#ANYWAYS. Hob just doesn't even care if he has a chance. He WILL get a date. Even if it takes a hundred (metaphorically) years.

[magnusbae]

I see a lot of modern au with Hob being experienced in dating and self assured but “I’ve got no chance with him but I’ll still take my shot and try” attitude. Now it’s all good and fun but— please do consider the following: Dream being “You’ve got no chance with me” and Hob being “Oh I’m getting you darlin’” attitudes. Is Dream a few leagues above him? Maybe. Does he stand a chance? Who cares. People who think about chances are the people who don’t actually get shit. Hob decided that he will get Dream on at least a date and oh he will do that. And if he gets more? And boy, he is planning on it, what’s the better! 

[gabessquishytum]

more Immortal Throuple omegaverse <3

Hob, during this stage of his immortal life, has become a thief. He's infamous for stealing paintings and jewelry from royalty and nobility. And if he thinks you deserve it (unfair taxes, abuse of power, etc), he will absolutely destroy you.

The people love him for it. Nobles, not so much. They want him dead. Except nobody actually knows what he looks like, save a few servants here and there who have seen him- and why would they ever say anything?

Unfortunately for Hob, all of this makes him a bit cocky. So when he decides to break into the castle of King Dream and Queen Calliope, he doesn't really question why there aren't any guards or servants around that night. The King and Queen can protect themselves, after all, but why no servants?

Part of Hob's brain is screaming at him about how wrong it all feels, but he keeps going. There's a particular painting he's after, and a lovely ruby necklace he'd love to get his hands on.

And then there's a crash from the second floor.

Hob tries to stick to the shadows when he hears running but the shadows keep moving, almost like they're alive, and then suddenly he can smell Alpha and now there's two of at the top of the stairs, looking at him with wild eyes.

Hob knows better than to run from an Alpha in a rut, let alone two of them, but, well. Instinct is instinct and he'll be damned if this is how he gets caught.

He does. He does get caught. After a merry chase through the castle (he tried to lead them outside, at one point, hoping to steal a horse, but none of the damn doors would open), feeling like prey (he very much was), Hob gets caught.

It's easy to forget it's his own fault when there's two cocks fucking into him at once- one in his cunt, the other in his ass, almost always knotting him at the same time (he's never done this before, it's so good so good so good); two mating bites on either side of his neck; and two Alphas telling him how good he is, how they're going to put a pup into him and keep trying until they do.

(Three days later, Dream and Calliope snap out of their ruts to find a strange naked man in bed with them, covered in cum, two mating bites, wearing Dream's ruby necklace, and... smelling of pup and contentment.

Well then.)

Ashsjdjdhah this is absolutely amazing. And then you managed to top it by sending even MORE fodder for my horny mind!!

I particularly like this idea of Hob getting totally blindsided by two alphas in rut. He'd be weaker than them at the best of times, but in rut? He stands no chance. Worst of all Dream and Calliope work together to subdue him. He's pinned down, has the back of his neck bitten, and before he knows it he's being double knotted. He barely even feels the pain because his body is changing and that's the overwhelming sensation. Slick is pouring from his hole, hormones are pumping through his body, and by the time he passes out his knows that it's already happened. They've made him into an omega.

He should probably be more mad about it, but when he wakes up to two apologetic, whimpering alphas, who lick his wounds and submit themselves to his wrath... he finds himself unable to be angry. Life as a lone alpha kind of sucked, and now he feels this peace and contentment in his body. Plus he ended up getting Dream’s ruby anyway... and he can definitely exploit these two rich, sweet scented alphas into taking proper care of him...

They'll have to wait until his first proper heat to get him pregnant, but Hob’s going to make damned sure that they do. He wants pups, as many as they can give him. He's always been greedy and cocky and just because he's an omega now, that isn't going to change.

Oh, and Dream and Calliope are in love. Their omega has utterly bewitched them, and they can't wait to spoil him absolutely rotten.

