face had almost cracked open and underneath it was an exhaustion that went so deep it was almost terrifying to look at it.  It was almost as though Dream himself was being drained, sucked dry by the demands of his function.  He was a King, but it was clear that he needed someone to share the burden with.  Or at least a way for the burden to not be so burdensome.  "I'd be happy to join you, even if I just have to stay out of the way." 

Dream shook his head.  "Enjoy the library.  It is extensive and I believe will hold many delights for you.  In the event that I am needed, both Matthew and Lucienne will be able to reach me.  I will endeavor not to stay away long, this time.  But they are right.  There is still so much work to be done." 

Hob swished his tail along the ground.  "And when do you get to rest?  When might you have a respite?" 

Dream's lips twitched and he gestured to the chair behind him.  "Last evening was, by definition, a respite.  As was the day we spent together in Fiddler's Green." 

That Dream considered those true breaks and that they were breaks, really time to rest, was heartbreaking, and Hob wanted nothing more than to pin him down again and keep him in place until he truly had a chance to rest, not just sit in one spot, waiting for the work to return.  He made a quiet plaintive noise and stepped closer, rubbing up against Dream's leg, twining around his legs.  He deserved time to rest, and he was not taking it for himself.  Ever since his capture, had these been the first moments he had rested?  After everything he had gone through?  That was even more painful to think about. 

"Worry not, Curiosity.  I am well and it is my Function.  It is what I am.  I am well-able to perform as is expected of me," Dream said, watching as the cat circled his feet once more, darting around his robe and under it before emerging to sit in front of him, watching him.  There was a look in those brown eyes that he didn't want to analyze and turned to look at the Shores of Creation.  Lucienne was right.  With the tremendous influx of Dreamers, new Dreams and new Nightmares were required.  His eyes drifted halfway shut and he chanced another glance down at Curiosity.  "I will return soon," he promised. 

Hob watched Dream disappear, stepping into a small swirl of sand that sprang up around it, reading the dismissal for what it was.  Dream did not want anyone following him to where he had gone and would deal with anything that he needed to by himself.  He frowned, watching where he had disappeared to, before he turned to make his way into the castle.  The library was not difficult to find, nor was its librarian, waiting for him at the entrance.  Hob sat down and looked up at her, studying her, waiting for whatever it was that she would say to him.  The silence stretched on as she continued to watch and study him, making him want to squirm under the regard.  He didn't need this.  He could come and go as he pleased.  He could go to Dream, to wherever he was and at least give him company so he was not in solitude and alone.  How much of his work did he do while he was alone? 

(The thought was more heartwrenching, and Hob spared a moment to wonder if things with Dream would ever not be heartbreaking.) 

"He does not need a minder." 

Hob continued to stare at her.  There was a difference between a minder and someone who cared and Hob knew damn well that he fell into the latter category.  He cared, he loved his friend, and to see him so worn down (far more than he had looked when they had last met up) was painful and he wanted to help.  "I would not assume to be his minder." 

She narrowed her eyes.  "Then you need to understand-"

"But he does need those who care about him.  How long, since he returned, has he rested?  Or has it been one crisis after another?" Hob challenged, looking at her, his tail swishing angrily.  By the way her lips thinned, he had his answer.  "You care for him.  But you place just as much pressure on him.  He needs space and time to heal." 

"There are duties that must be performed," she said.  "He manages the collective unconscious.  He cannot simply stop.” 

That was the crux of the problem, after all of it.  That Dream could not simply stop what was required of him, his role, his function, everything that he was.  The idea of him being able to stop for a break was... was truly impossible.  There was no possibility of it.  Which meant that all he had was to keep going, to keep pushing until eventually, he could do that no more.  Instead, Hob turned his attention back to the librarian in front of him. 

"Everyone, every being, has a point at which they break.  They cannot go forward, they cannot do more.  They are bent until they break."  Hob stared at her and watched fear flood into her eyes before she looked beyond him, up at the throne.  "I would never see him break.  But he is being pushed to his limits.  I know that you can see it."

"Everything that happened has... taken a toll," she allowed, turning her back on Curiosity to lead the way into the library, feeling him follow her to the desk where she had been working.  "Understandably so, considering what has happened.  I believe that he did seek his sister out for advice, as he has been struggling, but I do not know that it offered any solace to him.  He has been like this since then." 

Hob leaped up onto an empty chair and faced her, considering that for long moments.  So Dream had been summoned, trapped, for more than a century, had broken out, and he'd mentioned retrieving his tools, fighting for his ruby that destroyed it, then... there had been more.  Whispers of a vortex, that had happened, that he had heard at the party.  "Tell me about the Vortex.  What happened with all of that?"  By the way her face fell further, Hob had a feeling that he would very shortly know precisely why Dream looked as exhausted as he did. 

The full tale took mere minutes to relate.  A necessity of Dream's function, the death of a being that was designed to tear the Dreaming apart, that existed for some reason, every few thousand years.  Nearly spilling family blood, finding out that they were family he had not known he had.  Hob dug his claws into the wood of the chair beneath him, his chest rumbling with a growl that wanted to escape.  And to find that all of it, his captivity, the near spilling of family blood had been orchestrated by a sibling?  By family? 

No wonder Dream looked like he was barely holding things together.  Hob gave the librarian a look and settled back into his chair, thinking.  He would need to be careful if he wanted to try to take care of Dream, especially if he wanted to do it without causing offense.  He'd already done that once and that was more than enough for a single lifetime.  He wanted to support Dream, to help him, but there wasn't much that he could do in this form, other than pinning Dream to the bed, or some other flat surface to make sure that he rested.  Though, perhaps that idea had merit. 

"I should go to him," Hob said, pacing along the edge of the table when sitting became too much.  That statement was enough to draw the librarian's eyes to him and a sharp frown. 

"He is not to be disturbed when he is working.  He needs solitude and silence for the delicate work of crafting new dreams and new nightmares.  He has told me this himself many times," she corrected.  "If you approach him now, and go to visit him, you will find that you do nothing but put him further behind in his work." 

"I might also be able to make him rest," Hob countered.  "And if there is one thing he looks like he needs, it is rest.  A good meal, and rest."  He could see that she didn't disagree with the challenge of his words, and that made it all the worse.  But for now, he would listen, and wait.  Perhaps Dream would return of his own volition.  He settled himself down at the table to... wait. 

Time passed, as Hob watched the librarian work.  It was hard to tell just how much time was passing, as things appeared to move differently in the Dreaming (which made sense, Dreams could encompass years or seconds when you wanted them to), but Hob could feel the weight of time passing.  After a certain point, clouds rolled in across the sky and the librarian (Lucienne, if Matthew was to be believed) watched them with worry and trepidation.  He had a feeling that it was much more than rain that she didn't enjoy. 

Hob took to lounging against the window, waiting for Dream to return like he had promised, but the only thing that happened was the sky getting darker and darker, the clouds hovering low to the ground, as though they were ready to rain, but they did not.  They remained a constant threat, but they did not release the water they held.  However, the sight of them was enough to make everyone at the castle tense.  Which meant he was missing a crucial bit of information.  Curious, he made his way over to Lucienne, and sat on the table in front of her and cleared his throat. 

"You should still not visit-"

"I'm not asking about visiting him," Hob interrupted, cutting that line of questioning off in an instant.  Somehow, that relaxed her immediately and she turned a more considering eye to him. 

"Then what are you curious about Curiosity?" She asked, watching him over the rim of her glasses.  "I can see that it is something." 

Hob had to wonder what, precisely, she could see in him, but he answered, easily enough.  "Why do you all hate the weather?  Everyone keeps looking up at the clouds like rain is going to make them melt.  What is wrong?  Will you melt?"  Surprisingly, that was enough to make her lips twitch before she grew solemn once more and looked up at the sky again before she looked back down to her books, considering. 

"The weather is a reflection of my lord's mood.  If he is distraught, it is difficult for him to control, and it is reflected in the weather the Dreaming experiences.  Thick clouds like this..." she trailed off and looked to them again.  "But without the absence and sorrow of rain?  I do not know what it means." 

The weather was a bloody mood ring.  Fuck.  No wonder everyone was watching it so worriedly.  They knew it meant whatever mood was in wasn't a good one and wanted to steer clear of it as much as they could.  He couldn't fault them for that, but none of them were trying to do anything to prevent the clouds from releasing their deluge.  "Why hasn't anyone gone to talk to him to see if he's okay then?  If this is the weather we're having.  And I know, I know he requires solitude, but you can see that he isn't okay?  So why are you just sitting here?" 

She looked down at the books in front of her.  "It is not our place, as his creations, to question him, and his mood, and his actions." 

"Yeah that's a load of bullshit, but if that's what you're going to hide behind, that's fine," Hob said, standing up.  "I'm not one of his creations and I don't give a shit, so I'm going to go find him."  He didn't wait for her to offer another protest, instead jumping down off the table, striding for the door.  The doors at the rear of the castle were open and Hob sprinted for them, stretching his body out as he started to run.  Small drops of rain began to hit his fur as he stepped into the grass of the Dreaming proper, beyond the bridges. 

Hob took a deep breath and tried to see if he could feel Dream.  He had gone to a place where he would create, but here, in the world that he had built, everything tended to be slowly pulled toward him, and Hob followed that sense of gravity that he could feel continuously tugging at him.  It was a longer journey than he expected, likely because he couldn't just jump into a portal as Dream did, but he hoped that not enough time had passed to be concerning yet.  The rain was starting to come down harder, steadily, and as awful as that felt on his fur, Hob kept going. 

Eventually, the grass beneath his paws gave way to the beach, and abruptly, all at once, Hob was standing on a beach, and Dream was only a dozen or so feet away, the skeletons of dozens of creatures surrounding them.  Dream was in the middle of them, his shoulders hunched, clearly trying to do something and not succeeding in the way that he wanted to.  The clouds were just as dark here, just as prevalent, just as dark, and the rain was starting to come down harder.  Hob squared his shoulders, lifted his tail, and began to walk across the sand, until he was sitting on a rock, a few feet away from Dream (who had not noticed him yet, from what he could tell), and settled in to be there for his friend as much as he could. 

It was only when a lightning crack broke the sky above that Hob watched Dream yank himself away from the creation in front of him, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sound escaping him as he breathed.  The lightning immediately subsided, and so did the rain, and it looked like it was because Dream was trying to force himself to be controlled, before he turned and saw Curiosity.  Hob sat up and wrapped his tail around his feet, watching Dream as he approached.  It was almost as though the thunderclouds had gathered around him, his face a stormcloud in and of itself in its frustration and fury. 

"Did they send you here to complain about the weather?" Dream asked. 

His voice held the echoes of thunder in it, and Hob felt it wash across him in a wave of power.  Dream was a raging storm, barely contained, barely holding himself together, even as he stared in Hob in anger and frustration.  "No," he answered, lifting a paw to lick it.  "No one sent me here, and I have not come here to complain about the weather." 

"Is there some sort of urgency that calls me back?" Dream challenged.  "Another burgeoning issue that I must deal with instantly?"

Hob could feel the almost begging tone in that question.  Dream very clearly wanted to be pulled away from the work that was not working out for him as he wanted to, wanted something, anything, to pull him away from what he was doing.  Even a fight.  It was a desperation that Hob was far more familiar with than he wanted to be, and it made him ache for his friend.  "No.  No issue, nothing that I could tell you needs to be addressed in this moment.  Everything and everyone appears to be well.  They are, as you said, worried about the weather, but no one has expressed anything to me." 

Dream deflated, turning away from Curiosity, facing the creation that he had been unable to finish for hours now.  "Then you have no reason to be here, and should leave."

"I have every reason to be here," Hob corrected.  "My friend is here, and I thought he could use company." 

"You thought wrong," Dream snapped, reaching up to press his fingers to his temples.  "I need solitude, and silence and-"

"Precisely what I was giving you before you stormed over here to yell?" Hob interrupted, meeting the furious gaze of his friend.  It was a challenge that he never would have issued had he been human, he never would have tried to press this hard and risk his friend walking out on him forever.  But like this, he knew, without a doubt that anywhere Dream ran to, he would be able to follow, and that meant no more running, not truly. 

Dream clenched his hands into fists.  "I do not need a minder, someone to watch over and coach me as though you could know how to do my job better than I do!"

Hob spared a few seconds to wonder about all of the people in Dream's life who had clearly taken advantage of him in one way or another, because it was clear that they had done all of these things, and he was assuming that more of that would be forthcoming.  "I would never presume to tell you how to do your work better than you do," he pointed out.  "Not only would it be blatantly untrue, it would be foolish." 

"Then why are you here?" Dream asked, his voice a whipcrack of thunder across the space.  "Why have you come to interrupt me, to distract me, to pull me away from my work, to have this inane at best conversation?"

Hob watched his friend, and the way his whole being seemed to crumple in on itself after the shout.  There was so much regret in his face after his outburst, he spared a moment to wonder if all those who had been with Dream had never truly understood that he, as everything that he was, would be as mercurial as Dreams often were.  Had they judged him for such outbursts of anger and frustrations?  Likely, which had meant he would have tried to control himself more tightly, which led to more outbursts.  No wonder he was all tied up in proverbial knots. 

Dream took a slower breath, staring at the cat who was still watching him, calm as you please, despite his shouting.  "Why are you here, Curiosity?  There is nothing that I can give you here.  There is only work that I must finish and that I am struggling to accomplish.  Would you see me struggle?" 

