#bigbang angst

[robthegoodfellow]

A Little Death Do Us Part

VANISHED from fandom to work on this thing. as usual it ballooned 🙃 warnings: necromancy, character death (hence the necromancy), dubcon (on account of the necromancy)

My entry for @bigbangharringrove with art I adore by LucaDoodleDoo who also served as cheerleader when I fell behind and suffered from near fatal narrative maximalism. Here's the first chapter, or read on AO3 💛 (3 chapters up, rest day by day)

Billy had been dead for four days when Steve finally made a breakthrough, muffled cracks as bones restitched and the crushed chest cavity filled, the rasp of rusted lungs expanding with breath. He waited, held his own breath like that would encourage another from the sorry test subject lying inert on the table.

The chest deflated, but only a little—his heart leapt as it rose again, an easier inhale, and Steve would have sobbed, except he had no air, could only manage an anguished choke. It wasn’t anguished, though, just pure exhausted relief, hope, after three nights without sleep, using every trick in the book to keep going, keep trying, not give up.

An ear twitched, then—the tail, the tip curling absent-mindedly.

Within minutes, Mews sat on his haunches, staring at Steve fixedly, even more fixedly than normal, before he’d been hit by that truck, but other than that, he seemed—fine? Fine! Even the sickly-sweet eau de rot was dissipating, ginger fur shedding the greasy dullness of decay.

So it took every ounce of self-control not to go haring off to the basement crypt and work his magic there, on the true intended recipient of his tireless trial and error.

Gods in hell, so many errors. And such a trial. One attempt had backfired so spectacularly that Mews had almost decomposed too far for restoration, crumbling before his eyes as Steve scrambled for the counter spell. Another had awoken the cat but hadn’t healed him, and also imbued him with a ravenous hunger for human flesh. The scratches that crosshatched Steve’s every limb had only just begun to scab under the bandages. He’d had to go for the bat that time, beating at the mangy monster like he was trying to win whack-a-mole at the fair, then gulped down every leftover antidote to zombie infection in the medicine cabinet he could find.

He'd been steadily working his way through the moldy copy of Untethered Netherworld: New Necromancies—several editions out of date, banned in every state but New Jersey—and he was running out of both spells and time. Reanimation for more nefarious purposes—raising undead armies and whatnot—had more wiggle room, but true revivification had to be performed within a week of the victim’s death, and the sooner the better.

He didn’t want a shell of Billy, something better off dead. He wanted Billy. Needed him back.

For that, he had to be patient, thorough; do this right. Follow the checklist. Consulting the items hastily scribbled on the back of a takeout menu, he frowned.

Responds when called.

Well, fuck. Did cats ever respond when called? Mews certainly hadn’t—and Steve still wasn’t sure whether that was due to aloof mulishness or because he maintained some preferred moniker that they weren’t privy to.

Nothing for it but to try, though.

“Mews?”

The cat blinked, swished his tail.

Good enough, Steve figured, checking it off. 

2. Reacts expectedly to stimuli.

Didn’t exactly have a toy mouse handy, but after rooting around in the junk drawer, he dug up one of those keychain laser pointers. Aimed it at the floor in front of the table, and… skittered it around.

Mews launched from his perch, paws extended—pounced on the zigzagging red and kept pouncing.

Another check. 

3. Craves appropriate sustenance.

What did cats even eat, aside from… cat food, which he’d neglected to restock. Tuna? Saucer of milk? Cartoons all seemed to think so.

“Stay here,” he said, though Mews had never been the kind of cat that talked. Locking the workroom behind him, he set off for the kitchen. Pantry had to have at least one can of Chicken of the Sea. 

.💀.

The thing was—Steve should’ve known Billy was possessed. Should’ve been able to tell right away. He’d slept next to that… thing at least two nights and hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed?

He’d kissed him and really been kissing it—wrote off the delayed response, a pause before the returning press, as simple distraction. Held him but really held it, and attributed the strange stiffness to stress, stroked the broad back until he slept—or seemed to.

Because while Steve slept, Billy had been a marionette wreaking havoc, his hijacker attacking at random, opportunistic, installing its brethren on behalf of its master.

On the third morning, the day before he died, when Steve had been watching coffee drip into the pot, the shatter of ceramic spun him round, disoriented. And Billy, eyes streaming, so blue, burning blue—he’d shoved his waiting mug off the center island, was gripping the counter, teeth gritted with effort.

“Go,” he’d grunted between clenched jaws. “Go.” His hand gripped the other mug—Steve’s—and his voice sharpened, urgent. “Run.”

Steve barely dodged it, the mug cracking into the cabinet by his head with far more force than humanly possible, and his childhood training had kicked in. For once, it paid to have been born to parents whose vigilance bordered on paranoid, always on guard against rival families, enemy estates.

He grabbed a kitchen knife, threw every chair in its way, and bolted for the door, slashing behind him as he fumbled with the locks. And ran. Because he trusted Billy with his life, implicitly, knew when a command was the kind performed without question—the tone, the bluntness, the context. It was how they’d survived as an unaffiliated pair, all these years.

But that also meant precious few allies to turn to in times of need. Billy’s sister wasn’t his first choice, but she lived closest, and fleeing on foot put proximity at a premium. To her credit, she’d tried—Steve didn’t fault her for her role in the outcome—Max had just placed her trust in the wrong people. In people that prioritized killing the thing in Billy, rather than saving Billy himself.

Of course, it didn’t help that Billy had been of the same mind.

Now that he’d found a means to bring him back, Steve could admit another reason he hadn’t closed his eyes longer than a blink since the moment Billy went slack: to avoid the endless replay projected behind his lids—of Billy standing between the girl and the monster, a conglomerate creature of melded prey, raw matter drained of humanity, remade into an ever-growing puppet of destruction.

He'd wrested control once more, like he had in the kitchen, long enough to speak the words to unmake the abomination—words he alone could know, unbeknownst to the puppeteer, as the son of a witch infamous for having contracted with a god of death so powerful none could speak its name and live. None could hear its name and live. And none knew it, save two, for a while. And then one. 

And then none.

Billy spoke it. Steve saw his lips shape unfamiliar words. For the sake of the girl. 

.💀.

A checkmark next to every item on the list—that’s what broke him, finally. Not the most dignified position, kneeling over a litterbox, scooping sandy nuggets into a trash bin while fighting tears of joy, suppressing hysterical, ecstatic laughter, but—Mews was a cat, just a normal cat again, to all appearances, which meant—

He could have Billy back. Had proven wrong every tutor who’d dismissed Steve’s lackluster abilities as beyond the help of instruction. Sufficiently motivated, he’d managed every spell he tried—so it wasn’t his fault he didn’t fully know what each spell would do. This was on his teachers for slouching on the job, handwaving him through his studies to collect a paycheck.

Closing the lid of the bin, Steve stood to wash his hands and swayed, so light-headed he would have toppled were it not for a steadying arm flung to the wall. He breathed slow, eyes closed—opened, and the room had stilled its spinning.

Even so—he needed sleep. If he attempted the most important magics of his life and fucked it up from fatigue, he’d endure the rest of his days tormented by curdling regret.

“Bed, Mews,” he called, out of habit.

They’d held out a week, after Dustin had entrusted them with Mews’ care while he was apprenticing with the bigwigs at Know Where Corporation for the summer. Mewsy prefers sleeping with a buddy, Dustin instructed, among a litany of other highly specific edicts. Well, I prefer fucking my husband without witnesses, Steve had replied, just to see him pull a face, and Billy had chirped, faux-innocent, Unless the price is right. Or unless plied with endless mournful meows and wide, shining, plaintive eyes, apparently, because in no time they had a mound of fur curled at their feet from dusk till dawn.

Despite his exhaustion, despite the comforting warmth of Mews that bled through the covers, despite the meditation exercise to clear his mind, Steve couldn’t drift off for hours, couldn’t stop the steady leak of tears that oozed from the corner of closed lids to his unwashed hair.

Because Billy’s side of the bed was an echoing void at his side, an emptiness cold and loud as an arctic gale. Now and then he nudged Mews with a foot just to hear him snuffle, like an anxious mother checking her silent newborn still breathed. 

Think of a wonderful thought, he heard—Billy’s voice, hushed and fond. And like he always did, Steve huffed, “Okay, Peter,” and finally sank into memories that didn’t stab at him the way they had for days.

Tomorrow, he reminded himself, and relaxed. By this time tomorrow, Billy would be whole and hale and back in his arms. He’d kiss him and hold him. Tell him he loved him.

Tomorrow.

Chapter 2

[discodeviant]

Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide and Ideation, Unhappy Ending Category & Ships: M/M | Harringrove Summary: Billy, throughout his life, has experienced pain so great that he thinks it’s all there is, suffering at the hands of an authoritarian father and the inner workings of his own bleakened subconscious. It's a long, slow walk to the gallows when Hawkins, Indiana becomes his new home—until Steve comes along and opens his eyes to a kind of love that lasts forever and far beyond.

Read Highway Star: Act I on AO3 (requires login)

IT'S HERE!!!!!!

And I'm so honored to have been paired with @cuepickle who created some lovely art to go with the fic (and more to come 👀), so please please please go check it out and give her all the love 💙💙💙

As seen above, this fic contains lots of heavy subject matter, so please proceed with caution if you're sensitive to anything in the tags.

Thank you to @bigbangharringrove for hosting the event and finally pushing me to write Highway Star!

[hayaku14]

anyway kaishin + bad parent toichi and chikage enjoyers go read cuethesun's tomorrow, and the next day ✌️😎✌️

[beamsmom]

Working on a bokuaka bb 💪🏼💪🏼 it'll be out next year I guess but yeah I've brainstorm into outlining a really angst/comfort fic. I'll post the link here as well (it has one nsfw chapter bc it'll be more impactful in that situation and I don't read much smut let alone write it so it's gonna be a minor problem but in the end ik I'm gonna have so much fun writing it and hopefully everything will workout) see you soon <3

[moorishflower]

Us and the Moon (Dream/Hob, werewolf AU, COMPLETE)

Us and the Moon || Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || Chapters 4 of 7 || Explicit

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Werewolves, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has PTSD, POV Hob Gadling, Story within a Story, Child Death, Minor Eleanor | Hob Gadling's Wife/Hob Gadling, PiningCanon-Typical Angst, Happy Ending, Historical References, Canon Retelling, Drowning, References to the Slave Trade, Confessions, Traumatized Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Scent Kink, Anal Fingering

Somehow, it always feels like Hob is meeting his oldest friend around the night of the full moon. It's been six centuries since Hob got the bite that turned him into a werewolf, and in all that time he's somehow managed to dance around telling Dream the truth. Tonight, though, he's determined to have out with it. The whole story, finally laid on the table…minus, of course, the part where he's been in love with Dream since at least the 1400s. No, that part can stay safely locked up for the rest of eternity as far as he's concerned. He's only just gotten Dream back into his life, and he doesn't dare ruin it any more than he already did in 1889. The werewolf thing, though, that's easy.

Read it on AO3 here! Currently chapters 1 and 2 are up

Thanks to the mods at @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang for all their hard work, my awesome artist @wolfgirl-valentine, and @dsudis for the beta! Please go check out the art by Wolffie, it's AMAZING and beautiful and so much effort went into each piece <3

[lostelfwriting]

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye

[irlbokuto]

Saltwater Prayer  |  Explicit |  54.4k

My project for the 2023 Steddie BigBang! @steddiebang

Author: Asgardian_Pirate (AO3) / ghostlypallor (Twitter) / @fenfics (Tumblr) Artist: @werew0rm (Twitter) / @werew0rm (Tumblr) Artist: glitterfangart (Twitter) / @glitterfang (Tumblr)

Fragile things need a tender hand. In the height of a Georgia summer, Steve visits a small town painted with memories of Eddie’s childhood. Wayne welcomes Steve into an unfamiliar pace of family life—with good food, good company, and a boundless wisdom. The slow crawl of the heat helps to open his heart and the river is there to catch what spills out.  But the water doesn’t promise gentleness as much as it promises change. Desires simmering beneath the surface push at the seams of his glued-together pieces. As he learns the shape of Eddie’s mosaic, Steve slowly unravels the tapestry of his own golden soul.