[pigeonwhumps]

Nightmare

A Death in the Family masterlist

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump @whumpsday

@oddsconvert @starfields08000 @whump-tr0pes @anonfromcanada @augusnippets

Augusnippets day 26: nightmare | warm blanket | snuggling

Just after moving in with Tristam, Eldrida has a nightmare.

785 words

CWs: vampire whump, mentioned caning, expectation of punishment, past starvation, slight unreality/confusion, past death, past slavery

Eldrida sits bolt upright, unbeating heart hammering in her chest. For a few minutes she doesn't know where she is. She's sure she heard her master call for her, but she doesn't remember what he wants.

That's bad.

She starts to get up and tumbles onto the floor. She's higher up than she was expecting. Why–

Oh. Oh, right.

Her master's dead. This is his son's apartment. His son, Tristam Sharpe, who's been kind enough to give her a proper bed and warmth and a chance to see the world again.

She pulls the blanket off the bed and around her shoulders, shuffling out into the hallway. She can't stay in here. Maybe her master didn't call her, but there's still a Lord Sharpe here, and he might still want her. Every time she remembers his persuasion-filled voice, deep and foreboding like his father's, shivers run down her spine. She doesn't want to end up on his bad side, certainly not so soon. And she can see a warm glow under the door up ahead.

She'll just find out what he wants. He's kind, he won't mind the blanket, right? She can always remove it when he wants to finish caning her.

She crumples the fabric in her fists, pulling it tighter around her. He won't take it away entirely, right?

She pushes the door open. Tristam is crouched on the floor in front of the half-built box bed, but turns to her when she enters, eyebrows knitted in frustration.

"Eldrida? Are you all right?"

Eldrida swallows. This is it.

"You called for me, sir?"

Tristam frowns further. "No. No, I thought you were having a nap still. The shops are not open yet, and I can build this myself."

"But... you were caning me. Aren't you going to finish, sir?"

As she says it, she realises her back aches, it's not on fire like a fresh caning would make it.

"No. I did not even start. I think you had a nightmare. Where were we, when I was supposedly caning you?"

"In your... office..."

He doesn't have an office.

"Mm. Definitely not me then. I would not, we discussed it. You can go back to sleep."

Eldrida shakes her head. She can't. This isn't the first time she's had a nightmare about Lord Sharpe and she's never been able to sleep after them.

It's the first time the scenario's been unfeasible though.

"Can I help you, sir? Tristam?"

"No, it's all right. I should take a break anyway. I can make us both a drink of hot blood. Do you have a preference in blood type?"

"No, Tristam." She didn't realise hot blood was a thing. She only knows blood type preference is because Lord Sharpe and his guests would discuss it. Her meals since she was turned were the cheapest he could get his hands on, as infrequently as he could get away with. No use in a servant who couldn't serve, but he didn't want to feed a hunter and certainly wasn't going to pay her.

She was always grateful anyway though, however it tasted. It was still food. And better quality didn't always mean better – just look at Sunday's food.

"I will use O+ then. Sit down."

Eldrida obeys, curling up on the sofa under her big, luxurious blanket and watching Tristam pour a pack of blood into a saucepan, heating it over the hob. It smells delicious, especially with the herbs added. Better than Sunday ever has, or any of the blood farm humans did that one time. He pours it into two mugs and brings them over, sinking down onto the other sofa, at right angles to her.

"Careful, it is very hot."

She nods and sips at the drink. Oh, it's heavenly, and the only thing stopping her from gulping it down is the temperature. And the fact that she's still unsure when, if, she'll receive any more blood at all.

"Good?" She nods. "It is Lucan's recipe. Apparently this is the most herbs you can add without the blood becoming inedible. But they help."

"Thank you." She sips it again. She's exhausted. She feels like someone's drained her, even though they wouldn't. But even though she should be safe here, she has a proper bed and everything, it doesn't feel like it.

It's weird. She hates Lord Barnabas Sharpe, but his sudden absence has left a gaping hole in her life. Who is she, now? She's never been a vampire without him.

"Are you all right, Eldrida?"

She shrugs. Yes. She should say yes, unless she wants her nightmares coming true by a different hand, but she– she has no idea.

She hopes they don't come true.