The pain in that sentence was enough to have Hob's breath punched from his chest, and he leaped off the rock, stepping into the wet sand once more, padding his way over to Dream, and the way his robes had become immaterial wisps around his feet.  He paused and sat down in front of Dream, looking up at him once more.  "Of course not.  I would never come with the purpose of seeing you struggle.  The sky had gone dark, everyone was worried, and that made me worry for you.  Not for the weather, not for the people of the Dreaming, not for anyone other than you."

"You were worried about me," Dream said with a scoff.  "I am perfectly well, Curiosity." 

Hob didn't say anything in response, merely kept staring at Dream, and the certainty of those words faded into the quietly rumbling thunder around them.  The expression on Dream's face fell slowly, and they watched each other, as the bravado slowly fell away from Dream, and all that was left was a man, or a being that appeared as a man, who looked exhausted beyond all possibility and he was holding himself up by sheer will alone.  

"How long have you had to be perfectly well?" Hob asked him, keeping his voice low. 

Dream closed his eyes in pain and inhaled slowly.  "I am always well.  I am Dream, a personification.  I don't-"

"Answer my question, Dream," Hob challenged, meeting furious galaxy eyes in an instant.  It was a challenge, he knew, but it was one that Dream could rise to, it was just a matter of pushing and nudging him to do so.  "How long have you had to be perfectly well so you did not worry others?" 

Dream snapped his mouth shut and scowled.  "I am fine." 

Hob hummed.  "Perhaps if you continue to say it enough, it will become true.  But forcing yourself to be as much only means that when you do find a moment to break down and be upset, it will be worse than it ever could have been before."  He paused pointedly.  "It is all right if you are not fine, considering all that has happened to you.  It is more than all right, it would be almost expected."

"The Dreaming, the Dreamers," Dream emphasized.  "Need me to be fine.  Need me to be well.  Need me to be able to take care of them." 

"Which is all well and good," Hob allowed.  "But what happens when you are no longer fine and well and you are not able to take care of them?"  Dream's silence spoke volumes and Hob wanted to wrap him up in his arms as Dream seemed to fold in on himself, sitting on the rock that Hob himself had been relaxing on as he stared at the sand beneath his feet.  He waited a few seconds before he leaped up and into Dream's lap, settling across his bony thighs.  In a moment, fingers were buried in his fur, petting him as Dream looked around him. 

"I do not know why this time is different from all the others," Dream said eventually, his voice soft.  "This is not the first time I have experienced pain.  Not the first time I have experienced something similar to this.  And yet, nothing feels quite right.  It is as though there is a skin on top of mine that is separating me from everything.  It does not feel right.  It cannot feel right, and I do not know how to fix it."  He lifted his eyes to stare at the nightmare on the sand behind them. 

Hob purred quietly, letting it rumble in his chest so that it would maybe resonate through Dream as well.  He deserved that, to feel that and to be grounded, at least a little, in the now.  "You lost a great deal to the actions of others.  It is only reasonable-" He stopped when Dream seemed to vibrate under him, a wave of something sweeping over him so obviously that Hob stopped, cut off by the feeling.  "Dream?"

"My pride," Dream said, staring out across the sand.  "I lost everything that I did to my pride.  My sibling wished to do this to me because of my pride.  My pride kept me from speaking to my captors, kept me from calling out to one of my siblings for help.  What I lost, as you succinctly put it, is the fault of myself and myself only." 

Hob lifted his head to look up at him.  "You did not imprison yourself." 

"My actions led to it, it is a path I can see as clearly as I can see the clouds now.  It stretched out before, me, easy.  Rather than learn, attempt to be better, to do better, all I did was force others to suffer my pride," Dream said, staring out across the Sands of Creation.  "Is it any wonder that I can no longer create?  As though the ability has been robbed from me?  It is what I have deserved." 

Shifting in Dream's lap, Hob reached up and put his paws on Dream's chest, meeting his eyes as readily as he could.  He waited for a few seconds, their eyes meeting.  "You did not deserve what happened to you, no matter your pride.  You did not."  He leaned in and pressed their noses together.  "No one deserves to suffer as you did."  A tremble went through Dream under him and Hob felt him leaning back to rest against the rock, with him sprawled on top of him. 

Dream considered that for long seconds, staring at the gray sky of the Dreaming, letting the silence stretched between them, before he offered, almost too quiet to be heard.  "I do not believe you." 

Hob closed his eyes and let out a rough breath, the truth of that making his very soul ache.  He'd guessed as much, that Dream had believed himself deserving of punishment, and that everything he was suffering was his fault.  But hearing it spoken, even if only between them and the sand, made it all the more real.  It was agonizing, painful, and now neither of them could avoid it, but perhaps they would now be able to find a way forward.  It was what they needed, truly.  He just had to keep working as best he could to make Dream laugh and to be curious, exactly as he had been bid. 

"You don't have to believe me," Hob said eventually, resting his head on Dream's neck.  "I'll believe it enough for the both of us."  Though that made Dream tense beneath him, it did make the clouds above them start to dissipate and he watched them as they slowly faded away until they were nothing but faint haze preventing the most direct sunlight.  It was much better than it had been, even if it wasn't exactly where he'd wanted to get to.  But Dream was not stuck in his own melancholy, at least for now, and that was an improvement on the rain. 

Hob allowed them to sit there, breathing in the sea air, reclining together, for several minutes (it could have been days or weeks, who knew), breathing in deeply, until he stood up on Dream's chest and leaned down to touch their noses together again.  "I have a suggestion," he said, waiting for Dream's eyes to open, slow and lazy, to look at him.  "Take me on a tour of the Dreaming.  I have seen Fiddler's Green and your castle, and now here.  Take me on a tour of the rest.  Show me what you have spent millennia building." 

Dream blinked and frowned at him.  "Why?  You are quite capable of exploring it on your own.  You have showed as much."

"Because you built it," Hob challenged, his voice soft.  "Because I want to see it through your eyes as its builder, not just my own, and because I think it would do you good to go back and realize the places you loved creating and why.  Maybe it will help you with what you are struggling with here." 

Dream frowned, but acquiesced to the logic, at least for the time being, sitting up slowly, looking at the shells of the dozen nightmares that he had been attempting to create, frowning at the sight of them all.  There was nothing for it, he would need to begin entirely again at a later time.  Perhaps Curiosity was right, a tour around the Dreaming would do him good.  He could make sure the repairs were taking as they should, and that his dreams and nightmares were once more settling in as they should and finding their places in his kingdom. 

"Where would you like to start, Curiosity?" Dream asked, looking down at him.  "If this is to be your tour." 

Hob shrugged and climbed off of Dream to sit beside him on the rock.  "No idea where we could start.  Guess you'll just have to take me everywhere, won't you?"  He teased.  There was a flash of a small smile on Dream's lips and Hob counted that as a victory.  Whether it was or not didn't really matter, he'd managed to make Dream smile.  Even if only for a moment.  "Pick a place.  I promise that I shall enjoy it, no matter what." 

"A poor promise to make, I could take you somewhere terrible," Dream said, his sand rising around them.  "Take you to visit the land of the Nightmares, the Sea in which they reside." 

Though he wasn't eager to go swimming with Nightmares, Hob forced himself to give another shrug.  "If that is where you wish to take me, then that is where we will go." 

Dream smiled faintly and shook his head.  "Not to start, I think."  There were far better places for him to take one such as Curiosity.  His sand leapt to his command in seconds and Dream led Curiosity through it and much deeper into the Dreaming.  There a great many things that he could display and show off, and perhaps in the process, he would find whatever it was that he was searching for. 

~!~

The Dreaming was more beautiful than Hob had ever thought possible, and he'd seen a great deal of it in his first few days.  Between the library and the throne room and the castle, it was clear that Dream had an eye for beauty.  But so much of it was an untouchable sort of beauty.  The kind of beauty that you didn't want to muss, just wanted to sit back and admire.  It felt very much like being back in court again, all of the gems on display that were meant to be seen, not worn or touched and handled.  Everything else that Dream brought him to, everything on display, though Hob could see that there was more to it, Dream's impassivity remained.  He spoke of things as beautiful, and even smiled as he showed them off, but he still seemed disconnected from it all, almost as though he didn't know how to reach out and touch it any longer. 

More than one Dream (and a handful of Nightmares they had run into) stared longingly after Dream, as though they wanted him closer, but didn't know how to ask for it, and the more Hob saw, the more it was clear that the film on his skin that Dream had mentioned was affecting everything, but none of them knew how to break through it.  It was worrying, because it would be a matter of time before it started impacting everything else that Dream was doing, if it wasn't already.  Hob took his time introducing himself to everyone, while Dream stood back and watched.  He'd caught sight of a few more smiles that had burst out on his face, but nothing that had lingered, nor did Dream try to join the conversations with his creations.  He held himself back, apart from them all.  They were a part of him and that was enough, he would not let himself revel with them. 

Cain and Abel, as they stopped at their houses was the first time that Hob saw a hint of what Dream might have been before his captivity.  He spoke so gently with them, but with a faint hint of teasing, asking after their gargoyle Gregory, and introducing them to Hob.  They had all talked together, while Hob had asked them questions, and it had felt the most right out of the entire exploration of the Dreaming.  It did not feel as though it were forced, and when he was offered tea, Hob accepted it heartily, and even Dream sat down at the table, listening to his creations as they spoke together and sipped his tea.  It was the first time he didn't ache for Dream as they moved together, even though they had to say farewell soon enough. 

Once they had stepped away from them, Dream brought him to Fiddler's Green, and the first thing Hob did was to flop into the wonderfully warm grass under the still hazy sun.  Dream sat down beside him but did not say anything, did not attempt to add to their conversation, and he debated saying something, but.  He didn't think that it would help.  So instead, Hob draped himself on top of Dream and let himself enjoy the sun, purring loudly as he did.  Some things were universally enjoyable, and sitting in the sun was one of them.  For his part, Dream did not say anything either, but he appeared just as listless as he had been before, as though he were not fully grounded in the moment, not attached to things like he had been before. 

It was worrying. 

However, for now, Dream was at least not trying to force himself to work, and was relaxing in the sunshine, so he would take the victories where he could get them.  Hob was reasonably sure that he wouldn't be able to bait Dream into another chase across Fiddler's Green (no matter how much they would both enjoy it), so this seemed like the next best thing.  After a little while, Dream lifted his hand and began petting him again, as though he hadn't realized he wasn't and then began again.  Hob kept up the purring, louder than ever, and nestled into the robes that were curled around Dream. 

The sun slowly gave way to a clear night of stars above them, and Hob opened one eye to admire them, before he realized they were the same stars that were in Dream's eyes, sitting up on his lap to stare up at the sky.  It was almost as though Dream's eye was the night sky and it was blinking at him, watching him from a much, much larger form.  They were beautiful, though they had no bright, blinding light at the center as Dream's eyes had.  But the stars were beautiful.  He couldn't see stars like this unless he went to specific spots in the world, and even then, it was nothing like it had been a few centuries prior.  The day that humanity was able to explore the stars was the day that Hob would be grateful that he could once again enjoy those same evenings, staring up at the stars. 

"I am glad you are here, Curiosity." 

Dream's voice was unexpected, and Hob looked down at him, tearing his eyes away from the stars.  He tilted his head and made a quiet inquisitive sound.  Granted, it was a relief to know that he wasn't bothering Dream, that he hadn't been a burden to him, it had come out of nowhere with no prompting whatsoever.  So he looked down at the dream lord and waited for him to elaborate.

Dream turned his eyes back up to the stars and stared at them for a long moment.  "However you came to be, I care not.  But that you are here is enough.  Curiosity was once a part of my younger sister, before she changed.  She hadn't lost it, but the same... pleased innocence that you have, that she did not have.  She'd said once she lost it.  I'm pleased that it has found a place in you, such as you are." 

The combination of the compliment, the story about his sister (that had to be who the young woman was - one of Dream's siblings!), were all unexpected, and Hob wasn't quite sure how to respond to them, but he curled up against Dream's chest once more, glad when long fingers descended into his fur.  "I'm glad I'm here too," he offered up, his voice soft.  It was the truth.  No matter that his life he had left behind had no doubt been thrown into disarray with his disappearance, he did not regret coming here, to be with Dream, to hang out with him, and get to see him in a way that he kept hidden in the waking world.  "I wish there was more that I could do to help." 

Dream sighed and closed his eyes, reclining back against the grass.  "There is no help to be had for an Endless, and such are our roles.  It is our fate as what we are, collectives and personifications.  It is not a detriment, it is only what it is," he stated, plain and soft.  "To be tired by it would be to be tired by our core function and what we are.  It would indicate that we are not what we should be.  That something is broken.  And such a thing, as it is, does not have a way to be repaired." 

"Then what happens?" Hob asked, feeling the curious part of him surge forward, because there was something there, something haunted in Dream's words, as though he had already had all of these thoughts and reached his final conclusions on them.  "If you are being tired by your core function?"  Worry shot through him, growing stronger by the second.  Hob felt the way that Dream tensed beneath him and wanted nothing more than to hug him tight, because it was clear that was a question Dream had been asking himself, even if he didn't want to admit it. 

"I do not know," Dream answered.  "I do not want to find out." 