Fic | Art | Art | Playlist

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington; Eddie Munson; Wayne Munson; Original Characters; Minor Characters Tags: AU — Canon Divergent; Post-S4; POV Steve Harrington; Slow Burn; Friends to Lovers; Drama; Angst; Trauma; Suicidal Ideation; Internalized Ableism; Domestic; Nostalgia; Eventual Smut; Wayne Munson Lore; Munson Family Lore; A Touch of Southern Gothic; Non-Traditional Spirituality; Happy Ending

[ripdragonbeans]

Look At Me /modern!Aegon x Reader

My fic for the HOTD Big Bang! You can follow all the fics @hotd-bigbang

Lovely mood board, banner, and dividers by the beautiful @ewanmitchellcrumbs and my beautiful betaa were @asa-do-your-thing and @khaleesihel

WARNINGS: angst, smut, p in v, she/her pronouns, voyeurism???, oral (f and m receiving), physical violence (reader has some anger [not towards Aegon])

"God fucking dammit," you muttered as you reached out to open the unlocked door to your shared apartment with Aegon.

An unlocked door meant one thing: Aegon brought another girl back for a quick, thoughtless fuck. After countless years of suffering this, starting in your freshman year, one would think it would be easy to ignore without a thought. This night, however, was not the ideal night to handle Aegon’s shenanigans. Work had you tiresomely stretched out, often staying up all night to meet deadlines: an old habit you optimistically thought would cease after college. On top of that, lately it felt unbearing, that the universe seemed to have dismissed you, seizing every opportunity to strip you from an ounce of joy or serenity.

The small yet infuriating incidents from spilling coffee all over yourself or dropping a burger over your work attire, pens running out of ink at times you desperately needed them, your computer randomly restarting for an update, it was everything bundling and boiling up to breaking point… And it felt like tonight was that night.

Taking a deep breath, mentally trying to prepare yourself for the incessant and unfortunate familiar banging of the walls, alongside the mindless moans and grunts, you turned the handle and stepped into the room.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Worry pierced through your head. The door was unlocked so Aegon had to be here, right? You paced across the hall, keeping your steps as silent as possible when you arrived at Aegon's door. Pressing your ear against the door, hoping to idly eavesdrop into a conversation, yet all you could gather was silence from the other side.

"Aegon?" You enquired through the wooden shield of the door. "Aegon, are you in there?" Now ardently knocking on the door a little harder than you should. "Aegon, please! Please tell me -"

The door swung open to reveal a pissed off woman clad only in a matching set of lace underwear.

"Who the fuck is this, Aegon?" She looked you up and down with distaste

Aegon gave a little chuckle. "Don't worry, Sara, that's just my roommate."

You peered past her to see Aegon laying on his bed with only grey sweatpants on. He had a lazy smile on his face and gave you a knowing wink. Blush crept up your neck to your cheeks and you had hoped Aegon hadn’t caught a glimpse at your bashful state. Yet despite the mild distance between you two, you could see him scan your face. His smile grew when he noticed the pink shade across your cheeks. He rather enjoyed making you envious, basking in your natural reactions. All you needed was a little more pressure from him to admit the truth.

Or at least that's what he believed.

"You didn't tell me you had one," she glanced over you once again, "but I guess it's nothing to worry about."

"My roomie is no one, babe, I promise," he said as he gave her a flirtatious wink, a habit he seemed to share with the entire female campus.

"Hmmm…good." She slammed the door leaving you stunned and to some honest degree, honesty, irritated.

No one. He said you were no one, his harsh words echoing in your restless mind.

A tight sensation began to burden your chest, and hot tears threatened to fall, yet you shoved it all down, swallowing the large gulp painfully caught your throat, just like you always did. Consuming the raw heartbreak, you gather yourself and the mental walls, you hid yourself behind in defense, slowly making your return to the living room.

If you went to your room it was a given that you would hear everything that was a realistic and harsh possibility, yet you found your feet moving towards the familiar space. A few minutes passed until you heard a faint moan echoing from the direction of Aegon’s room and the light banging of the bed against the wall. Sighing in defeat, you place your noise canceling headphones on and searching up YouTube to mindlessly watch some video essay explaining this new ARG, Welcome Home. You found that submerging your senses to the very unnerving voice of Wally Darling was a great way to tune out the other background noises..

As much as you loved Aegon, you could never not be annoyed by this grotesque habit of his. Every other week was a new girl to fuck and mess about with, with no care nor implications in the world. None of them ever meant anything to him, you knew that much. No, you could tell. His lilac eyes never lit up when he saw them, his warm smile never reached his eyes, and he never talked about them willingly. The only times he would mention them was whenever he remembered to give you a heads up that he'd have one of them over for the night. You figured if he was inviting them over they'd be decent people, respectable enough to acknowledge your presence. You had hoped they'd be decent because Aegon deserved at least that. Whenever they'd show up you would do your best to be polite and welcoming in a weirdly humourous way, one time you’d even blurted to some poor victim of his hookup "hey you're here to suck my roommate", only to be disregarded and treated like utter shit. It was as though you didn't exist.

More so, you despised the way he acted when one of them came over, putting on some macho facade. Aegon would become old Aegon. The Aegon you initially met, the one who wore the mask of a guy who didn't give a fuck about anyone or anything. He was snarky and cocky, with the only priority of having the highest known body count. Yet you knew better, you saw through that careless exterior. After being paired together on assignment you two started hanging out. About a month or two after the project was assigned, he opened up. He played the part of the college frat fuckboy flawlessly, yet you could see right through that. You did your best to be someone he could trust; you knew there was more to him. Soon enough, your assignment partner became your best friend, your go to person, a person you'd do anything for. And that's how you ended up sharing an apartment with Aegon.

But there was something else.

There was a tug drawing you to him. Whenever you were away from Aegon there was a palpable ache in your heart. Whenever a sorority girl stayed the night your heart shattered, only to be slowly put together the next day by your very own hands. At the time you didn't want to admit it to yourself but eventually you had to.

It wasn't terrible at first. You lived a domestic life with your best friend with no worry in the world. Until he started bringing friends home. Just the occasional random girl moaning in his room once a month or so but now it was every other week. You hate to admit it but it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. You wished it was you in that room but you wouldn't tell him. It would ruin your friendship.

You loved Aegon, not just as a friend but as something more. The only problem was that you loved Aegon so much that you'd want him to be happy, even if it meant seeing him being with other girls. Yet you could never see yourself with someone else, only with him.

After watching every single reaction video to Welcome Home, Sara finally left Aegon's room wearing one of his shirts.

"See you next time, roomie," she said as she gave you a mocking smile before exiting the apartment.

You rolled your eyes as you started to pick up your laptop to move to your room when you heard him enter.

"Done with your fucking for the night?" You refused to look at him.

"Yeah," he leaned against the wall. "Unless you wanna be my round two."

"I'm not interested in sloppy seconds, Aeg. Next time just give me a heads-up, yeah? I don't like coming home to your moans."

"Oh, you know you love coming home to my moans," he teased. He loved riling you up like this.

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. Unlike me, who has to endure your headboard slamming against the wall," you bit out.

Aegon was taken aback by your sudden hostility and couldn’t fathom a response. Taking his silence as confirmation that he didn't care, you finished gathering your stuff and headed to your room. But as you passed Aegon, he abruptly stepped in front of you, halting you in your tracks.

"Hey, you're not seriously mad at me, are you?" His brows furrowed worriedly. "It's been a few months of this and now you're getting upset about it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I've been annoyed with this the whole time." You sighed and rubbed your tiresome eyes. "It wasn't too bad at first, I could ignore it fine but then it kept happening more and more often than favored. Each girl was more terrible to me than the last. And you never do shit about it, you never defend me. You seemed perfectly happy to let these one night stands walk all over your best friend, it seems." You glared at him, "You said I was nothing, Aegon.. I understand you put on this whole facade to get laid but that… that was cold, Aeg… Even for you. You're back to your old habits and it makes me want to run. Anyway," you took a deep breath, wanting this conversation to end, "I'm going to bed, I’m too tired for this right now… Night, Aegon."

He called your name and adamantly tried to follow you. You knew Aegon didn't like it when you were upset with him. You hoped he would try harder to get to you and say you were right and that he needs to look at himself again.

When you turned around to hear his side he shut down. Instead of saying anything he just blankingly stared at you. You could see his poor attempt to gather the courage to talk, yet no words fell from his soft lips. For the first time in weeks you two looked at each other, really looked at each other. The friendship between you has always been strong but you've been feeling it deteriorate, eating away slowly and slowly. You were hoping to see the bit of your best friend in those eyes, yet all you saw was regret.

When you turned to your door you found yourself saying more. "I'm tired, Aegon. I'm tired of this." You put your hand on the doorknob. "I miss you." You entered your room and locked yourself in before he could say anything.

You crawled into your bed and curled up, hugging your knees. Once again your chest tightened and tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. Only this time, you let them fall.

It's been weeks since Aegon invited someone to spend the night and it kind of pissed you off. You lost your cool one night and suddenly he just stops. It felt as though he was babying you, which was the part that was pissing you off. The other part of you felt relieved, hoping everything could go back the way it was before. You wanted goofy, vulnerable Aegon, not the one who was around a few weeks ago.

However, it didn't last. Just when you thought it was over, you came home to find Aegon's face buried between some random girl's legs. She still had her clothes on, as though Aegon couldn't wait to taste her. It was only her blouse unbuttoned and skirt that was bunched up and her legs spread that immediately clued you in to what was happening. Her head was thrown back, eyes were shut, and a silent scream left her body as Aegon brought her to the edge.

Anger bubbled inside you, threatening to pour over. The girl turned her head and smirked at you as though she knew you were there the entire time. She took her time slipping off the counter, fixing her hair into something slightly more put together. Once she painstakingly straightened herself up she fully turned to you and flashed the biggest smile.

"Oh, hey, roomie." It was Sara. "I didn't think I'd see you again. Aegon hasn't hit me up in a month so I thought he was fucking you." She laughed. "Sorry, I'm a little tle out of breath. He really knows what to do, not that you'd know anything about that, right?" She gave you a teasing wink.

All you could do was stare at her.

"I'm just joking, roomie. I know he'd never fuck you. Anyway, I figured I'd pay him a visit just be sure. Glad to see I was wrong."

She finished buttoning her top and smoothed down her skirt as Aegon got up. Sara quickly turned and pulled him into a mockingly deep kiss. You rolled your eyes when you spotted Aegon flexing his hands trying not to touch her. You walked in on him eating her out. His attempt to not touch her in front of you was an insult. You looked back at his face and saw his eyes glued on you while Sara tried to stick her tongue in his mouth. You've never seen him so uncomfortable with someone else like this. He looked almost apologetic yet he did nothing to move away from her. Sara finally pulled away, but not before grabbing one of Aegon's hands to run over her chest.

Sara turned back to you. "Same time next week? Maybe we'll try it in your bed, roomie. Gotta keep it exciting."