So he would return to the work, because that's what he was, and what he knew, and there was no getting out of this spiral.  Hob settled a little closer, digging his claws in a little more to Dream's robe, wondering if there was anything that he was supposed to do in this situation.  How could he offer anything to Dream like this?  Giving him curiosity, or making him laugh wouldn't suddenly make him enjoy doing his function anymore, and that was where the problem truly sat.  There was nothing he could do to fix those things for Dream.  Absolutely nothing. 

And that realization was far more devastating than he wanted to think about.  So he did all that he could, cuddling closer and soaking up the sunshine, hoping that his presence would let Dream take a few extra seconds for himself to do the same.  Maybe if he tried to force Dream to get enough rest, he would be able to recover and feel more fulfilled by his work.  There was joy for him here, he could see the hints of it when Dream talked about the library, or smiled at Matthew, or when he looked out across the Dreaming.  But all of it had been tempered and beat down by other things.  It needed to be unleashed again, but hell if Hob knew precisely how to do that. 

--

They sat in the sun for much longer than Hob would have thought Dream would allow, but perhaps he was avoiding going back to work, and avoiding those who would tell him to go back to work.  Here, like this, there was no one to push him and no one to require anything of him.  But, running from responsibility wouldn't accomplish anything either, and eventually, Hob stood up and sat down on Dream's chest and looked at his face, pale and gaunt cheekbones as it was.  He leaned down to nuzzle Dream's cheek, rousing him and bringing him to wide awake.  There was an upheaval of a sigh beneath him and then Dream was sitting up as well. 

"You are right, Curiosity.  We must go back." 

The resignation in Dream's voice had him aching down to his very bones, but he nodded and hopped off of Dream and together they made their way back to the castle.  Lucienne was waiting for him and informed Dream that there were many who wanted to meet with him.  That led them to the throne room and Dream settled on the landing, the same one that he had been occupying for the party.  Hob watched him sprawl out and then on a whim, climbed up and sat down beside him, stretching out on the marble.  He wouldn't interfere, but at least Dream would not feel like he was alone all of the time. 

"You do not need to stay if you don't wish to, Curiosity.  I know there is nothing to be curious about here," Dream said, reaching out to pet the cat beside him.  "There cannot be much of a draw here, anymore, now that you have been here for a while." 

Those words couldn't have been more wrong and Hob wanted to scream them from the mountaintops.  But the sad smile that twisted Dream's face was a resigned one, and he turned his attention to the people who were steadily filing into the throne room.  Hob settled into place and observed them as they came in, one after another.  Some of the requests were easily granted, and some of them were simply dreams and nightmares wanting to spend time with their lord.  Dream did his best to give them everything they asked for, promising to investigate those that they could not.  Promise after promise, request after request, all of it was leveled at him and Hob was amazed that he did not buckle under the pressure.  There was so much everyone was demanding, and Dream gave.  He did not stop giving, and promised to do everything that he could for them. 

When the tide of dreams and nightmares at last ceased, Dream accepted a book from Lucienne and began reviewing it as she rattled off information so fast that Hob could barely keep up with it.  But Dream nodded and asked questions, the hunch to his shoulders getting more and more pronounced by the second.  He wanted to shout for all of them to stop, to see what they were doing to Dream, but this was his responsibility and he was being crushed under it.  Anyone would have been.  Now he understood why Dream's sister was so worried, because it was obvious to see if you were looking for it.  Dream was sad, and unhappy, and even when he finished with the ledger, and took a book to read for pleasure, there was so little pleasure in it, that Hob took charge, hopping into his lap, making Dream startle. 

He looked up at Dream and let out a meow.  "I am going to read to you." 

Dream raised his eyebrows, bemused.  "You are going to read to me, Curiosity?"

"Yes," Hob answered, and gestured for Dream to put the book down so Hob could sit in front of it.  Keeping his claws retracted, he turned the page easily enough, cleared his throat, and began to read.  Dream's eyes widened, but he obligingly shifted to watch and listen to him.  For the first time in hours (days?  maybe more), Hob watched his friend start to relax as he read his way through the story.  He gave Dream's fingers an appreciative lick when a glass of water was summoned for him to sip out of after several dozen pages.  It was a relief, and he focused on the book again and resumed reading.  Out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed both Lucienne and Matthew go to step into the throne room, take one look at the two of them before leaving once more.  Whatever it was that they saw, they were loathe to interrupt it, and that was just fine with him. 

When he stopped for another break to sip some water, Hob felt Dream's hand land on his back, and a bookmark was lovingly tucked between the pages of the book before it was set aside.  Hob looked up at Dream, about to protest, when he was suddenly swept up into the arms of Dream, and he was being carried up the stairs once more.  The door was shut behind them not long after, and Dream had still not let go of him.  It was heartbreaking in the worst way, but Hob waited, he did, as Dream locked the door behind him and started to walk out to the lounger, before he paused and stared at it. 

"Do you have music?" Hob asked, when Dream seemed frozen, unable to make himself go out onto the balcony once more. 

Dream startled and turned back to Curiosity, looking down at him.  "Music?"

"Yes.  Might we listen to music and sit by the fire?  You could keep reading, or I could read something else?  Or you would you prefer something else?" Hob offered.  He knew sometimes, when you were feeling listless and untethered, making decisions was the most difficult part of anything.  If he could take that away from his friend, then he would. 

"What... would you like?  To listen to," Dream clarified after a pause. 

Hob hummed, considering that for a long moment.  He looked in the corner of the room  and debated offering up something as his own recommendation.  "What is a piece of music you think I will find curious?"

Dream chuckled.  "Now that is an answer worthy of curiosity," he praised, stepping closer to the fire with Curiosity still in his arms.  He sat down in one of the chairs in front of the roaring fire and music began to play softly behind them. 

The sound of that chuckle made his heart soar, and Hob nearly laughed as the songs that Dream had selected hopped from one genre to another without any care whatsoever.  It was refreshing and he was curious about what would play next, exactly as he'd asked for.  "Would you like me to read?" He offered, looking up at Dream, only to find Dream shaking his head, leaning back against the comfortable chair he had fallen into.  "All right."  He settled back into Dream's lap and began purring again.  If Dream did not want him to do anything, then he would focus on doing what he could - offering comfort to a clearly exhausted being. 

There was a sad twist to Dream's lips as they sat together, listening to whatever came up to play in the room, while he was pet, again and again.  Hob couldn't help feeling that there was something Dream was considering, as though he wanted to... to say goodbye.  He clung tighter to Dream and buried his face deep into Dream's robes, not wanting him to leave, but the aura of sadness that seemed to be lingering around him was getting thicker by the second.  "You seem sad," he offered up, after more than a dozen songs had played and Dream had said nothing. 

Dream stared at the ceiling, the words echoing quietly.  "Sad," he repeated.  "The endless don't get sad.  We simply are what we are.  Personifications of dreams.  Perhaps there are simply sad dreams right now." 

Hob had never heard something more ridiculous in his entire life, and while it was nothing compared to Dream's lifespan, it was still true.  "Even personifications can get sad," he challenged.  "I'm one, sort of, right?  And I can tell you I can get sad.  With confidence, even." 

Dream looked down at Curiosity, confused, humming low in his throat.  "Can you?  That is disheartening to hear.  I would not wish Curiosity to be sad.  You should be boundless joy and excitement." 

"No one can be that all of the time," Hob pointed out.  "There is always balance.  Just like Dreams and Nightmares.  There is always balance to one with the other.  That is simply how existence works."  That, at least, got an understanding noise out of Dream and Hob allowed himself to settle again.  "But you seem sad.  And I wish that I could help." 

Dream stared into the fire and the way that it danced and cackled, and cast warmth across the room.  It reminded him of the fire in the White Horse, and the fire in the New Inn, with the quiet laughter and happy joy amongst the dirt of the Waking World.  And in all of that, there was Hob.  Hob who was waiting for him to visit, to see him again.  Hob who would be so happy to see him.  He would light up, and smile, and Dream would... would sit down and absorb all of it.  Unable to touch it himself, unable to feel it himself, he would steal it from Hob, moment to moment, until the time would come for him to leave. 

"I am simply as I am," Dream answered, even though he could not imagine being filled with the same easy happiness and joy that Hob Gadling was.  Perhaps when he was far, far older, when he had faced more unkind centuries than kind ones, that joy and happiness would steadily start to fade until... He shook himself and frowned.  No, Hob had always been himself and would continue to be that.  He was certain of it. 

"Are you all right?" Hob asked, butting his head into Dream's palm.  He had gone worryingly still, only to be jolted once more into movement, as though he had gotten lost somewhere within his own head.  Concerning as it had been, he did seem to be all right. 

Dream nodded.  "I am, yes.  I was... I was thinking of my friend.  He is... he is happy.  I wonder if you would say that he seemed happy."  He pet down Curiosity's back and scratched behind his ears.  "I think you would like him.  He is often curious about everything." 

Hob wanted to sob out that it was him, that Dream was right, he was happy, and that he was so curious about everything, he had ended up here.  He went to say the words, to tell Dream who he was, and found his voice stolen from him, unable to force the words out.  Instead, he sighed and nuzzled into Dream's hand again.  "I am pleased to hear that you have a friend.  Perhaps, if you are feeling out of sorts, you should visit him?"  It might have been self-serving to encourage Dream to visit him, but Hob had never claimed not to be greedy.  The chance to see Dream again, to offer him hope and care and maybe even a small bit of happiness, that was all that he could imagine from this moment. 

"Hob," Dream breathed, his voice soft as the music started to fade.  "I would not wish to impose on him."  He paused, and looked down at Curiosity.  "He has informed me I am welcome whenever I might make time, because in his words, I am busier than he is.  But still..."

Hob wanted to growl and beat it into Dream's head that he meant it when he said that he would be pleased to have Dream join him at any given time.  It was the truth and Dream would not be able to run away from it if he had any say in things.  But he couldn't do that now, not when Dream thought he was talking to Curiosity and not Hob Gadling.  "I have had a great many friends in my time," he started, and felt Dream's full attention snap to him in an instant, and the wave of power from the curiosity that swarmed over Dream was almost stifling.  Dream was curious.  He was so curious and the power had him almost drunk and he was glad he was lying down on Dream's lap.  "In my experience, when they say you are welcome, you are welcome.  It is tough to often find times to meet in life, and there is no perfect time, so to be offered welcome whenever you can make time, it is a gift.  And your friend means it, I am certain of that." 

Dream said nothing for a long time, clearly thinking over his words, and Hob cursed his clumsy wording, because he didn't want Dream to feel like he had to hold back.  He could visit as often as he wanted, and Hob would often be pleased to see him.  It didn't matter how many times that happened, or if Dream showed up and decided that he wanted to stay.  None of it mattered.  "You should visit your friend," he urged.  "Perhaps he might make you smile." 

"Perhaps... he might," Dream agreed, helping Curiosity to climb off his lap, before standing.  He looked down at the orange tabby.  "Will you be here when I return?"

Hob tilted his head and let out a meow.  "I might need to check in somewhere else, briefly, but I will return.  You have my promise that I will return."  He saw the way Dream's shoulders relaxed and he gave a flick of his tail.  "I am not giving up those pets of yours.  They're quite good you know."  That got him a surprised exhale that was almost a chuckle, even as Dream started to swirl away into sand.  Hob waited a handful of seconds before dashing through a portal.  Dream's sister had promised him that he could shift back into human form, and stepping into his flat, into his bedroom, he was as human as he had ever been and he grinned, bright and wide at the sight.  Perfect.

Hob changed his clothes quickly, and felt the lingering power in the back of his mind as Curiosity, how he could feel it from the pub downstairs and all around him, but like this, it was dimmed, and it was easy to make himself ready as he headed downstairs, right as his friend was stepping through the front door.  Dream's eyes met his and Hob didn't bother trying to keep down his smile.  He grinned and gestured to their table from last time, sitting down easily as Dream made his way over.  The tension that he had been carrying in the Dreaming was still very apparent, but there was a smile that lingered on his lips, and that counted for everything.  He couldn't look away from it, even as he knocked their boots together when Dream sat down. 

"It is good to see you, my friend.  I'm so pleased you came back."  Hob knew that he was grinning too much, and that he was going to risk being too familiar, but the idea of not being happy to see Dream was one he wouldn't allow to exist for more than a second in his own mind.  "How did you phrase it last time?" he paused.  "Ah, how have you been keeping?  Would you like a drink?" 

"It is good to see you too, my friend," Dream repeated, looking down at the table between them.  He cleared his throat and glanced up at Hob Gadling, who was still smiling at him, patient, waiting for him to answer the questions that had been thrown at him.  "Wine?" he asked, relaxing when Hob stood up to head to the bar.  He breathed in deep, taking in the atmosphere around them.  Here, it was a place of comfort and Dream looked up at the bar, almost expecting to see Curiosity lingering, watching him from one place or another, but there was no sign of the orange tabby. 

Hob came back to their table with a glass of red wine for Dream and a beer for himself, settling down at the table.  There had been no surprised panic from his bartender, so he figured whatever magic was allowing him to be human right now was also making sure that no one freaked out that their missing boss had suddenly reappeared.  He also put down a bowl of popcorn between them, taking a bite of a few before smiling at Dream.  "So?  How have you been keeping?" 

Dream looked down at the bowl between them and reached out to take one of the pieces piled high in his fingertips, studying it for a long moment before he lowered his hand and faced Hob Gadling.  Trying to explain, or even trying to figure out where to begin seemed an oddly impossible task, even with Hob Gadling, who had at least the faintest understanding of what he was and who he was.  What he was responsible for.  Hob understood, as much as he could, and Dream deserved to tell him everything.  Or at least as much as he could understand.  "A great many things happened after I left you," he said, allowing himself to feel the weight of those things.  "Repairing my realm took a back seat to a much larger problem." 

When Hob's expression went wide and shocked and fear-filled, Dream held up a hand to forestall the questions.  "All is now well.  The situation has been handled, and the woman who-" he paused, wrinkling his brow, before he continued.  Hob deserved to know a fraction about him.  They were friends.  Sharing this was well within the bounds of friendship.  "Who is my niece, and her brother, my nephew.  They are both safe now." 

Hob's eyes widened and he softened, reaching out to touch Dream's wrist as he had before.  He wanted to climb into Dream's lap and wrap him in a hug, hold him tight until he melted and let down his burdens for a few moments, but this would be the next best thing.  "You have a niece and nephew?" he asked, keeping his voice low. 

Dream's lips quirked for the barest of moments.  "I do indeed.  They are..."  They were a great many things that Rose and Jed Walker both were, but what he could share with Hob Gadling escaped him and he frowned.  "They are good.  And they are kind.  It is a wonder that they are the great grandchildren of one of my siblings."  His eyes fluttered as he remembered the rest.  "Upon finding out they existed, I also found out that one of my siblings was responsible for me being captured." 

This time, not as Curiosity, Hob let himself really feel the fury that swept through him at that announcement.  "I'll kill them," he announced cheerfully, taking a large sip of his beer.  That, at least, drew Dream's attention and he blinked in surprise.  "Know it's probably not easy to kill what you are, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't give it my best shot.  Doing that to you.  They'd deserve it." 

"You would enact such violence on my behalf?" Dream asked, lifting his wine glass to take the faintest of sips from it.  It was far easier to enjoy the taste than normal, and Dream let himself take another.  When Hob nodded, eagerly, even, Dream tempered himself to a faint smile.  "As satisfying as it might be, it is far better if they are left to their own devices.  I would not have them turn their sights on you and cause harm to you in term." 

"You know that I'd be fine," Hob pointed out.  "I would find a way to be fine." 

Dream inclined his head.  "So you would.  But even still, it is not something that I would risk.  They have caused enough trouble and enough meddling.  They should not cause anything further."  He looked down at the wine glass between them and abruptly realized that Hob's fingers were still on his wrist, where he had left them.  He studied the faint touch.  It was almost as though Hob feared doing more.  But since Curiosity had offered him comfort, he had wondered at the willingness of his friend to offer such comfort, not that there was anything he could offer in return. 

"My friend?" Hob asked, pressing his fingers a little tighter to Dream's wrist, before he moved slowly and cupped his hand around Dream's.  He didn't close his hand, just left Dream's hand resting in the palm of his.  "Is there something wrong?" 

Dream's eyes jumped up, the question so similar to Curiosity's shooting fear through him.  What was so obvious on him that anyone who could see?  He would have to scrub this weakness from himself as quickly as possible before his enemies began to use it against him.  It was a matter of time before their plotting began again, and he would need to be ready for them.  Though the thought of having to build up the defenses of the Dreaming, while he was still repairing, still fixing, still rebuilding was...

Hob watched Dream take a large breath, before it shuddered out of him in a way that made him wonder if Dream was about to cry.  "Dream?" 

The words to describe his predicament were startlingly inefficient, and Dream wanted nothing more than to run from the concern in Hob's eyes, because his friend wanted to help, because they were friends, but there was nothing that he could do.  Nothing that he could offer beyond vague platitudes, and company.  "There is a great deal of work that remains that I must tend to." 

"I'm sure," Hob agreed, keeping Dream's hand in his.  His friend had not taken it back yet, even as he seemed to be struggling with something.  "But surely you can stay for a few moments longer, and I could tell you some stories, and you could take a rest?"

"Do you presume me weak enough to need a rest?" Dream snarled, glaring at Hob. 

The force of that glare left Hob shaking in his shoes, especially in the wake of 1889, but he held his ground and met Dream's eyes.  "I presume to enjoy your company, my friend.  And with as much work as you have mentioned having, taking a rest is a natural part of that work.  It is no comment on you."  That, at least, softened the glare, even if Dream was once more tense as a board.  It was so easy to say the wrong thing, so easy to put him on the defense.  But stories he could tell, and he would.  "Let me tell you about the latest classes I taught.  I think you will find this entertaining."  He launched into a story from the previous semester, which would be more than good enough for this story, and Dream would be able to enjoy it. 

Dream settled back and observed Hob Gadling as he told his story.  There was a light, a brightness that was emanating from the man in front of him that he was incapable of basking in, wanting to soak up all of it that was offered, until he no longer felt quite so empty and shallow.  He was a being of stories and Dream loved to hear them from Hob, loved to experience the world as he saw it.  He was invited to laugh with Hob, to chuckle with him at the antics of his students, and those faculty around him.  His life was broad, and rich, though it was so much smaller in scale.  He could find joy in so many small things, and Dream envied him for the ease in which he could do so. 

Dream took another sip of his wine as Hob barely took a breath before launching into another story.  It was easy to let the story wash over him as it sank into him, again and again.  How many times would he sit back and enjoy a story without ever being a part of it?  It had been far too long since he stepped up and had participated in a story.  That realization was enough to have him settling back in his chair, discomfited, and his frown was enough to draw Hob's storytelling to a stumbling close.  He closed his eyes and looked down at the wine glass in front of him.  Perhaps this was all that he had left to offer, to steal and take the stories from others, to recycle them so they could be used again and again. 

"Dream?" Hob called, reaching out to bump their feet together.  It took another two calls of his friend's name for bright blue eyes to meet his, and the regret and sorrow there had his heart seizing in fear as he curled his hand around Dream's.  "Dream?  What's wrong?" 

"One of my names," Dream answered, continuing to stare at his wine glass.  "Was the Prince of Stories.  I was thought of as the arbiter of all stories.  It is why I have always enjoyed your storytelling, Hob Gadling.  Because all stories end and begin with me, and to hear you tell them is to have them reframed for me in such a way that I rejoice in them.  They are wonderful, and I have rarely enjoyed them as much as I do when you take the time to tell them to me." 

"Why," Hob swallowed and reached for his beer, taking a sip.  "Why do I feel like there's a 'but' attached to all of that?  What's wrong, Dream?"

Dream hummed in consideration.  "I do not know, and perhaps therein lies the problem.  If I were to know what was wrong, I could fix it.  I could cut it from me, or I could find a way to overcome it.  But a thing I cannot see or feel, save to know it is there?  That I cannot fight.  But you can.  You can continue to move forward, to keep telling stories, to be a being of stories, even if I cannot." 

Hob felt his heart stop for several agonizing beats in his chest and despite the fact that it might make Dream panic, Hob turned his hand over and squeezed Dream's hand between his.  "Dream, you are stories.  You have told me as much.  And the world will always have a need of stories." 

"Yes," Dream agreed.  "It will.  But it does not mean I need to be the one to tell them.  That piece of myself..." To give one of the most precious pieces of himself to another, the piece that had built and maintained the library, even through its partial destruction, it felt wrong, and right all at once.  If it was his destiny, his future to no longer preside over these stories, did it not make sense to entrust them to someone who would care for them as he always had?  With all of his power and all of his ability?  He lifted his eyes to Hob Gadling and saw the fear there.  "Do not worry." 

"My friend, I," Hob swallowed down the panic, the urge to draw Dream closer, as though he could keep Dream from drifting further and further away.  Already, Dream seemed less substantial, as though he were starting to fade away and he had merely needed to begin the process.  "You are scaring me.  What are you talking about?  If something is wrong, let me, please let me try to help.  I'd do anything to help you, you have to know that." 

Dream inclined his head.  "I do, and that is why I would trust this to you.  I would trust you to safekeep the most important parts of me, until it can be given to another when you no longer want it." 

Panic was making it tough to think, but Hob held onto Dream's hand harder, watching him.  "Dream.  Please.  I don't, I'll do anything that you ask, but if something is wrong, try to fix it, don't give up.  I don't..." Hob licked his lips and met Dream's eyes and all at once felt a bolt of curiosity hit him as Dream stared at him and his being shimmered into more solidity for a few seconds.  But then it was back to fading.  "I don't know what I'd do without you.  You can't go, please.  You're my touchstone, you're everything.  You, Dream.  Please." 

"Be at peace, Hob Gadling.  There will always be Dreams.  That will never not be true."  Dream reached out with his other hand and cupped his palms around Hob Gadling's, dropping a small seed shaped as a sparkling bead into his palms.  "You have been a far better friend than I ever could have deserved, Hob Gadling.  I hope that you know that." 

Hob felt a tear streak down his cheek, then another, as Dream continued to hold onto his hands.  "Dream, please.  I don't care what it is, I don't care how long it takes.  Please don't go.  Let me help you.  I want to help you, I'll do anything.  Please." 

Dream lowered his eyes to their hands.  "Keep this safe.  It belongs to you now.  You can carry it.  Perhaps you were always meant to carry it, and that is why we met."  He squeezed Hob's hands once more before he stood and felt a tremble run through his being. 

Hob stuffed the bead into his pocket, pressing it as deep as it would go, before reaching out to wrap his arms around his friend, pulling him in close by his shoulders, hugging and holding onto him tightly.  "I will keep it safe until you return to get it," he growled, even though tears were pouring down his cheeks.  "This isn't goodbye, Dream.  I'm not going to let it be goodbye.  Don't you dare tell me it is goodbye." 

Dream closed his eyes and for the briefest of seconds, he imagined leaning into the warm and comforting touch.  Imagined drinking from the warmth that Hob Gadling offered until he no longer felt empty and cold.  But then Hob would be left a husk, with nothing left to give anyone, and that was a fate his friend, his only friend, did not deserve.  So instead, he allowed himself to be held for several long and precious seconds before he smiled sadly at his friend.  "It is goodbye for now, Hob Gadling.  I wish you well.  Keep the stories safe."  He turned and stepped away from Hob, into a shroud of sand. 

~!~

Hob barely managed to make it out of the pub and into his flat before he was summoning a portal, racing into the castle as soon as he was in the Dreaming, and up the spiraling stairs of Dream's throne on four paws rather than two feet.  Ahead of him, he could see Dream, wandering into his gallery, to summon his sister, to step away, now that he had given away the most important part of him.  Dream was almost see-through, almost gone, as though he himself were fading away.  He shouted Dream's name, but there was no answer, his friend was already stepping into his gallery, so he raced up the stairs, focused on getting to him, on stopping him. 

--

Dream lingered in his gallery, looking between each of the sigils, slowly spinning in their mirrors. 

Now that he'd given a part of himself to Hob Gadling, to live on as he would, as he would continue to do, because that was what he did, Dream was able to drift to his older sibling's sigils, and stare at them for a long moment.  "I wonder if you knew, from the very beginning.  I wonder if this was written, that I would end up here, right here."  Dream stared at each of them and allowed himself a few moments to wonder, to truly be curious, about how this had been his fate.  That he was meant to feel the weight of everything he had been for millenia, to bear it, truly, for the first time, and to find it impossible.  It was not worth staying if this is what he had become.  Reaching out, he stroked his fingertips across the ankh, thinking of the warmth of Hob Gadling's arms around him in a hug, holding him tight. 

His sister had truly been right to pick him, those few centuries ago.  "Sister," he called, his voice ringing in the gallery.  "I ask to come home to the Sunless Lands.  There is one who has been born to replace me, and I have left my kingdom in the care it deserves."  Dream listed forward, curling over the ankh.  "I wish to come home, sister.  Please." 

Under his fingertips, the ankh went white, and Dream closed his eyes, the familiar brush of wings, spanning endless space and time, brushed against him, pulling him forward.  He stepped into the nothingness, the last of the weight behind him beginning to fade.  He drifted forward, walking slowly, only to find his sister standing in front of him with her hand held out.  Dream let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her.  "One final walk together, sister?"

Death nodded, her smile wobbly.  "One final walk together, brother." 

Dream ached for the pain that he had caused her, asking her to come here, to take him home, but it was as welcoming as it had always been with the humans, comforting.  She was always so comforting.  And this was a comfort that he would have no struggle taking, unlike the other that had been offered to him by Hob and by Curiosity.  He knew what waited for him, and the possibility of rest, of true rest, was one that he could not see himself denying.  It was a relief to see her, it was a relief to have her here, at the end of things. 

He reached for her hand, ready to take it, when a meow behind him made him stop.  Dream turned, looking behind him in confusion, blinking at the sight of Curiosity.  "Curiosity?  Why are you here?"  Dream lifted his hand away from his sister's and turned to look at the tabby.  "I know you do not wish to be here, it is all right.  There will be another who will be willing to accept your comfort much more readily and..."

Hob took one step forward, and then another, even as every hair on his back stood up.  The cool and promising touch of Death could be felt all around him, and he recognized (without truly recognizing her) the figure on the other side of Dream.  The one that he had to stop Dream from coming with.  Somehow.  Hell if he knew precisely how, but he was going to try to figure that out.  He was not going to lose Dream.  He was not going to let Dream walk into the sunset just because he was hurting and didn't know how to ask for help.  He was not.  He would not allow that to happen. 