She gave you a demeaning wink before bending down to pick up her purse, obviously giving you a view of her ass. You looked over at Aegon, fuming, but only saw him trying, and failing, not to gawk at her backside. As though he felt your stare, his eyes shot to you and immediately looked ashamed. Sara was taking her sweet time getting up and gathering her things, steadily coaxing your anger with little comments here and there about how much she looks forward to next time, what they should try out, and what she wanted to do again. But it was her last comment that made you explode.

"You should move in with me, Aeg. You'll get sick of her sooner or later. You know I'm better for you anyway. She's no one worth remembering and obviously does nothing for -"

"Get. The. Fuck. Out," you growled.

Sara slowly turned to you and pursed her lips in mock sympathy. "Aw, is the little roomie jealous? Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find someone desperate enough to fuck you."

Red flooded your vision as everything became blurry. You didn't have control over your actions anymore. You launched yourself at Sara with your hands curved into claws. She had no time to move before you tackled her down and dragged your nails across her face. As she screamed you pulled her hair to force her to look you in the eye.

There weren't any deep scratches on her but you drew blood. Sick pride washed over you when you looked at her. A mix of eyeliner, tears, and the slightest tint of blood splotted across her face.

"You can dismiss my existence and waltz around like you own the place but let me make something clear," you whispered. "You will never call me desperate, you will never call me being worthless, and you will never force me out of my home. This is my place, not yours. It never was and it never will be."

You took a deep breath before pulling her back up. Sara was standing with your hand still gripping her hair.

You made sure your next words burned.

"You will never have a place in Aegon's heart. I know you think I believed your smug confidence and the terribly misplaced belief that you were his but you were wrong. Not for one second have I ever believed that Aegon would actually love you. You want me to be nothing to him but that will never happen. You can't sleep your way to Aegon, you only think you can. The truth is that you know nothing about him. But I do. I'm the one who has Aegon's heart, not you."

Sara whimpered when you tugged on her hair.

"Now," you breathed, "you're gonna get the fuck out of here and never come back. Do you understand?"

Sara broke her terrified stare from you to a pleading one to Aegon. "Aegon, you know I'm better for you. She's nothing compared to me. You said it yourself, she's nothing."

Aegon didn't try to comfort her. He looked straight at her without any trace of emotion.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Sara."

"Seriously?!"

"You were a mistake. Every girl was."

You lips pressed into a tight smile as you dragged Sara, still by her hair, to the door. "If I see you here again," you growled, "I will do more than simply scratch your face." You threw her out with your final words and slammed the door shut.

Tension engulfed the room. It was as though The red in your eyes slowly faded away until your head cleared up. All you could do was stand there. You didn't realize how fast your heart has been beating, how hard you've been breathing, until you came back to reality. What you just did felt like a dream. There was no thinking involved, only instinct and anger.

Aegon coughed, breaking the silence. "Hey, so, um," he scratched the back of his neck. "I guess -"

"Don't." You turned to face him. "I'm going to take a shower, grab some whiskey, and crash in my bed. Maybe we'll talk later. Or maybe we can just forget this happened," you let out a mirthless laugh, "and you can go back to fucking someone new every week."

"Wait, hold up, we need to -"

You held a hand up. "Stop, Aegon, please. I said a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Don't worry about me."

It's been two weeks since you kicked Sara out, which meant that it's been two weeks since you blew up in front of him. Everything you said was true, whether or not Aegon wanted to believe it. If he was too much of a coward to admit anything then so be it. But since then he's been almost non-existent. He was never in the apartment when you were and if he was he kept his door closed. As much as you wanted to check in on him you also wanted to hold your ground. What he did was stupid and hurt like hell.

After working an exhausting ten hour shift, you dragged yourself into the apartment. The lights were off but you could see a figure sitting on the couch and hear a dull thump from something hitting the table. You creeped closer to get a close look at them.

It was Aegon.

He was wallowing in his own self pity, drinking as much as he could. There were two empty bottles of beer on the table. A third half-empty bottle was in his hand. Wearing worn out black sweatpants and a ratty hoodie, Aegon took a swig before muttering some curses to himself. As you got closer to him you could smell the alcohol.

"What a fucking idiot," he laughed. Aegon took another swig of whatever bottle he had in his hand and promptly slammed it down.

You wanted to keep your mouth shut. You knew it would be better to walk away but it's been so long since you've talked that your resolve broke.

"You better not be talking about me," you said when you slipped into a spot next to him.

"Fucking hell," he flinched, spilling the contents of his drink. "Great, now it's on the fucking floor. Thanks." He threw a pillow on top of the mess figuring it would be better than nothing.

The two of you sat there in taut silence. Aegon didn't even reach for another drink. You were simply sitting in the quiet darkness together. You were about to break it when he spoke up first.

"I fucked up."

You let out a cold laugh. "Yeah, you really did."

He turned to look at you. Even in the dark you could see his eyes were a bit bloodshot. "I'm fucking trying, okay?" He rubbed his face. "No, you know what, forget it." Forgetting the bottle was empty, he picked it up to drink. He muttered a curse before setting it back down.

He got up to leave but you grabbed his hand before he could go any further. It was as though time was frozen. The second you took it everything became still. Aegon's hand was limp but you gave it a small squeeze encouraging him to stay.

"We need to talk about this. I know I've been avoiding it but you've been avoiding it, too. Hell, you've been avoiding me, Aeg."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before sitting back down.

"What do you want to talk about? How you went fucking ballistic? How you basically confessed your love for me?"

"Yes. All of that."

He nodded his head, asking you to go on.

"You changed so much, Aeg, and I didn't know what to do. When we first moved in you were my goofy best friend. You know, the one I tell everything to. Then one day it's like back at university before we met. You starting bringing in girl after girl to fuck and it just drove me up a wall. What the fuck happened?"

"What happened was my dad dying." He picked up an unopened bottle of beer and took a swig.

Your eyes widened at the confession. "Your dad died so you thought fucking someone new would help?"

"No - I mean yes, but it was more than that."

"It was more than that? I know you didn't give a shit about any of them."

He yanked his hand away. "Maybe not, but they have a shit about me!" He exploded.

"Excuse me?" You dangerously whispered. That has got to be utter bullshit, you thought.

"Sure, it may have only been to fuck me but it was something!"

"Just because they fuck you doesn't mean they care!" You jumped up. "They didn't fucking care but I did!" You pressed a finger to his chest. "I always have and I always will. Don't you fucking get it? I've been here since the beginning and you try to blame me for your dumb ass actions?"

Aegon grabbed your hand and pulled you close. "If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have to distract myself."

"Distract yourself? Did the death of your dad really fuck you up that bad? I know he didn't give a shit and you didn't either. Don't pretend to be so beat up over it." You tried to pull away but he held you tight.

"It fucked me up because it made me realize that I can somehow be better than my dad by caring about people."

You laughed. "And you care about every single girl you've fucked. Absolutely believable, Aeg."

He let go of you, almost pushing you away.

He dropped his head before speaking. "You said you cared. If you cared you would've been able to see the change."

You were gentle with your next words, "I can't read your mind. Just because I know you so well doesn't mean I can figure out every emotion you have."

Silence.

"Aeg, just tell me what's going on, please."

Still refusing to look at you, he dropped back to the couch. "I fell in love with you, that's what happened. I don't know when but I did. For some godforsaken reason my dad dying set off everything. All I could do was ignore it and I did that by taking someone to bed almost every night." He brought the bottle up to his lips but didn't drink anything.

You sat down next to him.

You didn't want to believe him.

"I know you've been drinking all night. You're just saying things."

He scoffed and chugged the rest of the beer. "Just because I've been drinking all night doesn't mean I don't know what I'm saying."

"Okay, fine. Let's assume everything you've told me is true. You may love me but nothing more than a friend, right?"

"No, that's not true."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

He locked eyes with you. "I wanted to push you."

"Push me? What did you need to push me for?" You questioned. "Besides, I think you pushed me pretty good when I attacked Sara."

"I pushed you too hard, I know that now. I did it because I wanted to get you closer to me. I wanted you jealous."

"First off, that's a fucking stupid plan. Second, I'm already close to you. Or at least was," you murmured the last part.

Aegon rubbed his eyes in frustration. "You don't get it. You're so fucking smart but you don't get it!"

"What don't I get?" You challenged.

"You don't get that I wanted you to make the first move!" He settled down before continuing. "I see the way you look at me. I see your reactions. I know you want more. But for once I needed you to make the first move. If you wanted me it had to be on your terms." He took a deep breath. "And you're right. I didn't give a shit about the girls I fucked. The only one I give a shit about is you. But when you didn't do anything I did what I know best. I didn't want to distract myself from my dad's death. Again, something you were right about. I was distracting myself from you."

You searched his eyes for any trace of dishonesty but didn't find any. "If you had said something I would've said yes." You reached out for his hand. "What you did was stupid but…I get it. Kinda. You were scared."

"Yeah, I was scared."

You scooted close to him. "Then take the leap." You were gentle with your words.

Aegon pulled you in and lowered his head to yours. "I don't want to fuck it up." His lips brushed against yours.

"So don't." You pressed your forehead against his.

For a few moments that's how you stayed. It was just you and Aegon. When you separated you gave him a soft smile. His eyes darted to your lips and you took your chance. You softly brushed your lips against his before giving him a true kiss.

Your eyes fluttered close. His lips were soft and joined you in tandem. It wasn't rough. The kiss was pure love. Emotions poured into the kiss. He pulled you on top of his lap before deepening the kiss. You smiled against him as you moved your hands up his arms and to his hair.

More. You wanted more.

You nipped at his bottom lip and he gladly opened up. When you slid your tongue in he snaked one arm around you right while the other ran up your sides. His arousal was beginning to prod against you and it spurred you on even more. You slowly rocked your hips against him.

"Fuck," he pulled away and buried his face in your neck. He kissed his way up and nipped at your ear. "You are so much better than the others."

"Don't talk about them. Look at me," you commanded.

Aegon looked up at you with big eyes.

"Take me to your room and I'll show you exactly what you missed out on."

He pushed you off his lap only to grab your wrist and practically run to his room. But before he could open the door you pulled him back and trapped him with one arm against the wall. You gave him a mischievous smile before dragging your hand down his body and to his hard cock. He tried to suppress a groan when you began palming him over his pants.

"Let it out, babe. I want to hear every sound you make."

You took pity on him when you could feel his cock getting harder. When you pulled your hand away he couldn't help but groan at the loss of contact.

"This is what happens when you play with me," you smirked.

Releasing him from the wall you let him take you into his room. Immediately you grabbed him by his hoodie to pull him down to you to crash your lips against his. Gone were the soft kisses. Now it was pure passion and lust.

You moved one hand to grab his and the other to place on his chest. As soon as you pushed him to the edge of the bed you took a step back.

"Strip for me," you commanded.

Aegon was quick to rid himself of his hoodie and sweatpants. When he went to pull down his underwear you stopped him.

"Let me do this." You came up to him and lowered yourself to your knees as you slid his briefs down.

His cock was at full attention, red and angry. You licked your lips and cupped his balls, slowly massaging them. He threw his head back.

"No, no. Look at me. I want you to watch me take you in."

All he could do was bring his head back and nod.

You moved your hand from his balls to his cock and slowly worked him. Leaning in to the tip you gave him small kitten licks. Once you got him breathing heavier you took all of him in your mouth. Never did you look away from him. You slowly began bobbing your head back and forth, loving the feel of him in you. When you decided to push him a little more with a hum around the cock he twitched. You hummed once again and brought your hand to his balls.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck, I'm gonna cum," he breathed.

As soon as he said that you released him with an obscene pop. Aegon whined when he left your warm mouth.

"Don't worry, there's more. Now, lay back. No touching."

He nodded his head.

"I need to hear you say it."

He gulped. "I promise I won't touch myself."

"Good boy," you smiled.

You ran your hands over your tits before reaching down to brush yourself over your clothes. You brought your hands up to slowly take off your top. Once again you ran your hands over your tits, this time playing with your nipples through your bra.You looked over at Aegon to see him grasping the sheets and slowly rolling his hips into nothing.

"Are you so desperate that you have to hump the air? Aw, poor baby," you taunted. You reached down to the top of your pants and pulled it down. "This is a better view, isn't it?"

You walked to the bed and sat on your haunches between his legs.

"Be a dear and take off my bra for me."

Aegon sat up and ran his hands over your breasts and stopped to play with your hardened peaks before unclasping the bra and throwing it across the room.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," you chided. "That wasn't nice. I guess I have to punish you now. Lay flat on your back." You could feel yourself get wetter telling him what to do.

He did as he was told, shaking with anticipation.

You climbed up his body to his face and slowly lowered yourself down.

"I want you to make me cum. You deserve to have a mess on your face."

He didn't need to be told twice. He pushed your panties to the side and licked a strip up your folds. He moaned and grabbed your thighs to keep you steady. He left open kisses all over your pussy. A coil began to tighten in your stomach.

"Fuck, babe. You're so good at eating my pussy. Do I taste good?"

You heard a muffled yes and smiled to yourself.

He moved from your folds to your clit. You rolled your hips against his face as he sucked and licked your bud. Every swipe of his tongue had you throwing your head back in bliss. It was almost too much but he didn't stop. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Aegon moved away from your clit only to replace it with his thumb. He rubbed lazy circles as he dipped his tongue into your dripping cunt. He sped up his fucking and pressed on your clit sending you over the edge. The coil in your stomach released as you made a mess on his face.

You moved off his face. "What a good boy," you praised. "I think it's time for a reward."

You lowered yourself down his body. Wrapping a hand around his cock you worked him up to full hardness again. You gave him a few licks before taking the head in you mouth and sucking just a tiny bit. It was enough to make him moan and buck his hips up ever so slightly.

Letting go of him you chuckled when you moved to straddle him and lined up his cock with your pussy.

"Are you ready for me to ride you?"

"Yes, yes please."

"Good."

You slipped off your panties and let the drop next to the bed before sinking down on his cock. The stretch had you moaning, feeling every inch of him inside you completely. The way he filled you couldn't be described coherently. You began to move your hips slowly, taunting him. Aegon whimpered as he fought the urge to grab your waist

You leaned down to whisper in his ear. "You can touch me," you tell him. "I want you to touch me."

That was all he needed to let go of the sheets and attack your body with his hands. He ran over every single curve trying to commit them to memory. You swore you saw his mouth water when he reached up to play with your tits. You leaned down to give him better access. Immediately he took a nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it.

You could feel that coil tighten again. Your hips rocked against him when he brought one hand to your clit. You had no choice but to sit up again and bounce on his cock.

"Holy fuck yes! Please, please, please, Aegon! Gods, you're so good at fucking me!"

He let out a deep groan as he pushed his hips up even higher. "You're tightening around me - oh, gods - you're gonna make me cum inside you," he moaned. His hands moved to your hips helping you ride him but he was getting sloppy.

"Do it." You were clenching around him tighter than you ever thought was possible.

"Do it, Aegon. Cum for me."

The thrusts became desperate and wild. You and Aegon let out a scream as you came together. You felt him empty himself inside you. His cock twitched weakly as you tried to control your collapse on him. He wrapped his arms around you.

"Can we stay like this?" He asked, his cock still inside you.

"Yes, of course." You turned your head and kissed his cheek. "I want this. I want you, Aegon."

"I know."

A few minutes passed before you moved off of him. You felt empty without him inside you but you got up anyway and kneeled on the floor so you head was by his. You ran a hand through his hair and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Let me clean you up, babe," you whispered.

"Okay." He reached over to cup your face and traced a small circle on your cheek.

You got up to go to the bathroom to clean yourself up then returned with a wet towel. Giving him a small smile, you ran the towel over his body. You were extra careful around his lower regions knowing he was still sensitive. When you finished cleaning him you slipped yourself into his arms.

"Look at me, Aegon." You said. "You're not gonna fuck this up."

"I don't want to hurt you." His eyes filled with worry.

"We are not going to fuck it up," you paused. "I love you, too. Always have and always will."

[absolutebl]

This Week In BL - I’m pleased with what’s airing, but conflicted about what’s ended & getting started

Aug 2023 Wk 1

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Laws of Attraction (Sat iQIYI) 4 of 8 - Omg the way the bodyguard (handler?) looks at the rich kid. Gah. I see why @heretherebedork​ loves these 2. But I really hate him (not the handler, the kid). Fun fight scene. I love lawyer babygirl SO MUCH. HE WILL BE MY 2023 FAV CHARACTER. I’M CALLING IT. This ep, Srs? You’re killing me. Suits! Pussycat bows! And then... The Public Claiming!!!!! One of my favorite tropes! And openly flirting? Boys. I’m getting spoiled. Wait… is that…? NO SINGING. Ah well, Thai BL giveth and Thai BL taketh away. 

Hidden Agenda that isn’t hidden (Sun GMMTV YouTube) ep 4 of 10 - I like the script for this. It feels like the conversations they have are very honest to a uni experience. It’s comfortable and breezy. I did not expect the kiss. Bit early in the arc. There is either going to be a lot of backend drama, or a long domestic honeymoon period. (Bet you can guess which one I vote for.) 

Low Frequency (Sat iQIYI) ep 5 of 8 - It’s moving along in a Ghost Host kinda way (minus the killer chemistry). I’m not mad about it, I don’t think I'll remember it tho. 

Be Mine Super Star (Mon Viki) ep 5 of 12 - My ambivalent relationship with this drama continues. Cohabitation trope. Punn is basically a huge puppy trying to spoil/cuddle/fuck his pretty kitty prince. It is what it is. Meanwhile, I just want more of Big Daddy & the Hot Doc. (Also the name of my burlesque show.) Why does Kevin have more chemistry with Ashi in a 1 min long scene than Punn has had… ever? Is this nascent bad boy effect or nascent 2nd lead syndrome I’m feeling? (Meanwhile Ben! Hi! Long time no see!) 

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 11 of 12 - Whatever. Trash(ish) watch here. 

Dinosaur Love (Sun iQIYI) ep 6 of 8 eps - Aw pretty baby is unhappy his bf got injured. But also very blushing maiden. This is profoundly NOT GOOD. 

Wedding Plan (Weds YT & iQIYI) ep 3 of 7 - I have decided that Lom’s theme song is BigBang’s Monster. Listen. You’ll see what I mean. Also BigBang = also very problematic but banging. What I’m saying is, I wanna punch Lom so bad, I went slightly bonkers. Water sports are addressed. A trash watch is happening!

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Jun & Jun (Korea Thurs Viki) 3 of 8 - How DARE they make me love this show so much? I feel personally attacked. The smell thing! Gah. The way they automatically go informal in private. The flirting. The language. The suits, the EVERYTHING. It’s embarrassing how much I rewatch the final bits of each ep. 

Stay By My Side (Taiwan Fri Gaga) 6 of 10 eps - I adore this ridiculous show. (I just realized that the actor playing Jiang Chi played Ray’s evil 2-timing bf in About Youth). Baby boy is quite clueless. Sweet dreams tho. I love them both so much. The washing his jersey scene was so fucking cute. Couple’s numbers, couple’s keychains, bridal towel, kisses. Thank you Taiwan for NOT activating blushing maiden. However, confident gay/confused bisexual is a go. And we got us some justifiable angst. Sigh. I’m so happy. 

Sing My Crush AKA Follow The Wind (Korea Weds iQIYI) 1-2 of 8 eps - supposed to have released in the first half of 2022 this is a adaption of Myung’s webtoon, from the director of My Sweet Dear, and Love Tractor’s production house, basically Korea does About Youth. It’s sweet (the singing bits are easy to skip) and very much a story of young first love but less stiff than KBL’s usual high school fare (kinda Taiwan feeling). I like it but that very imprecision in production makes me concerned for an HEA, especially with such a low MDL rating. 

Tokyo in April is... AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 8fin  - Rough final episode, but it does end happily. Fortunately, I had some warning for my personal triggers, but this is Japan and they did go dark. Full review below. 

Minato's Laundromat Season 2 AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Japan Thu Gaga) 5 of 12 eps - Shin is so cute and proud and boldly out. I love him. Movement in the relationship with both couples, even if it’s movement into arguments and misunderstanding. I suppose we got 12 eps they need to do... something.  

Stay Still (Hong Kong Tues YouTube) 1 of 5 eps - It’s confusing. And… not good? Some flashbacks some present day? 

It’s airing but ...

Stay With Me ... NO I WILL NOT! And you can’t make me.

Review: Tokyo in April is... AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa

I had to chew on this for a while but here’s where I ended up. 

Two young men with a shared tragic past reunite and fall in love all over again, but the past will not stop hunting them. Based on a manga, this office set reunion romance is GREAT… damn it. It’s Japan in full on soft focus which means it gets emo, abusive, and chewy. These two characters are giving parts of their souls away in a desperate attempt to shape themselves to the expectations they have of each other. 

Japan gave us the Bed Friends that Thailand could never even imagine. But here’s the thing: I don’t enjoy my BL this heavy and cutting. I know that for The 8th Sense crowd this is peak BL and I can’t argue with the fact that the romantic devotion, domesticity, script, and acting IS all on point. It’s just not my personal preference for that point to be so damn sharp. I appreciate that this being 2023 I have the luxury of consistent quality (especially from Japan) and thus the ability to say… 

I acknowledge that this SHOULD get a 9/10 but I can’t emotionally go higher than 8/10 

RECOMMENDED BUT KNOW WHAT KIND OF BL THIS IS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS LIKE CRAZY 

Japan = sticking to its lanes like their BL is on rails. 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting: 

8/11 Love Class Season 2 (Korea Fri Viki) 10 eps 

8/12 My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho (Japan Sat Gaga) 8 eps 

Still Coming August 2023

8/19 Love in Translation (Thai Sat One31) ? eps - Two strangers start working in a cafe together.

8/19 I Feel You Linger in the Air (Thai Sat Gaga) 12 eps - The time travel historical romance many of us have been waiting for. 

8/20 My Universe series (Thai Sun iQIYI) 24 episodes - This is sampler pack BL, 12 pairs, each pair gets 2 eps, not sure on the order they’ll drop. Known couples include EarthBank from Destiny Seeker and KaownahTurbo from Love Stage!!!, mostly fresh faces otherwise. Jane to direct several.

8/22 Kisseki: Dear to Me formerly known as Miracle (Taiwan Tues ????) 13 eps - From screenwriter Lin Pei Yu (We Best Love, H3: Trapped) features a student doctor forced to take care of a gangster. I love the premise and like the writer, Viki or Gaga will get this one.  

8/24 Man Suang (Thailand movie, domestic cinema release) - historical drama about Thai burlesque with KP’s MileApo. Tong is in this one too?

8/? Why R U? (Korean remake) is supposed to be out this month, filming started in sept 22. I find everything about this hilarious. I mean if Korea remakes it, we lose all the sexy and then... would we have a story at all? No we would not. Not even for six short eps. It’d be like one of those mesh shopping bags.

Oh yeah, Only Friends is coming. 

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Hidden Agenda. I love them. 

Public claiming with the waist grab maneuver! A true hero. 

But I think we can all agree that THIS is the hero all love triangles deserve. (both Laws) 

(Last week) 

[discodeviant]

Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide and Ideation, Unhappy Ending Category & Ships: M/M | Harringrove Summary: Billy, throughout his life, has experienced pain so great that he thinks it’s all there is, suffering at the hands of an authoritarian father and the inner workings of his own bleakened subconscious. It's a long, slow walk to the gallows when Hawkins, Indiana becomes his new home—until Steve comes along and opens his eyes to a kind of love that lasts forever and far beyond.