Hob reached out and took the bottom of Dream's robe in his mouth, giving a mighty pull around the flames that licked at the base of his feet.  He took a step back, and then another, trying to pull the Dream that was losing substantialness by the second back with him.  'Come with me.  Be curious again.  Once more, a thousand times more.  Be curious with me about tomorrow, and what it could hold.'  It was, perhaps, a foolish wish, considering where they were standing, but it was one he was going to wish a thousand times over.  Anything to stop Dream from taking those final steps forward. 

Dream looked down at Curiosity and turned away from Death briefly to kneel in front of the orange tabby who had been such a comfort in the last little while.  The creature that was part Endless, just like Hob Gadling would be, with an Endless seed growing in him.  "You have been of great comfort to me, Curiosity.  I know that's what you wished for.  But there is nothing left for me to be curious about.  It is time for me to rest.  I have earned this rest, and done my duty.  And now-"

Hob yanked harder on the robes, protesting those words with a loud whine around them.  It edged into a growl as he glared at Dream, unable to keep from glaring at him.  He was not about to let Dream, his Stranger, his Friend, go.  No matter if he thought it was time and he had to keep Dream anchored here himself, that is what he would do.  He would never let go, he was never about to let go.  Not for a second. 

"It is all right, Curiosity, it will be well," Dream soothed, his voice softening, reaching out to pet behind the ears of the orange tabby.  "It will be well.  There will be a new Dream, and he will-"

"Dream," Death interrupted, her voice soft.  "Do you not know who that is?"

Hob's eyes flew to Death and the recognition in them had him tensing with fear, but also with worry for Dream.  If this was something that upset his friend enough that he decided to leave, he would never be able to forgive himself. 

Dream frowned, twisting to look over his shoulder at her.  "It is the personification of Curiosity.  I spoke with Delirium briefly, and she informed me it had manifested and had been drawn to me when I returned." 

Delirium.  That had to be who Dream's little sister was.  The one who had charged him to save Dream, who had brought him into her realm that was so wild and colorful it made his brain ache.  The one who was keeping his human form locked, except in very specific circumstances.  Her name was Delirium. 

"He," Death said with a smile, looking down at the orange tabby who had refused to release Dream.  "Is undoubtedly precisely that.  But this is not his natural form, merely the one that is able to follow you through realms and to far more easily traverse the Dreaming, which is why I suspect that he is locked into it as he has been."  She raised her eyebrows at the cat.  "Why didn't you tell him who you were?" 

Hob gestured to Dream and opened his mouth, giving an annoyed meow.  "When I tried to, I couldn't.  But when he first asked, the answer didn't feel right.  Before I found out who I was." 

Death hummed, nodding as she stepped up beside Dream.  "Why did Delirium send you to Dream?" 

Hob looked between the two siblings, wondering just how much he could say and not lose his oldest friend.  But if it would save his life, wasn't it worth anything?  "I was supposed to help someone.  That's what she told me.  I had to help.  Then, then I found out it was Dream.  And I had to try to make him curious again.  Make him laugh."  He looked to the side.  "She said that she knew things, and that Dream was in trouble.  She wanted me to help." 

'I know things too!'

Dream could hear the echo of Delirium's assertion, the fact that she knew things, more than some of them, since her change.  Things that the rest of them had not discovered and could not know.  He drew his attention to the tabby cat, smiling sadly.  Of course Curiosity would have only approached him if ordered to do so, he would never have been enough of a draw on his own.  He should have challenged Delirium on that, right then and there.  "You have helped," he said, his voice soft.  "And I thank you for it, but now-"

Hob growled around the robe in his mouth and released it, jumping up and onto Dream's chest, digging his claws into the folds on either side of his robe, and burying his face in the cool skin of Dream's neck.  He knew so many things, and he could help so much more.  He could feel it now, this close, with this much power from earlier still flowing through him.  Dream had been curious about everything, once.  About humans, their stories, the stars, his Dreamers, his creations, all of him, brimming with curiosity that was insatiable, until his duty had robbed him of all of it. 

Dream closed his eyes and carefully pet down the back of Curiosity, even as he clung tighter, digging his claws in until he could feel the prick of them against the skin of his vessel.  It was tight enough, and strong enough, that it reminded him of a hug he had had not too long ago now.  How he had been held just as tightly, just as strongly, and clung to as desperately.  Fingers that had dug into his shoulders, holding on until he'd had to let go and...

Dream's eyes snapped open.  "Hob!"

In an instant, whatever it was that Delirium had done that was keeping him locked to the orange tabby form, Hob felt it fall away, and in an instant, it was easy to become human once again, and he and Dream were sprawled on the not-ground, with him in Dream's lap.  He let out a rough breath and shuddered, and took brief stock of himself, before meeting Dream's eyes once more.  He could feel the shift now, if he wanted to reach for it, if he wanted to slip it back on like a familiar coat, but this was one he had not worn for longer than he could remember, and it almost felt as though it didn't fit any longer.  But that didn't matter.  He could worry about that more later.  Right now, the only thing that mattered was Dream. 

"Got it in one," Hob breathed, shuddering as he held onto the edges of Dream's robes.  "Didn't think I'd make it to you in time after you raced out of the New Inn as fast as you did."  All at once, it was easy to see everything.  To see why Delirium had given him the Endless Seed.  He was predisposed to not be turned off by Dream being himself.  Hob was already his friend, and had already understood some of his struggles.  It was just as easy to see why it had manifested in him, why it had grown markedly stronger every single day.  He'd been made to save Dream, because Delirium had seen the path Dream was going down, had understood what he needed, and what was missing. 

"Why are you here?" Dream asked, thinking of the way Hob had begged him to stay in the Waking.  He had not attempted to move, and was still clinging to his robe just as tightly.  "How are you here?" 

"Someday," Hob breathed, lifting his eyes to look at Dream.  "I'll tell you of the day that I met Delirium, and how it happened, and that she charged me with being something I have always been.  Something that she needed to give me so I could try to save you."  He smiled and continued to watch Dream's eyes stay locked on him.  "My friend," he continued, his voice softening.  "I am here to give you back something you lost.  Something that you need, desperately."  His lips quirked.  "You were curious enough, for only a moment, for me to be able to do my work." 

"Your-"

Hob tilted his head a fraction more and leaned up, sealing their lips together.  The second they touched, he felt the moment Dream had been curious about, the one that had been like a lightning strike in the New Inn.  His friend had wondered, had been curious, what it would be like to kiss him.  For only a few seconds, before it had been buried under duty.  It had been gone before he'd been able to do anything about it, but now?  Now he could.  Now, Hob kissed Dream until he was being kissed back, until their lips were moving against each other, slow and hesitant, before he removed the leash on his own power.  It flooded out of him in a tidal wave and directly into Dream.

He'd been careful, over the past few months, in how he tended the Endless Seed that he had been given.  Being curious about anything and everything had served him well and it was something he had no intention of being anything less.  Hob poured all of it, all the power that he had been gathering, all of his love and interest in the Dreaming, everything about Dream himself, back into his friend.  His friend had always been a curiosity himself, in the literal and physical sense, but right now, he focused every bit of that power back into Dream.  And this close, with their lips sealed together, he could feel the repressed curiosity spanning millions of years that had been suppressed after Delight had changed and Delirium could no longer bring out the same childlike joy in Dream as easily as she once had. 

Hob grabbed those long-buried curious moments that could have led to thousands of Dreams, of ideas and hopes, and everything that made Dream what he was, and let them flood into Dream.  With it, he took the seed that Dream had given him, and shoved it back into his chest, giving him his stories back, even when Dream jolted beneath him.  An instant later, he was shoved backward from Dream, their lips falling apart as they panted.  He landed on the not ground, sprawled a few feet away from where Dream had pushed him and stared at his friend. 

"What have you done!?" Dream thundered, towering over Hob Gadling.  "What did you do to me?"

Hob breathed in deep and closed his eyes.  Whatever Dream did to him now didn't matter.  He would endure it, because now, perhaps.  Now, his friend would have enough curiosity to live.  To see the next day.  He'd saved him, exactly as Delirium had bid.  The cost of that saving did not matter.  It never had, after all.

"I gave your curiosity back to you," he announced.  "Made you remember what it was like to be curious.  To be filled with wonder."  Hob blinked his eyes open and stared at the endless white above him.  "How could you ever create dreams without wonder and curiosity?  They drive imagination, hope, stories, everything that you are and always have been, Dream."  Hob licked his lips and tilted his head back down to look at his beyond furious friend and managed a weak smile for him.  "I have heard you say again and again that you are your function, that that is what you are.  But it is not all that you are, and you should best begin believing that.  You deserve to be curious." 

Hob forced himself to his feet, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Dream, even as his friend stood as well.  His head was swimming with the amount of power that he'd pushed through himself into Dream, his entire body aching under the weight of it all.  "You, you think you're done.  You're tired, exhausted, and you think you've fulfilled all that you are.  That you can just, just leave all of us, and pass the mantle on and that's it!  As though you never mattered to us at all.  You matter!" Hob shouted the words, and they echoed in the blank space around them.  "You have always mattered, especially to me!  And I was not about to let you go without a fight!"

Dream lowered his hands to either side of him and glared at Hob Gadling.  "You have made a terrible mistake." 

"Have I?" Hob challenged, glaring right back at him.  "I"m curious, Dream.  Just how much of a mistake did I make, huh?  Tell me." 

"I am my function," Dream stated. 

"You're also a being that loves stories!" Hob growled.  "They all begin and end with you.  Are you not curious about all of the stories that will be written?  Yes, they may return to their original forms, but I refuse to believe in the years that lie ahead, there will not be a single story that is not new and engaging for you to read!"  His chest heaved, and he watched Dream snap his mouth shut.  "You're a being who was curious, at least once, about how it would feel to kiss me.  I know, I felt it!"  Hob took a step closer to him.  "You were curious about Rose, and how she and her brother were doing, because they are your family and you want to know more about them, even with everything that happened!"

Dream sighed and closed his eyes slowly, reopening them to look at Hob.  "Hob-"

"No," Hob snarled, stepping closer to Dream, even as he stumbled, doing his best to keep his feet.  "Your sister, no offense, gave you shit advice.  You don't need to bury yourself in your function.  In fact that's the last thing you need to do, because it's suffocating you!" He waved to Dream, a sprawling gesture.  "You've been doing that for centuries, and it's killing you!" 

Those words, spoken so plainly in the white room, echoed, as Hob heaved and tried to keep his balance.  Hob reached up and wiped a tear out of his eye, still glaring at Dream.  "You are creativity incarnate.  Without limits, Dream."  Hob knew he was begging, pleading now, but it was all that he had left.  "Aren't you curious, Dream?  About what Rose could grow up to be?  The dreams that she'll have?  About how Jed is going to do and heal after everything?  What adventures he might have next?  About..." he trailed off and looked up to meet Dream's eyes once more, before offering softly.  "About me?" 

"Hob Gadling," Dream said, his voice soft.  "You are my friend." 

Hob smiled, weak and wobbly, because he would never tire of hearing those words, no matter how many times they were spoken.  "And you're mine, Dream."  He swallowed, hard, wiping at his eyes.  "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious." He paused and smiled faintly, taking another step closer to where Dream was standing, swaying, as though he were caught in a spell that Hob was weaving over him. "I'm curious about how it would feel to kiss you again. Properly. That was hardly my best."  He watched Dream's eyes widen and he could feel the curiosity rising in Dream just as much.  "I'm curious about how it would feel to wrap you in my arms and hold on until both of us are ready to let go, not just because I'm worried that you're going to run."  He chewed on his lip and didn't look away from Dream.  It was the truth, as agonizing as it might have been to detail it all out like that. 

Dream opened his mouth to protest, to deny it, shaking his head, but now that the floodgates had been opened, now that he had been swarmed with Curiosity's power, he could feel those images, daydreams of his own, rising.  The same curiosity that tasted of Hob Gadling and the hope that exuded from his every pore.  The certainty that Dream was worth saving, that he was worth all of this effort, and curious as to what their future could hold.  He swayed once more, arrested by the not-story that Curiosity continued to paint of him, of them.  Of there being a them.  Something that had been impossible until just now, painted out for him.  "Soon," Dream started.  "It would become consistent.  The same.” He had seen how this story ended, again and again.  “I would no longer be a curious thing to you."  The magic would fade.  The light would follow, and Hob's, Curiosity's eyes would no longer sparkle when they looked at him. 

Hob laughed and reached out to stroke along Dream's cheek, until they were almost touching and reached out to cup Dream's jaw in his hands, looking at him.  "You are the collective unconscious, love.  There is no limit to what you are, what you will be, and who you could become.  I'm so curious about all of it, all of what you are, all that you could show me, share with me, teach me.  You can feel it, can't you?"  He didn't want to beg Dream to be able to feel all of that, but at the same time, if he could not, there would be no making it obvious to him.  He wanted nothing more than to prove this to Dream, for him to hear the truth and to believe it, down to the deepest parts of him.

Brimming with Curiosity's power, Dream could feel it.  The interest, the delight, the joy, all of it couched in a human who sought the possibility of the next day as though it were his own personal religion.  The potential of what Hob Gadling dared to offer him as an Endless, what he'd managed to unlock once more... Dream closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the true breadth of what had been buried for so long.  The warm hands on his chin kept him grounded as he reached for the fountain of ideas that was not an empty cup, but an endless waterfall, filling him with inspiration that was brimming with possibility and delight.  He gasped, and felt a forehead press against his. 