Read Highway Star: Act III on AO3 (requires login) Act I | Act II

THE FINAL ACT !!!!! Next chapter is the epilogue! Please enjoy and thank you to everyone reading, it means a lot to meeeee <3 <3 <3

[skepsiss]

(he's) a runaway foal that doesn't know where to go.

Remember! If you love a post, Reblog, don't just Like! This is the art I did for @moltenchocolatelavacake's lovely fic! Learn all the deets below, and give it a read! Full deets below the cut.

[Read it here]

Words: 17,540 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Steddie, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Original Male Character (minor)

Summary:

Steve Harrington has always loved too much, he knows this. And yet he's never been enough for anybody. It's why relationships never work out for him. But he tried again because of course he did. Always too stupid for his own good, his feelings were bullshit. A week after having his heart broken by a man he believed he’d meant more to than flirty phone calls and occasional fucks, Steve ends up at Forest Hills Trailer Park. He’d gone looking for a reprieve, a comfort, a way out of his grief. Instead, he finds a pair of pale arms and a yearning heart eager to help him heal and, maybe, show him his love is enough.

Please do not use or repost this art without permission. In case it wasn't obvious... art by me.

Chapters: 3/3 [Finished] Words: 17,540 Fandom: Stranger Things - Fandom, Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Steddie, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Original Male Character CWs: Angst, Heartbreak, Healing, Slow Burn (But just a little), Friends to Lovers, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Alcohol, Open Relationships

Collections: Steddie Big Bang 2023. Steddie Bigbang project #214

This is for the @steddiebang! I really loved creating this piece, and as Molten said in one of our chats, "it's like an eye-spy book of my fic!" Find all the details, I put a lot of love into it ;3

[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."

[asa-do-your-thing]

The Shadows of The Lost Court

Dark!Aemond x F!OC - 18+ MINORS DNI Word Count: 8.6k TW: dubcon, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Shameless Smut, Angst, Fellatio, Misogyny, Internalized Misogyny, Non-Consensual Drug use, Religious Imagery, Symbolism and guilt

Art made by the lovely @nyctophilic0vitnir - thank you so much sweetheart! <3 And thank you so so much @ewanmitchellcrumbs for organizing this @hotd-bigbang , you are amazing!

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Elisabeth shuddered and stopped, turning around, coughing to try and relieve her dry mouth. 

She knew. She knew… She knew something. Something was following her. 

Leaning against a grubby, crumbling wall, Elisabeth tried catching her breath. There was nothing there, neither on the left, nor on the right. Only cobwebs; cobwebs, moss and the smell of decay.

 ‘Is The Stranger a something or a someone?’

Tonight was different. The milk came sooner than usual.

Elisabeth struggled - where some people love the rush and the calmness afterward, she hated it. Hated the way it made her sick. Hated the way it lamed her tongue; hated the way it hid her. She knew better than anyone that her doses were calculated. Maester Rithyr must have gotten the order for her to be silenced, not addicted. That wouldn’t look good. 

Elisabeth peered out of a window, only to see thick tendrils of fog curling up from the ground like ghostly fingers. The dim light filtering through the mist gave everything a spectral, otherworldly hue. She took notice of how broken everything looked: shattered windows, splintered doors and debris scattered across the dusty floor. She sighed heavily as she rearranged her long, dark brown hair under its veil, trying to keep it in place amidst all the chaos. And then, she heard him again - his footsteps echoing through the ruins.

The sound made her feel uneasy; it was too quiet, too lonely. For a moment she wondered if she was in trouble or hurt. But then a chill ran down her spine and she realized that perhaps it wasn't just the desolate ruin around her making her feel so cold and scared.

“You swore to obey me. You swore before the gods, you brutish whore. After all I’ve done for you…”, the voice echoed around her.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He was closing in on her. The staircase seemed to be miles away, yet still, she pushed herself away from the moss-covered stones and cautiously started walking. Elisabeth grunted, her legs burning. It was as if she was walking against a current of water, one that swept her slowly closer to him. She stepped over a rotting tapestry and tightly clung onto the handrail of the staircase. 

‘Why would The Stranger think of me like that? Is it time for me to… die?’

Carefully descending down, she peered up the stairs. The window let in cold, humid gusts of air and Elisabeth was sure that she could see his dark robe in the shadow. Knowing that the Queen’s Ballroom had no other exit, she trudged past it, stopping to catch her breath along the way.

Out. Out of Maegor’s Holdfast, her mind urged her. But where would she go? As soon as the Kingsguardmen saw her, they would gently escort her back into her chamber. That’s the way it has been for a long time. Biting her lamed tongue, she quietly walked down to the entrance and glanced out. No one was there. No one, except for the occasional rat that scurried through the lower bailey. 

“I saw the way that the Strong bastard looked at you. You were with him, weren’t you? Was it not enough to tell him about our political strategies, but to also give him your useless cunny? Do you even know the shame you bring onto this realm?”

Her breath hitched as she saw him closing in on her, his dark cape billowing in the light wind. Glancing up at the serpentine steps, she felt a thick raindrop splashing down onto her. That was just what she needed - collapsing on the slick stairs, The Stranger close behind her. No, risking embarrassment by climbing over the ledge into the Godswood was far more appealing to her. 

“Leave me be! I beg of you!”, she whined, her lungs on fire.

'I cannot do this anymore, not long, anyhow, my feet... my lungs... The Stranger... Death...', she thought, unable to focus on anything else than him.

The Godswood was an ancient and sinister place, a twisted forest lurking within the heart of Maegor's Holdfast. Towering weirwood trees with their deathly white trunks and faint streaks of crimson formed a menacing roof above, and the loamy earth seemed to swallow her every step. Elisabeth took a raspy breath, feeling the icy, dank air fill her lungs. The stench of decay surrounded her, the smell of putrefaction and rot. Rain drops pelted down onto her skin, the soil beneath her feet sodden.

Elisabeth moved with a sense of urgency, her feet burning as she weaved through the dense trees. The pattering of rain on the leaves above offered her some concealment as she made her way between the shelter of one tree to another, hoping to avoid detection by her pursuer. Suddenly, a twig snapped behind her and she whirled around, only to hear the sound of footsteps growing louder and louder.

Her heart in her throat, she ducked behind a gnarled oak tree, taking cover from the ominous presence that was closing in on her. She could feel every drop of cold rain as it streamed down her face and hair, running down her back and soaking through to her skin. Each breath was ragged and tumultuous as beads of perspiration bubbled up on her forehead. Elisabeth shuddered uncontrollably in the frigid air before finally forcing herself to keep moving forward through the relentless downpour.

Elisabeth could hear the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest as she tried to make her way through the Godswood. She was shaking with fear, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. She knew that The Stranger was close behind her; she could feel his presence like a dark cloud looming over her.

She stumbled over a tree root, nearly falling to the ground, before weakly righting herself and continuing on. Her hair was plastered to her face and neck,  her clothes were soaked through. However, insignificant concerns like the dampness penetrating her to the core were overshadowed by her urgent need to elude her relentless pursuer.

Abruptly, a chilling sound pierced the silence, causing her blood to freeze in her veins. It was the eerie scrape of something sharp grating against the gnarled bark of a tree, almost like the sound of a blade being sharpened before an execution. Her heart raced as she whirled around, and there, amidst the gusty winds, stood The Stranger, his ominous dark robe unfurling like a spectre from the shadows.

"You can't escape me."

Elisabeth recoiled in terror, her wide-eyed gaze darting around frantically, searching for a possible escape route. However, the Godswood resembled an inescapable labyrinth of winding trees and dense underbrush, leaving her utterly trapped.

The Stranger took a step forward, his eyes fixed on her. Elisabeth saw the hunger in his gaze, the hunger for her soul. She knew that she was doomed. With a cry of despair, she turned and ran, darting between the trees as fast as she could. The Stranger was right behind her, his footsteps pounding on the wet ground.

She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, cold and ...familiar? Shaking her head quickly and looking up into the sky, she saw the towers again. She probably ran around in circles, her dazed mind tricking her into thinking she had been trapped in a forest.

Frantically sprinting out of the oppressive Godswood, she sucked in a deep breath of fresh air as her gaze fell upon the dilapidated Outer Bailey. The once-glorious stone walls loomed ominously over her, crumbling inward from age and neglect. Threadbare tapestries hung limply in the breeze, swaying like ghosts in an abandoned graveyard. Gaping holes in the walls revealed chipped statues that had been carved centuries ago, still standing guard despite their years of neglect. In the far distance, the towers soared into the sky, dark voids against a backdrop of gray clouds.

Elisabeth inhaled deeply as a thick, unsettling aroma engulfed her. The scent of lavender and jasmine combined with the decaying smell of rotting fruit and mildew. In the distance, Elisabeth could hear the faint sound of buzzing from unseen insects lurking beyond the shadows. She stumbled forward, mesmerized by the air that was heavy with an ominous foreboding.

At last she reached the entrance to The Sept - an imposing structure made entirely out of pale stone blocks that glowed in the fading light. Stone steps rose up to meet two large wooden doors while several small windows peeked out like watchful eyes looking down on her every move.

Elisabeth, feeling the stinging of her lungs, ran into the Sept and fell down on her knees. She laid atop the golden seven-pointed star on the floor and looked up at the statue of the Mother, trying her hardest not to look at the Stranger. To calm her head, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, running her dry, cracked hands over her burning calves. The tears continued flowing over her pallid face, running down into her dirty gown. 

‘What is happening to me? Why on earth would the Seven punish me so?’

She remembered her wedding. It was magnificent, aye. But then again, it had to be. After Joffrey’s death at Princess Rhaenyra’s wedding tourney, she was quietly whisked away from the Stormlands and settled into the Red Keep as a way of keeping the Lonmouth’s - and to a greater extent the Baratheon’s - good graces, so as not to let them favour Princess Rhaenyra’s claim in the case of King Viserys’ death.

The time until the courtship was quiet, that much Elisabeth still remembered. She grew up alongside Princess Helaena - Helaena being three years older than her. Endless hours of handiwork, study and prayer had shrouded her in relative solitude, so when she turned four and ten, she was shocked to be invited to the Royal Table more often and to be invited for strolls with Prince Aemond. Back then she had still been Lady Elisabeth, not 'Princess Bess'.

Later she understood why the engagement happened. Prince Aemond had to marry to secure the crown’s security and to show the green faction that they had gotten the Stormlands support.

She often asked herself why they had chosen her over the Baratheon girls. They were more comely - Elisabeth's stature was short and plump, giving her the appearance of a child much younger than her age. Her brow was rounded, her cheeks plump and her eyes large with dark, scared pupils. Her Monmouth blood - the one that made her relation Joffrey so beautiful - must have passed her by. Her long, dark hair was thick but formless, hanging in her face without curls or ringlets. It was clear to her that Aemond was not interested in her, not in the romantic sense at least. 

As days turned into weeks, Elisabeth discovered that Prince Aemond was the first man with whom she could engage in conversations almost as equals. His cold, yet encouraging words had ignited a spark within her, urging her to delve deeper into her thoughts and ideas. Over time, an unexpected fondness began to blossom in Elisabeth's heart for him. In his unique manner, he exuded a charming gloomy aura that drew her in. Many hours passed in their quiet companionship, their noses buried in books, immersed in shared moments of silent contemplation. Their intellectual pursuits were often overseen by the watchful presence of Princess Helaena, serving as a discreet but ever-vigilant chaperone.