"She knew," Hob breathed, his voice a whisper, even as Dream's starry eyes flickered open to stare at him, the weight of those words echoing between them.  "She knows that it had been taken out of your reach when she lost it, when she couldn't bring it forward as easily.  So she gave it to me.  To hold and give back to you, because this is what I am.  You know it, your sister knows it.  It is the truth of what I am, and always will be."  

Hob slowly dragged a thumb across Dream's cheek when a tear finally broke free of the silvered waterline, where they were gathered and sparkling on Dream's eyelashes.  "You are so much more than your function, Dream.  You always have been.  There is so much more that can be a part of your life beyond your function.  But it starts here, it must.  Right here.  You have to be just the tiniest bit curious yourself.  It cannot be something I have given to you.  I can help you remember how, but I cannot do it for you." 

Hob paused and felt Dream tremble in front of him, his whole body threatening to shake under the weight of what Hob was putting in front of him.  "You have to wonder, the smallest amount.  A tiny seed, just like I was given, that needs to grow in you just like it has in me.  What could happen?" 

With those words, Hob settled in to wait, because there would be no rushing his decision from Dream.  Death had long since left them to where they were, this strange in-between place that Dream had fallen to.  There was a moment, as Dream watched him, where Hob expected him to turn and follow his sister where she had gone, but then Dream sank to his knees, his head falling back.  Dream took a single, heaving breath, and then all of himself that he kept restrained, that Hob had only ever seen the faintest amounts of, burst free, surrounding them.  It was so much more than he ever could have imagined, even as Curiosity, more than Dream had used in his repairs of the Dreaming, and more than he had thought it possible for Dream to carry at one time.  He was so much, all of it, an Endless flood that filled them in wave after wave. 

When it finally ended, when the last blast of Dream, and everything that he contained, settled at last around them, Hob did not feel like he was drowning, even though he was certain that he was.  There was a soft hand holding onto him, keeping him from drifting away, from being lost in the waves of everything that Dream was, and Hob clung to it, until he was standing amongst the riotous parts of Dream that had been spilled into the world around him.  Dream was floating at the center of it, all of the color bleeding out of him and into him all at once. 

"Dream?" Hob managed the word, but it felt muffled, like there was too much around them for his call to reach his friend.  The hand holding him gave an impatient tug, but it was pulling him away from Dream, and Hob pulled against it.  No, he couldn't leave Dream, not like this.  He was not going to leave his friend.  He was not going to abandon Dream to drowning in everything that he was.  "Dream!"  He pulled harder, as did the hand on his wrist, reaching out for his friend who was still at the middle of the swirling tornado of colors.  "Help him, someone has to help him!  Dream!"  Hob shouted louder, but he was swiftly being pulled away and the image of Dream was getting smaller and smaller, and he couldn't fight against whatever had a hold of him.  He was going to lose sight of Dream, and he couldn't do that, he needed to be closer. 

At last, the endless white was gone, and Hob, in his human form, was standing at the base of the stairs that led to Dream's throne.  Hob panted hard and stared up at the throne, waiting for Dream to appear.  His friend would follow, he would.  He would.  Hob clenched his hand into a fist as he heard first Lucienne, then Matthew, come running into the throne room, both of them freezing at the sight of him.  "Come back," Hob ordered, staring up at the platform that Dream liked to sit on.  But there was no sign of him yet.  His heart felt like it was caving in on itself, but he refused to believe that Dream had let him go.  He refused. 

"Where... is he?"

Hob didn't answer, he kept staring at the platform, willing Dream to appear, to follow him back into the Dreaming.  But there was no sign of him, and no matter how long he kept his vigil, Dream didn't appear.  He wiped frantically at the tears on his cheek and waited.  He was good at waiting, he could wait.  But still, the throne sat empty, and the throne room sat emptier.  Lucienne had said nothing, and had stepped into her role as running things around the Dreaming while Dream was indisposed.  And still Hob waited.  He would not believe that Dream had left. 

Day changed to night, to day, to night, until Hob lost track of time.  His heart was a raw, aching thing, but he would not give up hope yet.  Dream could not have left, and he had to believe that.  He had too, or something in him would break and he would never get it back.  But when a raven approached (Matthew), there was a sinking feeling that settled into his heart that he could not deny. 

"Luce says it would be best if you went back to the Waking.  You're making the Dreams and Nightmares nervous," Matthew said, hopping closer to Hob.  "You can, soon as I know anything bud, and I'd be one of the first to feel him if and when he comes back-"

"He will," Hob snarled, the words the first he had spoken in days. 

"Right, right," Matthew said with another hop.  "I will be the first to feel him when he does, and I will tell you right away." 

Hob turned to look at Matthew and knew that he was right, because it was what would be best for Dream's people, and he had never wanted to be a burden on those who had already gone through so much with Dream's absence.  Putting anything on them was unfair, and the last thing that he wanted to do was add to that pressure that he knew Lucienne had to be feeling at the moment.  He shook his head and turned away from the vigil that he had been keeping.  Something shattered in him, as he tore his eyes away at last, and he took a step away.  Matthew said something, but Hob held up a hand and shook him off.  He didn't want to hear it.  He couldn't.  Dream had made his choice, and it was one he would... he would have to learn to accept. 

Hob stepped into the Waking, and his old life as though nothing had ever changed.  A family emergency had happened, he had filed a leave of absence, and now the university would welcome him back as soon as the new semester started in a few weeks.  It was easy.  It was almost too easy, and Hob hated it.  Hated that he would never see his friend walk through the doors of the New Inn again.  That he would never get to feel what it would be like to have a hug from Dream, after trying to hug him as gently as possible.  He'd imagined what Dream's hugs might feel like, but it always depended on what he was feeling at the time.  Right now, he would have given anything, damn near anything, to feel and see Dream one more time. 

Dawn rose on the next day and Hob forced himself to get out of his flat, to go for a walk, to taste and breathe in the curiosity of others around him.  A few hours of walking as a human had him shifting to being a cat, where everything was so much easier and simpler.  He didn't need to talk to or interact with anyone and could go wherever he pleased, including lounging on the roof of the New Inn for hours at a time.  It kept the pigeons away at least, and that was a small benefit that he wasn't going to say no to.  But whenever he thought of the Inn, thoughts of Dream were not far behind them, and Hob ached with how much he missed his friend.  His friend who could have been so much more. 

But it didn't matter any longer.  Dream had made his choice, just like Hob had told him.  He'd had to make a choice, had to try to find a little of his own curiosity, a little of his own wonder, and if he couldn't, then this would be for the best.  Even if it hurt like hell right now.  The last thing he needed to do was lose his own curiosity and wonder, but Hob found it hard to do anything but be curious about how a relationship between them would have worked.  It probably wouldn't have.  Not for lack of trying, of course.  He would have done everything in his power to make it work.  But Dream was a very busy personification and would not want to be dragged down by Hob's more human natures. 

Though, when they had been at their happiest together, it had been the two of them lounging in the sun in Fiddler's Green. 

It was bordering on torture imagining it, and when Hob had ended up there, one night, while Dreaming, he had sobbed loud enough to wake himself up and buried his face in the pillow to cry and cry until his whole body ached.  Even chugging three glasses of water didn't help keep him from being dizzy as he crawled back into bed and fell apart once more.  He'd lost his friend, his oldest friend, the only one who knew him, who knew what he was, his best and worst moments, and now...

Hob clenched his fingers tighter in the pillows beneath him and forced himself to take a deep breath,  even when he hiccuped through it.  Heartache would pass.  Even if it took decades, even if it felt like it would never fade and it had been carved into the very core of his being.  It would fade, and eventually he would be able to move on.  He would be able to think of his friend with a fond smile.  Of the times, few as they were, shared together.  Perhaps, whoever would step into Dream's role next would remember him as well and he wouldn't be alone in remembering him. 

It was a small solace, but it was something, and Hob clung to it, tighter than he had any right to. 

Whenever he slept, he transformed into Curiosity and stayed away from the castle and Fiddler's Green.  He made his way across the Dreaming, avoiding the Dreams and Nightmares that tried to pull him into sleep so he could get proper rest.  He didn't want it.  Didn't want to know that they were still waiting for Dream (would they wait forever, or would things happen like they had last year?), or that the new Dream had stepped into his role.  All of it made him sick to think about, so Hob did his best to avoid all of it, keeping to himself as he slunk around the edges of the Dreaming, exploring and finding small little things to drive his Curiosity and prevent him from fading. 

Delirium didn't appear to him again. 

Probably because he'd failed.  He'd tried, he'd tried so hard, but he hadn't been able to save her brother, and that hurt almost as bad as losing Dream did.  To know that someone had trusted him to help and he hadn't been able to.  That he'd tried as hard as he damn well could, but it hadn't been enough.  He hadn't been enough, and next to a being like Dream, was that even a surprise?  Everything he'd seen at the end, every part of Dream unleashed, far more than his mind could comprehend, all of it threatening to swallow him, it had been beautiful, and he would have gladly been consumed by it.  Even if it had meant losing himself, he would have done that, so willingly, for Dream.  In a second.  

~!~

Piece by piece, Hob cobbled his life together once more. 

He made plans for his next life, trying to find what would drive his curiosity, before deciding that another travel tour was in order.  It was easier to make IDs for that sort of travel and then disappear when he needed to.  Far less likely to garner the attention of those who were looking, too, something he needed to stay on top of.  He would miss the New Inn, like a limb, especially now that Dream had been there, and it housed his only remaining memories of his friend, but Hob was becoming more and more certain that if he didn't leave, he would be trapped there until someone realized he wasn't aging.  Though people didn't burn witches in this day and age, he wasn't willing to risk coming under that level of scrutiny. 

So he took a deep breath and made plans.  It'd take another couple of years for everything to be ready as he had requested, and to have the things built and the stashes built up like he wanted, but that was more than enough time to finish everything that he had in front of him.  At the very least, having those plans made those around him stop asking what had happened to him or who had died.  He hadn't been willing to accept that Dream had taken his sister's hand, even when they asked, so he had avoided the question again and again, letting them make their own assumptions.  It didn't matter.  He had to believe that Dream still alive. 

Even if it wasn't true, he had to believe it. 

The bell above the door in the New Inn rang and Hob stubbornly ordered himself to keep his eyes on the papers in front of him.  He needed to finish grading them, and he was curious to see what his students had selected for their extra credit answer.  There was something, at least, pulling at him, pulling at the power within him, and Hob allowed himself the faintest of smiles as he marked off another row of answers.  It wouldn't take him long to finish this now that he had a proper answer key written up, it was only the essay part-

A throat cleared. 

Hob looked up, ready to glare at whoever had interrupted him, because he was in the middle of...

He stared at Dream, his Dream, the familiar all-black ensemble almost out of place in the summer heat, shock rippling over him in waves as he nearly knocked the table over in his hurry to stand up.  "Dream!"

"Hello Hob," Dream answered.  "It is good to see you." 

Hob shoved the table out of the way and ignored the way his hip was going to regret that in the morning and made his way in front of Dream, cataloguing everything else that seemed to be the same.  Same jeans, Doc Martens, shirt, and coat.  Same spiky black hair, and same blue eyes that crinkled the smallest amount at the corners.  "You're," he swallowed, panic still flooding him as he stared at the personification in front of him.  "You're, you're still you?  You're not a different Dream, are you?"  He shook, trying to hold himself still, not wanting to impose, to demand too much, but Dream was here, he was finally here. 

Dream smiled again and dipped his chin, nodding once.  "It is me, Hob." 

"Oh thank fuck," Hob breathed, and cupped Dream's face in his palms and yanked him in for a desperate kiss.  There was a wolf whistle from behind the bar, and several cheers across the pub, but he didn't care about any of it, because Dream was pressing up and into the kiss, thin arms were wrapping around him to hold on tighter, and Hob wanted to sob into the kiss, because it was everything he'd ever wanted, especially when Dream's free hand cupped his face and kept him pulled in close.  By the time they broke apart for air, he was panting, and there were tears streaming down his cheeks as he leaned in to press their foreheads together.  "Dream." 

"I'm here, Hob," Dream repeated, reaching up to comb his fingers through Hob's hair, brushing it back from his face.  "May I bring you upstairs?  I would like for us to talk." 

Hob had never packed up his things so quickly, and he wiped off his face and took Dream's hand, hauling him upstairs to his flat, tossing his bag off his shoulder by the door, before striding into the kitchen to make tea.  Dream followed behind him, his feet bare of his doc martens, and his arms bare.  A quick glance showed his jacket hanging up and his shoes placed in the hallway, a sight Hob had to stare at for several seconds to even believe was real, before he went back into automatic mode and got them both mugs. 

"You're in shock," Dream surmised, watching as Hob went about the steadying rhythm of making tea, putting the bags in the mugs, reaching for the hot water just as it finished boiling, filling both of them to allow them to steep.  There was a shakiness to his limbs that was present, and his eyes kept darting over, as though he was afraid that he would disappear.  "Hob.  Will you look at me?" 