But now, as she lay on the floor of the Sept, she wondered if she had made a grave mistake somewhere along the line in her life. Should she have taken her vows? Life as a septa would’ve suited her far more than whatever tragedy her current situation had turned into.

Aemond had changed since they were wed. Princess Helaena said that that was the case for most men, yet somehow, a small glimmer of hope still arose that it might have been different. He had become more... mean. It was as though he was a different person entirely.

Although... he had always been the quiet sort. The kind of man that you could hear exhaling slowly whenever he heard a foolish remark, the kind of man that judged everyone for everything, the kind of man that doesn't even think himself superior - he believes it.

Elisabeth couldn't help but think of the Stranger. It was a foolish thought, she knew. But in some ways, Aemond reminded her of the mysterious figure. Both were dark, brooding, and unpredictable. 

Elisabeth had always been on edge when Queen Alicent was around; her hawk-like gaze followed her every move and her scornful words cut deeper than any blade. Every time Elisabeth tried to be independent or think for herself, the Queen would chastise her that those were qualities meant just for Husbands.

After months of having to constantly please the Queen and ignore her own wants and needs, Elisabeth felt like a teetering ball ready to burst with the slightest push. She was too afraid to say anything, though, in fear of making things worse.

Then arrived the fateful day of her wedding, a lavish spectacle replete with tournaments, sumptuous feasts, and exhilarating hunts—a grand display of House Targaryen's power and influence. The exuberance of the festivities infected all who attended, making it effortless for others to revel in the celebrations.

However, beneath the surface of the revelry, Elisabeth harboured a mixture of anxiety and excitement, uncertain of what her future held in store. In the midst of it all, Prince Aemond had become a steadfast presence in her life, forging a deep connection with her. He seemed to grasp the essence of her being, affording her the precious gift of solitude for introspection, or so she believed. He made sure to squash her hopes.

For most, that had been a grande and joyous event. For Elisabeth, it was the start of her misery, though she did not yet know the full extent. As the Queen had instructed her, she treated everyone courteously, demurely.

That she did, or at least she thought that she did. Her husband disagreed, though. As soon as they were escorted into his chamber (he had wished for the doors to be closed), he spun around and pushed her against a wall. Aemond asked with a steely voice, towering over her, if she had been cavorting with the Velaryons, the way she had smiled at them, the way Jacaerys’ lips lingered on her hand as he greeted her.

Aemond questioned if she thought him to be blind. Elisabeth whimpered and gulped, trying her hardest not to hold Aemond's hard gaze, when she explained that she was told to be courteous to everyone, only to be cut off, when Aemond had pushed her even harder, making her yelp in pain, her shoulders burning from his strong grip. He ordered her to hush and questioned her why she would associate herself with usurpers, bastards and sodomites. 

What followed was of no particular interest to her, not anymore, anyways. Someone outside of the chamber, presumably Maester Myntheon, cleared their throat and told them to settle any disputes after the ceremony. Aemond had quickly slipped off his breeches - the fact that he didn’t even care enough to fully undress stung her after it had happened - and made sure to get her naked as soon as possible. 

She laid there, freezing, looking up at the tapestries next to their bed as he quickly stroked himself. ‘Do not do anything, lest he should think you a whore’ ran through her mind so often, that she almost thought that a small version of Alicent sat in her brain, spewing her nonsensical rules over and over so she could drive herself insane. 

“Open up.”

When Aemond saw her puzzled expression, he sighed, shook his head and gently pried her legs open, pulling her down the bed so that she was close to the ledge, closer to him and his half-hard member.

“I need to get to your cunt. Don’t make this more difficult for us than it has to be.”

Elisabeth felt her face heat up, and even though the room was dark, she could feel a heavy blush take over her neck and cheeks. She opened her legs wider and tried to steel herself for what was to come, but all too soon Aemond was pushing himself inside of her. She gasped as he entered her roughly, not giving her time to adjust. He kept thrusting into her with more force than necessary, making it hurt even more than it should have. Did he know it hurt? Did it hurt him?

She tried to cry out but he put a hand on her mouth and told her he was almost done. Tears started streaming down Elisabeth's face as Aemond kept going for what seemed like an eternity until finally his body went limp on top of hers. He rolled off of the bed without saying a word and left the room without so much as glancing at Elisabeth again.

Elisabeth lay there in shock, touching herself gingerly where Aemond had just been. For the first time ever she felt ashamed of herself; despite all that had just happened she still felt pleasure deep within herself that made her feel worse than before - something no one had prepared her for or warned about prior to this momentous night.

Was she a wanton whore? Was.. was Alicent right?

That was that. After that, he visited her fortnightly, stated his needs and left again. Although, Elisabeth noted quickly to herself, he had gotten gentler after seeing her bruised cunny. Proving she was a virgin had been no great feat. Her fear had made her so stiff and dry that there were multiple splotches of blood on the bed sheet, so many that even Alicent deemed to congratulate her. That was also the time where Alicent had started giving her milk of the poppy and after that, Elisabeth could not remember anything reliably. 

Even if she could, she noticed it was not the time to reminisce anymore. His eyes were dark and bright at the same time, void of feeling even while raging with anger. The candles flickered nervously on the altars as he stalked into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Slowly turning around, she tried looking up at him despite her shaky vision. He was tall, wearing a cape with a large hood that covered his face.

If he wouldn’t … glide and give off a sense of dread, one could almost think it was Aemond himself. Yet, the way she knew him, he would not have spent such a long time chasing her and taunting her. He made it clear enough to her, she didn’t matter. 

“Have you come to confess? To repent?”

The Stranger offered her a hand, which she eyed cautiously. 

“Have you come to take me? Or are.. You taunting me?”

He laughed ominously. “You know me, I could never taunt you in a sept. But… taking you? That is a very bold request, Lady Wife.” 

Lady Wife? Elisabeth shivered and groaned, taking his cold hand. She was not instantly taken away to the realm of the dead, which made her glad and worried at the same time. 

“Wh… why..? And… why Lady Wife? I’m Elisabeth, don’t you know?” 

The Stranger helped her up and held her for a while until she gained complete function over her legs again. Letting her go, he stepped away again and looked around the Sept. 

“You're quite perplexing. You've yet to respond to my allegations, and instead, you've led me on a convoluted journey through the Red Keep, Bess.”

Calmly folding his arms behind his back, he strolled through the small hall, making sure his eyes were firmly on her shaking form.

“You even took me here, just to ask me to be with you, despite your previous reluctance. Has something changed, perhaps due to a newfound perspective from The Maiden?”

Elisabeth cocked her head to the side, trying her hardest to identify the figure in front of her. Why would… why would The Stranger care for her relations with Princess Rhaenyra and her sons? 

Why would… why would he want to engage in an amorous congress with her? Was that a cruel way the gods were testing her? 

“Well… You chased me… I thought you meant harm to me…” 

The figure hummed and it almost looked like his face turned into a doleful expression. 

“I could mean you harm depending on the answers you shall give me. We are in a sept - if you lie, you are damned. Do you know that?”

Elisabeth took a few steps back and lowered her eyes again. So it was the Stranger. He was asking about her sins so that she might repent before he took her away. That realisation hit her gut like a punch. Tears started welling up in her eyes. 

“I… yes, I do, but believe me, I-”

“I shall decide for myself if you are innocent, Lady Wife. Spare me your tales of woe.”

Closing the distance to her again, the figure gently took her chin into his hand and forced her to look up into his eyes. He quickly smoothed her hair and wiped the tears from her face.

“Before I ask you though, I need to take you. I need to take what is mine; you have ignored me long enough and now that you’ve asked me, I would be a fool not to take you up on your offer.” 

Elisabeth whimpered and stood rooted on the spot. If it weren’t for the weird pull in her stomach, she would have pleaded, would have fled. But something… Something about the way the figure touched her so gently, so caringly, made her heart leap in ways that have seldom happened. Nothing made sense anymore. 

On one hand, she wondered why on earth the Stranger wanted to take her, yet on the other, she knew that what the Gods willed was destined to happen. And if that wasn’t the Stranger? Well, but who would it be? A dream figure? But why would she dream of such things? Was she so depraved and craven? Maybe she was. In that moment, delirious and flush with adrenaline, she threw all concern out of the tiny window of propriety that she still had in her foggy mind. 

Placing a trembling hand around the Stranger’s waist, Elisabeth nodded lightly. 

“Take me then, if you must,” she whispered. The Stranger smiled in response and embraced her tightly, pulling her close to his chest as he kissed the top of her head.

They stayed like that for what felt like eternity and Elisabeth swam in a sea of emotions like never before. She could feel his heart beating against her own, slowly but surely drawing them closer together. 

He smelled familiar. Something in her mind told her she knew him; the smell of leather, dragons and sweat. Could it be...?

At long last, the figure pressed his cold lips onto hers, almost possessively. Even though it had been one of her first kisses, he guided her strongly, making sure that she couldn’t doubt him or his intentions.

Bess tried her hardest to banish the thought of Aemond in her head. No, it couldn’t be - Aemond never kissed her. It had to be the Stranger. Was that the metaphorical kiss of death? 

Answering her doubts, the Stranger slowly started to undress her, as if he was uncovering a precious gem. His hands moved with a slow and patient rhythm, almost like a ritual or dance as they explored every inch of her body. He caressed her curves and memorised every quirk on her figure until Bess had no more will left in her to resist.

For a moment it felt like time had stopped. As if the entire world was focused on them and their lovemaking; their own little bubble of pleasure and passion that nothing could penetrate. Aemond let out a low moan of pleasure as he drew his lips down Bess’s neck, relishing in the taste of her skin against his tongue. She shuddered beneath him as his fingers slowly moved ever lower, exploring each inch of her body without an ounce of inhibition or shame. She gasped when she felt his tongue swirl around one sensitive spot near the base of her spine before finally coming to rest between her legs, ready for exploration…

Elisabeth found herself melting beneath Aemond’s touch as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body in response to his ministrations. His fingers seemed to know exactly where to go and what buttons to press – it was almost like he was born again.

It was almost like Elisabeth had been born again. The grogginess in her mind had subsided almost as soon as she had felt the pleasure; so had the illusion of the Stranger. But then again, her Aemond had never been kind, gently, loving in bed. He had always been rough with her, pulling her hair if he got too excited. And this man…Her Aemond had never touched her the way he did right now. Was she still dreaming?

Aemond stepped back, the space between them electric with passion and anticipation. His smouldering gaze locked with hers, and she felt a rush of heat that paralyzed her body and mind. Even though he had desired her since the day they were married, he thought she despised him, yet now in a sept the intensity of his longing was palpable. The air around them was thick with desire.

"I need you to taste me. I need to see you naked, on your knees, here, in front of the gods. Elisabeth, I finally want to claim you as my own, as my wife, and not as a piece of meat I spill my seed into every fortnight."

Despite all of her hesitance and apprehension, Elisabeth obeyed without any objection; he was still her lord husband and adhering to her spouse was the utmost important action she could take as a dutiful wife.

With trembling, cold hands she took his long, hard member and guided it towards her mouth. Was that her punishment? But for what? She had done nothing to warrant this perverse humiliation, but as he placed a hot, determined hand on the back of her head, she knew that she hadn't had much of a choice.

Gently, Elisabeth opened her mouth and engulfed Aemond’s cock. She could feel him shudder at her touch, and the heat that emanated from his body caused her pulse to race. His breathing was ragged as he gasped her name again and again, urging her on.

With a gentle hand, she guided Aemond’s hips closer to hers before taking him deeper into her mouth. The sensation of his velvety smooth skin against hers was electrifying. Her tongue gently danced around him, exploring every inch of his manhood until he could no longer hold back the intensity of his pleasure.