Hob swallowed and put both his hands on the counter, before he lifted his eyes to look at Dream, to meet the concern in his eyes and feel his heart, which had been mourning his friend, and everything that they had potentially lost together for what felt like weeks now.  He didn't know how to feel, or where they were going to go from here.  Dream had kissed him back, had held him tight, but that didn't mean anything.  Not really. 

"I'm here," Dream said, keeping his eyes on him.  "I am here." 

The weight of those words, as though Dream were saying them with the gravity that he might believe them, had Hob trembling and he looked at the steeped tea in front of him.  How long had Dream been gone?  How long had he waited in the Dreaming, only to be sent here to try to return to his life.  He swallowed and nodded once.  "I know," he whispered.  "I know you're here." 

It was almost torture not to ask what had happened, to demand answers, to know where Dream had been, what he had been doing, how they had ended up like this, and why it had taken Dream so long to come back.  He wanted to know, wanted to demand to know.  Even though it wasn't his place to demand those sorts of answers.  If Dream wanted to tell him, he could.  He swallowed again and reached out to take out the tea bags, putting them to the side and adding cream and sugar to both their mugs, pushing Dream's toward him, before he lifted his to take a sip of the scalding drink.  At least this was real. 

"It is good to see you again, Dream," Hob finally managed, after he'd taken another two sips and definitely burnt his tongue.  It was worth it to make sure that things were real.  That what was happening around him was the truth in every possible way.  He couldn't handle it if he had to lose Dream again, if he got ripped away from him and had to lose him all over again. 

Dream looked down at the mug of tea and wrapped his hands around it.  "You will not ask, will you?"

Hob tensed, his shoulders hunching.  "I, I might have pried when I was Curiosity, but I-"

Dream hummed, interrupting him.  "But where I welcomed it when you were Curiosity, I punished you for it as yourself."  He nodded.  "I have erred in this way." 

Steeling himself, ordering himself to be brave, to face whatever was about to happen, Hob forced himself to ask.  "What happened?  At, at the end there?" 

"Many things," Dream allowed.  "To you, is perhaps the easiest thing to start with.  Delirium pulled you away from me.  I owe her a great debt for this.  You would have drowned, and possibly been trapped in the Dreaming forever if you had stayed.  I would not have wished that for you, not under any circumstance.  She removed you to make sure that it didn't happen."  He paused and looked up at Hob.  "I heard you fighting to get back to me." 

Hob swallowed and wiped away a tear that wanted to escape, clearing his throat.  "Yeah, of course I fucking did," he grumbled, rolling his shoulders.  "I thought I was going to lose you if I didn't stay with you, and I didn't know what was happening.  What happened to you?"

Dream looked back down at the tea mug and rubbed his thumb along the rim of it, letting out a considering hum.  "I do not, know if there is an accurate way to describe what happened, but the closest I can articulate it, perhaps.  Is that I was destroyed, and then remade by the Dreaming." 

"Destroyed?" Hob asked, his voice cracking on the word.  "You were destroyed?" 

"Not, in the sense that you are imagining it," Dream answered, looking at the mug, before he looked around at the room.  He pooled sand into his hand and held it out to Hob.  "Imagine a material that is, and can be, constantly in flux."  He formed a shape, himself, his vessel, but made sure Hob could clearly see it was still made of sand.  "It is never one thing, but many things, to many different creations, all at once, all at the same time."  He turned his hand, so the image would change every few seconds, but it was still the same figure. 

"When you flooded me with Curiosity's power..." Dream let the sand change, and a series of shining bright crystals moved through the sand figure, one after another, until it was almost entirely mixed with the sand.  "It was a return to a form I had once been, and I could feel that."  He shifted himself again and grew the figure taller and taller.  "But because I am the Dreaming, your power also did this to the Dreaming.  Had it been confined to my form, there would have been no issue.  But because the Dreaming itself was also reset with your gift..." Dream gestured to the sand that exploded outward, the figure disappearing as everything was wiped clean and replaced, now with the diamond dust inside it, and the figure regrown.  "Everything was remade." 

There was a part of him that wanted to rub his forehead and say that none of that made sense.  But the part of him that was Endless, like Dream, the curious part of him that had given Dream back what he lost, understood, and he nodded.  "So the Dreaming was also affected?" 

Dream nodded once.  "It was what took me so long to reform."  He lifted his eyes to Hob's, briefly.  "I could feel you waiting.  You knew to wait.  You were right to do so.  You knew I would return, and you knew not to leave.  But it took me much longer than I expected."  He gave Hob another glance.  "The Dreaming, in my absence, is thousands of times larger than it was when I left, and I had not grown with it.  That disparity was why it took me so long to return.  As soon as I did, and ensured all was well, I came here." 

Hob took a longer sip of his tea and sniffled into it.  It was the best possible outcome for what had happened.  Dream might have still been hurting, but now he was curious again.  He smiled, from time to time.  He looked happier, and his lips were just the tiniest bit pink from where Hob had bit them earlier while they kissed.  He was beautiful, and Hob wanted him, as much as he had always wanted Dream.  But he had always known that Dream wasn't his to have, no matter what his heart had cried out for.  That didn't mean he was any less curious, because he was, but Dream deserved to have what he wanted, and now he would be able to have that. 

"I'm so glad to know that you're all right," Hob said, and it was honesty, when he smiled at Dream, even after he finished his tea, putting the mug down.  "I was so worried." 

Dream nodded and turned his attention to the mug of tea once more.  "I have... I do, miss your presence.  In the Dreaming.  As Curiosity."  He rubbed his thumb against the edge of the mug.  "You will... not stay away?"  He lifted his eyes to look up at Hob. 

The hope in Dream's eyes, the longing there, had Hob aching, and he wanted to pull Dream into another kiss, into his lap, and never let him move, ever again.  He would kiss Dream every single way that he knew, and then a thousand more, until he had sated his curiosity and discovered a thousand other things to be curious over about Dream.  Hob managed a smile and nodded.  "I will not stay away," he confirmed.  "You are still my friend, Dream.  Always will be, as far as I am concerned.  You're not getting rid of me that easily." 

"Friends," Dream repeated, frowning, his nose wrinkling.

Hob ordered himself not to panic, because Dream didn't show any signs of anger or frustration, only hurt confusion.  He could be storming out again, but he wasn't, not yet, and he cleared his throat.  "I, yes?" 

"And if I am..." Dream paused, before putting the mug down, standing up.  He moved around the counter to stand next to Hob Gadling, reaching out to tug on his arm until Hob was facing him.  "If I am... curious?” 

Hob's breath caught and his eyes widened as he stared up at Dream.  "What are you curious about, Dream?" 

"If I am curious... about kissing you all the ways you daydream about?"  He took a step forward and reached out to press his thumb to Hob's lower lip.  "If I am curious about how you would court me, and I may court you?"  He stepped closer still, his other hand going to Hob's waist, tugging him closer.  "If I am curious about how I might love you, because I suspect you have loved me for a very long time?"  He paused, watching Hob's eyes carefully.  "How might the personification of Curiosity suggest we proceed?" 

Every single use of the word curious sent a bolt of heat and power flooding through him, but Hob was locked in place, transfixed as Dream moved closer and closer, surrounding him so completely it was everything he could do not to shake apart under the teasing.  At Dream's final question, his heart leaping into his throat, and unable to keep the grin off his cheeks, Hob turned and pressed a kiss to Dream's thumb against his lips.  "I think that I might keep you curious about some of those for a little bit longer," he breathed, still grinning.  "Some of the fun is in the discovery after all." 

When Dream's thumb was pulled away from his lips, a rueful smile on his face, Hob reached up and tangled his fingers into Dream's hair and pulled him into another desperate kiss.  All at once, Dream came alive again, holding onto him tightly, tugging him closer and more insistently as they both leaned into it, even as Hob felt himself get pressed back against the counters.  Everything else, the courting, the proper confessions, all of it could wait, because it would be a very long time before he wanted to stop kissing Dream.  And he was curious just how long Dream could hold his breath while they kissed, which made Dream chuckle against his lips. 

Hob pulled back to stare at Dream with a raised eyebrow, his own lips feeling red and bruised, a perfect mirror for Dream's, and that was enough to have his heart skipping.  "What is it?" 

"I suspect you will find a boundless amount of things to be curious about," Dream said, cupping Hob's face once more, pulling him into another kiss.  "And I am eager to indulge all the daydreams I can see." 

Hob nodded and leaned into the kiss, before he broke it and buried his face in Dream's neck, wrapping his arms around the skinny man in front of him.  "Let me hold onto you for a few minutes first?  I just want to remind myself that you're here and this isn't a dream." 

"Oh but it is a dream," Dream whispered.  "Your Dream, as a matter of fact.  Pulled directly from your fantasies for you to enjoy here, in the Waking world.  I thought it fitting to give you such indulgence."  He shifted them and wrapped Hob into his arms, cradling Curiosity, Hob, close, nuzzling into his hair.  It was the work of a moment to lift Hob, one arm behind his back and another under his knees, carrying him over to the couch, before he sat down with Hob in his lap, where he seemed determined to press as close as he could. 

Hob muffled his laugh in Dream's shoulder as he was carried like a damsel over to the couch, and then situated properly in his lap and leaned in to press his nose to Dream's neck, nuzzling in against the pale skin.  It felt real.  Everything about this felt real, Dream's arms around him, the quiet thrum of Dream's power that he could feel under him that was radiating off the other Endless and the longer they sat here together, the weaker the suffocating grief felt.  "I do love you, you know.  Impossible creature.  I don't know how I couldn't love you after we played tag together in Fiddler's Green.  Was gone for you a long time before that, but that just made me sure."

Dream chuckled and tightened his arms around Hob.  "I would very much like it if you still visited the Dreaming as Curiosity.  I have missed you there the past day." 

Hob let out a shaky exhale and shifted so he could wrap his arms around Dream's skinny chest, nodding against him.  "I'd love to.  Can't be there all the time, but I would love to be able to come and visit whenever I am in the Dreaming." 

Dream reached up and combed his fingers through Hob's hair, humming. 

Hob felt the zing of power hit him and shuddered, panting against Dream's neck.  Dream had been curious about his hair.  How soft it was, and now that he'd started, he was flooded with everything else.  How curious Dream was about how he would sound in bed together.  How curious Dream was about Hob's preferences, how he would enjoy being loved.  He was curious about everything, and Hob groaned against Dream's neck and leaned up to nip at Dream's jaw.  "I'm an emotional wreck and you're going to turn me into a horny mess, that isn't fair love." 

"What can I say," Dream breathed, his voice soft as he tipped Hob's chin toward him, catching those familiar brown eyes.  "I'm curious."

#Aria Posts #Dreamling #centennial husbands #Centennial Husbands Big Bang #Sadman Server #Full Fic Post #CHECK THE TAG WARNING AT THE TOP OF THE POST FOR FIC TAGS

[my-mt-heart]

Why Explicit Caryl Canon Matters

Daryl and Carol (Caryl) fans make up a large portion of the spinoff's audience, and this audience wholeheartedly believes that Daryl and Carol are each other's only choice. It's in the writing. It's also reinforced by cast, crew, and EPs. For example, Norman has repeatedly said “If Daryl falls in love, it's forever."

There's a misconception that Carylers are a bunch of hysterical saps – fans who only want their ship "fucking under the stars" and only care about Daryl because of Carol, but that’s not true. In reality, Caryl fans are the deepest, most intuitive thinkers in the TWD community. To them, story matters. While they recognize and adore all of the subtext, they understand that it's supposed to lead to something worth the 13-year wait. They're expecting that major sense of relief and joy from watching explicit, undeniable, canon.

Explicit canon respects Carol's and Daryl's character development – individually and together. They started out way behind everybody else in life, convinced they weren't worthy of love. Daryl thought he was better off alone and Carol thought she was just a burden, but then they showed each other their true potential. Carol told Daryl he was a "man of honor" and Daryl taught Carol to have hope for a better future. They've struggled and suffered and strived to be good enough for each other. So, where's the payoff?

I understand not all fans want the same things, and maybe there's pressure to “keep everyone happy." Maybe it feels like a lose-lose situation. But from a marketing perspective, Caryl fans are a very reliable source of revenue for the show, so keeping them happy secures a reliable audience for future seasons of the show. They'll show up with their wallets out and their enthusiasm turned all the way up for Norman's and Melissa's nuanced performances. They'll create more fanart and other content. They'll make the show trend on Twitter constantly. Fans already adore Norman and Melissa, but explicit canon will amplify it further whereas keeping things ambiguous will cause a significant decline in viewership.

Ambiguity is the reason that the "I love you" scene in the flagship's finale got mixed reactions. For the fans who also struggle with their self-image, it was important to see Daryl and Carol overcome their own insecurities and finally "take whatever happiness they could get." But instead, many saw Carol's lighthearted "I love you too" and Daryl's departure as if they were both forfeiting what they always wanted. Daryl was submitting to his solitary nature again while Carol assumed she still owed a debt to her community and Daryl would be happier without her anyway. Both of them deserved a happy ending, or at least a piece of happiness to launch them into the next part of their journey. As far as many fans were concerned, neither of them got that.

That's why a lot of fans had a hard time watching S1 of the spinoff or opted out of watching all together. There were so many moments that teased the "possibility" of Daryl getting together with a younger, blonder woman nun while hints of Caryl's relationship were buried under more subtext. Keeping Daryl's feelings ambiguous just for the "fun" of shipbaiting cheapens Caryl's one-of-a-kind relationship, falsely indicating that their iconic beats can be recycled with someone else and still evoke the same passionate response from fans.

Ambiguity also perpetuates ageism and gives non-Caryl fans the excuse to say hurtful things to or about Melissa. Whether or not she's online to see it makes no difference because it still degrades her and it damages other women's perceptions of beauty and worth. Explicit canon on the other hand raises both Melissa and Norman up as two powerhouse actors utilizing their unparalleled chemistry to celebrate mature romances. It brings Daryl’s defining character traits to the forefront – the nurturing traits and the epic ones. It positions Daryl and Carol as equals, and it helps drown out the harmful comments against Melissa. 

Hopes for season 2 of the spinoff are high. Confirmation of Carol's and Daryl's romantic relationship in a way that needs no interpretation and no explanation from anyone offscreen is a dealbreaker. I know in terms of explicit canon, post-production can make all the difference, so it's crucial someone in a position of power pushes for canon that fully and unapologetically lives up to the fans' expectations, does right by the characters, and respects what Melissa wants.

#caryl #carol peletier #daryl dixon #norman reedus #melissa mcbride #carol x daryl #the book of carol #twd caryl

[reblogs-and-writings]

Inspired by @chaifootsteps

Everyone's sending in their Hazbin character rewrites, and that looked fun so I want to toss my own hat into the ring. Sorry for the long post. What really bothers me most about Hazin Hotel is that it claims to be a show about redemption, but it seems to be a show about lack of consequence. The reasons why the characters are in hell are never really explained. There are things you can infer about certain people: Alastor's murder, Husk's gambling, Angel's drug use, etc. However, the show never explains why those behaviors are wrong and how they can improve. More often than not, those behaviors are used as jokes. It's funny to have a cannibal town. Angel Dust's name is a pun on the drug that killed him. It's just tonally very wierd to purport that anyone can be redeemed, ANYONE, even people in HELL, can be redeemed and then not continue that very messy and difficult ethical conversation.

Nifty is boy-crazy. Taken to its extreme, what can that mean? What causes attraction so vile it sends you to hell? Was she was one of those "Boy Moms" who excuses his son's horrid actions at the expense of women's safety? Did she cover up a rape her child committed, because Mother's special little boy couldn't possible do something so vile! Or maybe she didn't love her children enough. Maybe her obsession with "bad boys" comes from being forced into an extremely suffocating and unhappy marriage. Maybe she ran off with some 50s biker. Maybe she abandoned her children because she was too obsessed with being loved herself that she couldn't love her children if it meant not having a man's attention. Maybe her boy craziness evolved into a raving jealousy if she didn't get her feelings reciprocated. She's a maid, right? She wants things clean and tidy. Did she murder a man? Did she spend hours scrubbing the floor so none of his blood would remain? Then maybe her arc could be about loving herself and not needing a man to define her identity. Maybe it could be unpacking internalized misogyny and coming to terms with the real pain she caused other women.

Mimzy is opportunistic. She only comes around when she needs a favor. She has no loyalty and only uses Alastor to get her out of problems. Why is she like that? Who taught her that relationships were transactional instead of committal? Maybe she was once a naive young girl who got 'used' for something, and it soured her opinion on other people. I mean, she's plus-sized during the FLAPPER era, where thin was like 1990s level of in. But there's a lot of plus-sized women who talk about being some guy's sneaky link, because he wants to prey on her insecurity and get her into bed, but then never be seen with her, because she's not a socially acceptable dating option. Did Mimzy get her heart broken, and now she doesn't trust anyone? Now she just uses people for what they're good for, because hurt people hurt people, and she's continuing a cycle she herself was a victim to? Maybe Mimzy's redemption could be about letting people in, about not letting trauma turn her into a bad person.

Husk is an alcoholic and a gambling addict. Most people don't just pick up those hobbies for the fun of it. Husk is a miserable little man, and he was probably driven to drink because of his own unhappiness. He was pansexual in the 1970s, right? Maybe he couldn't accept himself or he was forced to not accept himself. Maybe he was forced into a loveless marriage, and he started to go out to the casino to get away from the wife and family he never wanted. But more and more and more he spends time over there, because he doesn't want to go home. And soon he becomes dependent on booze and gambling because it gives him a little joy in his miserable life. But addiction doesn't hurt just the addicted person. It hurts everyone around him. He starts skipping work to gamble. He loses his job. He steals money from his wife. He bets the car. Then the house. He leaves his family destitute, and he's convinced he's the victim because he never wanted to be a husband and father in the first place. When he dies of alcohol poisoning, his family doesn't even claim his body. His redemption could be about how when your own life sucks, it's not an excuse to hurt others. You have to find better ways to cope with a bad hand.

Angel Dust is too many things. He's a prostitute and a porn star and a gay man in the 30s and a gangster and a drug-addict. But if we were gonna try and make all of that make sense, Angel Dust is very family-oriented. He grew up in a mob family. Loyalty is EVERYTHING. So in his mind, killing people was a lesser sin than "betraying" his family by not getting rid of their enemies. His family is everything to him. So he can't be gay. He can't. He can't. He's SO repressed. He refuses to acknowledge it. He spends his entire, short life, trying to fit the mold of a perfect, loyal son. But… he did kill a LOT of people… So when he dies in some shoot out, he goes to hell, and he snaps. He did EVERYTHING he thought was right. He did everything his family told him to do. He was the perfect son, and when he dies he gets sent to hell. He immediately loses all inhibition. He's still a sex/drug addict, but only after he winds up in hell. He's going to spend eternity giving into every single base desire he denied himself while alive. It's destroying him. He's selling himself to men, but deep down he's still ashamed and wondering what his family would think. He drowns out those thoughts with more sex and drugs. Angel's redemption arc is about balance. Yes, he should have been able to be true to himself while alive, but complete indulgence is just as hurtful to him as complete denial.

Sir Pentious… why is he even in hell? I mean, he's a little annoying, and in the pilot he was involved in a gang war, but what did he do in life to justify being sent to hell? Well, he was a Victorian Englishman, so I'm gonna say racism! Horrible racism and colonialsim. He was raised in a time where those were the dominant thought patterns, and he did not analyze them one bit. Conflict can come when black-coded characters like Alastor and Husk expect to be treated like human beings. And Charlie has to face the difficulty of believing a person can change, but how to deal with the current harm they're causing the people she cares about. Maybe Sir Pentious isn't a recorring cast member. Maybe he came to the hotel because he thinks he should be in Heaven. He brought glory to the British empire. He was a kind gentleman. He donated to charities. But he leaves the hotel because he doesn't think "those people" are good enough for Heaven. He refuses to acknowledge his behavior as needing to be changed, but Charlie tells him there is a spot at the hotel when he's ready to change. His character is about how you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. He can be offered all the chances in the world to be better, but until he can come to terms with his own capacity for evil, he can't be redeemed.

Cherry Bomb doesn't exist, because she's a superfluous character that doesn't fit in my rewrite. Sir Pentious doesn't get a love interest, and Angel Dust's friend is now Vaggie.

No fallen angel crud. Vaggie was a prostitute that got murdered like Viv originally planned for her to be like 10 years ago. I think Vaggie shows some really codependent traits in the show. Charlie seems to be her entire world. She sings about being her armor. She's willing to put herself in harm's way to defend her, even die for her. She doesn't seem to care much about the other patron's of the hotel apart from them being facet's of Charlie's dream. Maybe Vaggie was one of those poor women who gets trafficked by their boyfriend (or maybe girlfriend in her case). A single person becomes her whole entire world, and she's willing to do ANYTHING for them. Even put herself in dangerous situations that lead to her death… But she did it for love! <3 She hurts herself for love.. for approval. And maybe the show can get into a conversation about what sin really is. So many people define sin as harmed caused to others, but what about harm caused to yourself? Viv originally stated that Vaggie's feelings for Charlie were one-sided, and I think that detail would be even more poignant in this interpretation of her character. She's trying so hard to be noticed and to be loved, and Charlie's become a goddess in her eyes. She puts her on such a pedastal she has no room for her own worth. Her arc is maybe a bit too similiar to Nifty's depending on how we choose to interpret her character, but it's also about finding identity outside of others and being able to set boundaries. Because loving someone and wanting to help them and wanting to protect them are not bad impulses, but like anything else, when taken to extremes it becomes something bad. Dependency can twist love into obession.

Lucifer is the Devil! He's evil! No sad-man, Dad-trying-his-best nonsense! He's evil! The big twist of Hazbin Hotel is that they're not in Hell! They're in Purgatory. There are no sins that cannot be forgiven, but sin can also not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Purgatory is a place where your sins are burned away so that eventually you can join God in heaven. In Purgatorio, Dante depicts Purgatory as a place of effort. People are in constantly motion striving to get closer to heaven. Purgatory in Hazbin could be a place where people get a second chance to work on their vices. If they couldn't be a good person in life, then they have all of eternity to try again. But Lucifer, the prince of LIES, has convinced everyone they're in Hell. There is no redemption. There is no getting better. He causes the sinners to fall into a great despair. Why try getting better if there is no hope? So when people learn they're in hell, they dig in their heels. They lean even further into vice. They cannot experience love or laughter or joy again. So they settle for booze and sex and violence, anything to numb the pain of knowing they're trapped forever. But is a hell of their own making, little do they know. By tricking generations of sinners, not a single soul has redeemed itself and gotten to heaven in centuries. That's why no one believes it's possible. That's why when Charlie suggests it, he's furiously disapproving of her. He doesn't want people to get better. He doesn't want to improve. He wants everyone to be as miserable as he is, because misery loves company. But he can't tip his hat too much or the older souls might get suspicious. He is the Prince of Lies. His power comes not from strength but from manipulation. The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. In Hazin, the greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing people there's no hope for themselves. I was once told that Judas's great sin was not betraying Jesus, but his own suicide after falling into despair. How glorious it would have been to go to a church named after Judas the Repentent. But alas, it is not so. The greatest sin you can commit against yourself is thinking you're too far gone.

And that's why I think Alastor is the central sinner to the narrative. Because he shares Lucifer's viewpoint. People can't get better. Nothing ever gets better. People are bad or people are good, and you can't be both. And who could blame him for having that idea? Let's just pretend that Alastor's lack of visual black-coding is because he is a VERY white-passing creole man. And because of that, he was treated so differently than his mother. And he was treated differently when people found out about his heritage. He became a big radio host. He was popular. He was famous. But he wasn't seen as an equal human being. He was a performer to be enjoyed, but never a person to be respected. He was "one of the good ones" at BEST. And he believed in the good of people. His mother was such a kind soul. She instilled in him that everyone has good inside of them. So he waited to see it. He waited and he waited, and he only saw increasing racism and violence towards his people. One day he just snaps and kills someone, and he considers it a justice. People like that are never going to change. The world is better without them. So he just keeps murdering racists until he gets shot in the head. And when he finds himself in hell, he believes even LESS in the good of people or God or heaven or whatever. If killing racists sent him to hell, then God is evil, and the idea of objective morality in and of itself is perposterous. Positioning Alastor as a vigilante killer would also make some of his comic depictions make more sense. Like he's a really nice guy to Rosie and other women, but he's also a violent murderous man. It's because he thinks people are good or bad, and if you're bad it justifies whatever he does to you. The cannibalism might also be like a power thing. Alastor's arc is about believing in Charlie's mission, genuinely. Eventually, it's not about watching people stumble and fall, because there's a cosmic humor to the cruelty of the universe. He starts to genuinely see people improve, but he fights against the idea, because his life was defined by static, perpetual, instituional evil. Maybe a soul gets redeemed before his very eyes, and he still doesn't believe it. Because to admit a human's capacity for moral growth is to completely restructure his entire understanding of the world, and that's scary.

Finally, Charlie. Princess of Hell. I've always been rather fond of Tolkien's sentiment that evil cannot create, only corrupt. So I don't think Lucifer is her real father. I think Charlie was like… a baby angel. And when Lucifer was leading his rebellion he stole children and forced them to fall to hell with him. It was just another way to bring misery, forcing the innocent to share the burden of his punishment. I think he got a sick pleasure from raising her. He "loved" her, or at least she thought he did. He was very, very good as playing Father. Prince of Lies and all that. He gets a chuckle knowing she's so happy here rotting in hell and has no idea what she's missing from her true destiny in Heaven. But that goodness inside of her can't be extinguished. She's an angel. She has a natural instinct to help human souls and fight evil. But because she was raised in Hell, she doesn't understand the complexities of sin that the elder angels would have informed her about. She's naive, and she certainly has to learn how to help guide people towards a brighter path, but she doesn't change her stance. So many times characters who believe in the good of people end stories with some pessimistic maturity where they realize that some people can't be helped. But Charlie doesn't change. Charlie stands firm at the end of the series believing that EVERYONE can be redeemed. It won't be easy, and you could argue it's not even fair, but she believes it. Lucifer chastises her, saying it'll take an eternity to change a sinner's mind, but she just smiles. Because an eternity is what she has, and she'll spend it helping people.

Also Chalastor is canon.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazin hotel rewrite #adam and lute don't exist because heaven is actually good in this rewrite #also the vees might exist but definitely not in the form they do now #the extermination is done by lucifer and the other demons #they get their kicks watching sinners scream and run and beg for their afterlives #it also causes a false sense of scarcity which makes them act even worse to each other