Elisabeth felt embarrassed and exposed; this seemed like something she should never be allowed to do in front of the gods. But the sheer pleasure that it evoked in both herself and Aemond kept her going. Gods, it felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

"Fuck. Yes, Bess... You belong to me... Not to The Strong bastards, not to Aegon, not to anyone else... You're... fuck... mine..."

Aemond's hands tightened around her head, making sure she was as deep as her mouth allowed her to be as he released a long moan before spilling himself inside her mouth. It was hot, salty and Elisabeth tried her hardest swallowing it without looking up at him.

With a throbbing head, she released him and covered her face in shame. She knew the milk was dangerous - yet making her dream of death and running through the Red Keep? Taking Aemond's cock like a... a dirty Harlot?

That was more than she could take. Now he knew that she was a weak person, that there was only a weak will buzzing around inside her. The last thing she needed now was the usual gloating expression on his face - his unbearable questioning. 

“I’ve done all you wanted. Ask me your questions, so that you might finally understand that none of this was ever my will,” she said as she wiped her mouth, her voice brittle.

Aemond gave her a cold look of confusion and cocked his head to the side, closing his breeches and slipping his doublet on again, after he had caught his breath. 

“What wasn’t your will? Giving yourself to me here?” 

Elisabeth sighed. "You're my husband. Your wish is my command."

Aemond, in his usual fashion, looked away from her in shame, flaring his nostrils.

"Alright then. If it is your wish again to make me feel like the worst human being in the world, then I shall do so too. I thought I could take you to your chambers again, get you a hot bath... Alas, my Lady Wife, you asked for the interrogation yourself."

He walked over to the Statue of the Mother and gave her a cold look, his tousled white hair gently floating down his back. His eyepatch made him look even scarier than it usually did.

"I've heard rumours that you've taken moon tea. Do you want to avoid giving me an heir? Swear on the Mother."

Elisabeth shivered and slowly dressed herself again, making sure not to break eye contact with Aemond. The milk made it's presence - or rather, abscence known again - it made her desperately queasy. The aftertaste of Aemond's spunk in her mouth certainly did not help.

"I swear on the Mother I haven't been taking Moon... Tea."

Aemond raised his eyebrow in a quizzical manner.

"Then what is that concoction that Maester Rithyr brings you? I can't imagine it being a skin cream."

If looks could kill, Aemond would've joined the Stranger's embrace right then and there.

"Do not mock me, Lord Husband. You and your filthy snake of a mother know exactly what it is he brings me," she seethed, her voice thick with venom. "It is exactly the thing that made me think you were the Stranger chasing me through..."

Anger was not the only thing that bubbled up inside her. Retching, she emptied her stomach onto the marble floor, the large marble hall making the splattering sound of her vomit uncomfortably loud.

Aemond's eyes blazed with fury, one hand pulled back in a fist ready to strike. But before he had the chance, Aemond's gaze fell on her frail, sweaty body next to a pool of her own bloody vomit and his arm fell limp. He was held in place by the sight, unable to move or even blink as his anger turned into fear.

"Bess, gods, tell me what it is he gives you! Come clean to me, you foolish girl!"

Elisabeth flinched and wiped her lips, groaning weakly. Aemond had not seemed like someone who would lead her into danger or punish her for being honest - if he wanted to be so cruel, he could've hit her when she cursed his mother. She took in a deep breath and tried to rid herself of the sour taste in her mouth, then nervously patted her clammy palms on the stained fabric of her dress. Leaning against the statue of the Father, she felt a little bit safer.

"From the moment we were wed, your mother has given me milk of the poppy. Told me you'd stop trying to give me an heir if I continued to act the way I did."

Coughing, she shook her head and gave Aemond a cold look. His face was unreadable - no reaction was a reaction, Elisabeth noted and took a deep breath before continuing.

"The people in front of our door at our bedding ceremony told her of your indignant attitude to me and my inability to give you an heir after that. She... She thought I was denying you and that you were too courteous to take what was yours."

Elisabeth heaved once more, so Aemond propped her up and held her hair back. As she vomited, a worrying amount of blood appeared - it was nearly just that. Frowning, Aemond used a piece of fabric from her dress to clean up her lips afterwards.

"Please continue," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on her skin. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and wished she were in bed with a warm blanket instead of being forced to confess. But the more she said, the better chance she had of avoiding drinking that awful milk again.

"She was always displeased with me and she did not hesitate to tell me so. She told me the Daeron's future wife - a certain Clara Lannister," she gave him a sharp look putting a finger to her lips, signaling to him that it was a secret and that he didn't hear it from her, "would have made a much better wife to you than I have. She's even more pious, meeker, prettier..."

Aemond huffed. "Clara's a feeble twelve year old hussy and she has wrapped the court around her pretty little fingers. I still cannot quite comprehend why my mother would try... try to drug and shut you up."

Elisabeth raised her eyebrow and gave her husband a sorrowful look. “You remember why, don’t you my Lord Husband? You were displeased that I was fraternizing with the Strong bastards. You said to her that I wasn't serious about state affairs. You told her you couldn't go through with our marriage vows and that I was too...” A tear slid down her cheek as she shook her head. She wanted to avoid any more tears rolling down, so she looked up in an effort to stop them. "You called me Bess just as the others did to show how much of a simpleton I was and you continue doing so! You would've beat me senseless if I'd have called you Monny!"

Aemond let out an exasperated sigh before taking a seat next to Elisabeth on the cold marble floor, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders in comfort and pulling out a handkerchief from underneath his cloak which he tenderly offered for for her to clean herself off with.

“It’s fine,” he said gruffly. “We all make mistakes.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted it towards him so she had to look him in the eye. “I thought you hated me after our marriage ceremony, and I foolishly told my mother about it in a fit of anger.” Despite his words, there was something uncomfortable in the way his gaze held hers.

Elisabeth erupted into desperate sobs, pounding her fists against his chest with each cry. The dried blood that stained her hands flaked off like dust as she grabbed him in despair. "How could you do this to me? We should have talked it through, together! Instead of understanding why I had changed after our marriage, all you ever did was lash out at me and let your mother drive me to the brink of madness - treating me like a stranger and I can barely recognise myself anymore! If I didn't love you so much, I would hate you right now. But even then, my heart still aches for you... Oh gods, Aemond..."

The strain of her confession was too much for her. Elisabeth tipped forward, still gripping onto Aemond’s tunic with her bloody hands, as she lost consciousness in his arms.

Aemond caught her, gently placing her down onto the floor, then stood up and looked around the sept. He felt torn; part of him wanted to believe what his mother said but the other part of him knew it couldn’t be true. He had made a horrible mistake by allowing his pride and anger to drive him to such lengths, and he now he had to face the consequences alone. With a heavy heart, he summoned some guards who helped move Elisabeth’s lifeless body to his chambers where she could rest peacefully and recover from her ordeal.

Aemond was left with an overwhelming feeling that something fundamental in his life had shifted during that conversation in the Sept — not just between himself and Elisabeth but also between himself and his mother — an unspoken understanding that things would never be the same between them ever again. As he walked off in a daze towards his chamber, thoughts of revenge raced through his mind as he planned how best to confront her about it all — but for now, all he could do was hope that Elisabeth would recover quickly enough so they could make sense of everything together.

He was determined to take care of Elisabeth and as he watched her sleeping in his chambers, the rage that had been building up inside him slowly melted away. He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and sighed resignedly — he had no control over what happened next, all he could do now was to care for her. As best as he could, Aemond pulled the blankets over her body to keep her warm and placed a pillow underneath her head for extra comfort. He sat by her side all night, silently willing for herto open her eyes so they could talk this out together, but it seemed like she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

The hours dragged on and his frustration only heightened with every minute that passed until finally Aemond couldn’t take it anymore. He ordered one of the guards to stay with Elisabeth before storming off in an attempt to clear his head. As he walked through the corridors of the castle, images of their conversation in the Sept replayed in his mind but try as he might, Aemond still couldn’t make sense of it all – what did this all mean? Could they ever go back to the way things were before?

Aemond was prepared to take matters into his own hands, he always was. He thought that this evening would end in him seeking a divorce or a mistress at court, arguing with his senseless simpleton of a wife, yet nothing could have prepared him for the confrontation he would have with her. 

Storming up the steps up to her apartments, he quickly shooed away Ser Criston Cole and opened the doors. He followed the light through the Entrance Hall up to her solar, where Alicent sat quietly on a settee, getting her feet rubbed by a lady in waiting. She raised a questioning eyebrow. 

"Whatever's the matter, Aemond? Is Helaena all right? Did Aegon do something?" 

Aemond's nostrils flared with fury as he fought himself to remain silent. How dare no one tell him - Elisabeth's husband - that his own wife had become a shadow of her former self, her mind so clouded with drugs she was practically a ghost? He could feel the rage building in his chest, threatening to escape and take over.

"Milk of the Poppy. Have you lost your damned senses?"

Alicent flinched a bit at his dangerously low, cool tone and sent her lady out. He could not make out her facial expression - it could have been anything from boredom to indifference - which angered him even more. Trying not to act too rashly, he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. 

"Say something! And don't you dare deny it, I know it was you! Maester Rithyr told me everything", he lied effortlessly. He knew he had to - everything else would put Elisabeth in great danger.

Alicent lowered her eyebrow again, donned her slippers and stood up. Her face changed into a caring and hurt one, leaving Aemond a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"Wasn't it you who told me she was cavorting with Jacaerys? Didn't you complain of her disobedience, my dear?"

'So it is my fault now', he thought and took a deep breath, stepping closer to her and grabbing her tightly by the shoulders.

"What I wanted was for you to give her spiritual guidance and help in transitioning into her role as a princess. Why-"

"You cannot turn Mice into dragons, Son. Everyone knows that Bess doesn't fulfil your needs and our doubt will only be confirmed if she continues to be barren."

Alicent interrupted him icily and tore herself from his grip, sitting back down. 

"I have received a raven from Boros Baratheon, he said his daughters had only just flowered. What do you think? Or would you rather prefer Clara Lannister? I could..."

Aemond was taken aback, this conversation had gone way beyond his expectations. How could his own mother suggest such a thing? He knew he had to put an end to it before it was too late.

"Stop right there, Mother", he said sharply interrupting her mid-sentence. "Contrary to popular belief I like Elisabeth a lot and do not wish to take another wife."

He glanced coolly around the chamber and smiled unsettlingly.

"You must forget yourself, dear Mother. Helaena is Queen Consort now so it should be in her responsibility to judge on these issues and you know how much she likes Elisabeth. And besides, if the court would know of your... hysterics, who would continue to take you seriously? You know how your dear father, the Hand, dislikes your moody tendencies."

His words must have struck a chord - Alicent paled significantly and shrunk in her seat, clasping her hands on her lap.

Aemond continued with a calm, yet terrifying tone:"I don't wish for you to continue giving her the drug. I think the milk of poppy may be causing her infertility and I won't let that happen. You barred me from having heirs - who knows what you did with Helaena or you will do with that Lannister girl? It's almost treasonous, you know."

Alicent was desperate and scared, she picked at the skin around her nails to distract herself from what she knew would be a losing battle.

"My son-", her voice was small and trembling. She wanted to argue with him but his implacable gaze made it difficult for her to even look him in the eye. He had always been so strong willed, just like her own father. She had never been able to get through his hard shell of pride and arrogance, no matter how hard she tried.

"I only wish the best for you and our kingdom," she said softly trying to reason with him but he merely scoffed in response.

"Then how can you suggest me taking another wife? It would do more damage than good." His words were cold and final - this conversation was over before it began. Aemond stepped away from her and towards the door, pausing momentarily as he grabbed the handle."Remember our discussion mother", he said sternly before leaving the room without another word.

Aemond stepped out of the chamber, feeling a mix of anger and disappointment. He had hoped that his mother would be able to understand his point of view, but it seemed she was too entrenched in her own ideas about Elisabeth's faults to do so.

He walked down the corridor that led to the castle courtyard, trying to clear his mind of all thoughts. But as he walked, he couldn't help but think about how much he had changed since he had been married with Elisabeth. He had never imagined himself being such a cold and vengeful man, no.

The thought brought a sharp pang of guilt - what if word got out that the heir presumptive to the Iron Throne was considering taking another wife? It could cause widespread scandal and potentially put him at odds with some powerful houses. He shook his head in dismay, knowing that this wasn't an option for him - not now, not ever.

Aemond made his way to the training yard to clear his mind. He picked up a sword and began to practice with it, swinging it in powerful arcs and thrusts as if he were fighting some invisible enemy. His body moved in sync with the blade, becoming increasingly faster until sweat was dripping down his face from the exertion. The familiar movements soothed him - they allowed him to forget about the pressures of court life for a time, giving him respite from all of its trifling problems.

Once he felt sufficiently calm, Aemond returned back to his chambers and changed into some clothes more suited for the upcoming feast. As he finished dressing, he noticed something odd - there was a faint light coming from his bedroom. He rushed over to see what she was doing, hoping that she had woken up again, which she had, indeed.

Elisabeth looked up at Aemond with an anxious expression on her face before hastily turning away from him. "I don't wish to cause trouble," she muttered quietly before standing up and making her way toward the door without another word. "I shall just... retire to my chambers, Lord Husband."

Aemond watched as she stood up, feeling confused and slightly hurt by her actions - why was she so distant? What had happened happened to her?

"Elisabeth?"

He said her name softly, stepping closer to her and taking a gentler tone. He had meant to apologize for his earlier words, but something else came out instead.

"I wanted to thank you, for telling me the truth yesterday. I know it must have been difficult for you. I spoke with my mother and she will never give you milk of the poppy again if she values her life and social standing."

Elisabeth's dark eyes widened as she stared at him in shock. She had completely forgotten the events of the previous day and that Aemond had cared for her after her hallucination - another one of the side effects of the milk. His kind words made the feelings of guilt and confusion wash over her anew, and it was hard not to be taken aback by his unexpected familiarity with her. If she wouldn't have felt that painful yearning in her soul for more of the drug, she would've believed that she was still dreaming.

"L-lord Husband? How...? Why...?"

He smiled, realizing that she must'nt have remembered what had happened yesterday.

"It doesn't matter now," he said kindly. "What matters is that I would like for you to join me at the feast this evening, so people can see how beautiful and intelligent my wife truly is."

Elisabeth gave him a weary look before returning his small smile. She quickly glanced at her reflection in the mirror, before blushing self consciously.

"I give thanks to the Father for leading you to discover the truth... Before we go, can I take a moment to change my clothes?", she questioned quietly, gazing up into his eyes. Once they had filled her with unease but now caused her heart to flutter with a hint of love.

Gently laying a kiss on her forehead, Aemond motioned for one of his loyal servants to come forth. He commanded them to fill the grand bath with steaming hot water and to bring a most exquisite dress for her. "Let me be the one to tend to you my darling. I must have you look as though you are mine," he uttered in a commanding yet affectionate voice.

The servants quickly scurried to do his bidding, bringing forth everything Aemond would need to make Elisabeth beautiful. They filled the bath with fragrant herbs and oils, as well as a variety of soaps and lotions for her to use. They also brought forth an exquisite gown of rich green silk and delicate lace, complete with matching slippers.

Elisabeth silently slipped into the soothing hot bath while Aemond knelt down beside her and began to lovingly bathe her body. He took great care not to scrub too harshly on her bruises and scrapes, something that she had not expected from him. The heat and his gentle touch made her trust him more with every second. "Lord Hus- um, I mean, Aemond, might I ask you soething?"

Aemond squeezed out the sponge in his hand and gently caressed her body. He truly missed out on all of this due to his anger against the Blackss, he noted grimly in his mind and gently started brushing her long, dark hair.

"You may speak freely, Elisabeth."

Elisabeth flushed and hastily sought to conceal the exposed parts of her body, aghast at being presented thus before her husband. "I had been given milk of Poppy yesterday, which has stripped my memory," she ventured nervously, attempting to tread carefully knowing full well his notorious temper. She hoped that whatever grievances between them had subsided in his mind and uttered in an almost meek voice, "Could you tell me what happened? I..."

"Elisabeth, you do not need to be so shy and meek around me," Aemond said soothingly. "I know that is not your true temperament. I will try to reign in my anger more if it makes you feel better." Reaching for a cloth, he dried her body before helping her out of the tub and into the dress they had brought for her. As he arranged it around her frame, Aemond thought about what he should tell herknowing that avoiding certain topics would not help them move forward any better. He gathered his thoughts before finally speaking gently yet firmly.

"I do think it's best for us both if I... do not recapitulate everything, my darling." He tied the ribbons at the back of her dress and gently guided her to a seat, giving her a few pins and such so that she could arrange her hair. His member twitched slightly as he thought back to her, naked on the marble floor, her lips flush against his skin. "You hallucinated something about The Stranger, ran around the Red Keep and then you confessed to being drugged by my mother. We then reached an understanding and I carried you here," he said matter-of-factly, trying his hardest to banish the thought of her full, naked figure from his mind.

Feeling a little flustered, Elisabeth swiftly pulled her hair into a loose bun on her head, letting one or two strands flutter down onto her chest. “Oh, I'm sorry to hear I subjected you through this, I thank you for listening to me and for forgiving me," she said softly. After finishing her hairdo, she stood up and bowed towards Aemond. “Thank you, my Prince, for everything. Shall we go and have dinner?”

When the doors to the Hall opened, a hush fell over the crowd and all that remained was an eerie stillness. With an air of grandeur, Prince Aemond Targaryen strode in, his purple eye sweeping the room like a hawk, the other hidden behind his leather eyepatch. But what shocked the court even more was who he had with him. Princess Elisabeth Lonmouth walked tall and proud beside her husband, having not been seen much since their marriage six months ago. She appeared almost otherworldly with her petite stature and unusual looks, her dark hair waving languidly as a gentle breeze wafted into the Hall. Her chin was raised high and there was no hint of submission or fear in her presence.

The star of Aemond Targaryen had risen again - ready to face the Dance of the Dragons with Elisabeth by his side.

[dartlekey]

Don't look back (COMPLETED)

Author: @dartlekey

Artist: @the-chilly-kat

Word Count: 92,792

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Minor or Background Relationship(s): Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Dmitri Antonov/Murray Bauman, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson & Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Sam Owens (Stranger Things), Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Murray Bauman, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Original Characters (for a little extra flavor)

Additional Tags: post s4/alternative s5, Vecna is dead but the apocalypse is very much alive, Vampire Steve Harrington, Vampire Turning, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood Drinking, Codependency, Dom/sub, retroactively negotiated kink, dubcon, nonsexual bdsm, but also sexual bdsm, Dom Eddie Munson, Sub Steve Harrington, Switch Eddie Munson, Switch Steve Harrington, Blowjobs, Rimming, Choking, Anal Sex, individual chapter warnings, Ambiguous/Open Ending, mixed ending

Collections: Steddie Bigbang 2023 -> @steddiebang

Summary:

When Eddie Munson wakes from a month-long coma, the apocalypse has already started without him. The air is poisonous and monsters roam the streets of a half-destroyed Hawkins, but he's also got problems of a more personal nature: For one thing, Eddie's so weak he can barely walk on his own, and he's pretty sure there's something wrong with him, like, emotionally. For another, there's the fact that Steve Harrington has begun turning into some kind of vampiric Upside Down creature. Also, he's into men apparently, and more specifically: into Eddie. So there's that. The way Eddie sees it, that leaves him with three problems to solve - one, saving the world, ergo destroying the Demobats' nest in the Rightside Up, and closing the cross of rifts splitting the town. Two, saving his friends, so waking Max from her coma, and guiding Steve (read: domming Steve) into figuring out his new vampiric powers without hurting anyone, or getting his head blown off by their very trigger-happy "allies". And three: figuring out what it really means to care for someone, and how far he's willing to go for the man he's rapidly becoming unhealthily obsessed with. Here's to turning into the monsters people always said they were.

[moorishflower]

Us and the Moon (Dream/Hob, werewolf AU, 30k, COMPLETE)

Us and the Moon || Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || 30k || Explicit

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Werewolves, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus has PTSD, POV Hob Gadling, Story within a Story, Child Death, Minor Eleanor | Hob Gadling's Wife/Hob Gadling, PiningCanon-Typical Angst, Happy Ending, Historical References, Canon Retelling, Drowning, References to the Slave Trade, Confessions, Traumatized Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Scent Kink, Anal Fingering

Somehow, it always feels like Hob is meeting his oldest friend around the night of the full moon. It's been six centuries since Hob got the bite that turned him into a werewolf, and in all that time he's somehow managed to dance around telling Dream the truth. Tonight, though, he's determined to have out with it. The whole story, finally laid on the table…minus, of course, the part where he's been in love with Dream since at least the 1400s. No, that part can stay safely locked up for the rest of eternity as far as he's concerned. He's only just gotten Dream back into his life, and he doesn't dare ruin it any more than he already did in 1889. The werewolf thing, though, that's easy.

Read it on AO3 here! Here's the whole thing, all 7 chapters!

Thanks to the mods at @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang for all their hard work, my awesome artist @wolfgirl-valentine, and @dsudis for the beta! Please go check out the art by Wolffie here, here, and here, it's AMAZING and beautiful and so much effort went into each piece <3

[eldritch-thrumming]

our bigbang fic is finally here!

all of me changed like midnight. | M | 25k

Author: antithetical-dream-girl Artist: @hellfiredemon Artist: @steves-strapcollection

In the fall of 1986, Eddie invites Steve and Robin to one of his shows at the Hideout. Steve is mesmerized by Eddie's performance, captivated by the way Eddie's hands move up and down his guitar, by the way Eddie's measured breaths deliver a strong and confident lyrical performance. When Steve compliments Eddie after the show, Eddie offers to teach Steve to play the guitar. Steve is completely taken by the whole project and a romance blooms, tender and soft, as they begin to speak through the music they play for each other.

Shortly after Steve confesses his love for Eddie, Eddie flees Hawkins, determined to live out his dreams as a rockstar and convinced that's not what Steve wants for himself. Steve and Robin move to Indy, where they begin playing open mics at the coffeeshop Steve works at. Steve finds that songwriting is the perfect way to give voice to his feelings of grief, love, and abandonment.

The fic spans ten years as Steve and Eddie weave their way in and out of each other's lives, writing songs that can only be meant for each other.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson Tags: friends to lovers, exes to lovers, pining, mutual pining, non-linear narrative, friends with benefits, slowburn, temporarily unrequited love, the love is requited it just takes them a minute, musician steve harrington, musician robin buckley, famous eddie munson, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, rockstar eddie munson, gay eddie munson, bisexual steve harrington, stobin as a musical duo, singer-songwriter steve harrington, angst with a happy ending, lots of music talk from a non-musician, pov steve harrington, pov eddie munson, pov alternating, steve harrington & robin buckley are best friends, stobin as boygenius, inspired by a boygenius song, inspired by a taylor swift song

You can read the first chapter here on AO3 :)

with art from @hellfiredemon here!!

and a playlist from @steves-strapcollection coming soon.

there is also an author playlist here that includes songs both referenced and alluded to in the fic, as well as songs that inspired moments throughout the story :)