#robin gadling

[euzede]

(part 1)

"HeLLo HoBsIE."

"... Robin?"

"YeAh, y0U'vE bEeN CalLing mE tHaT... bUt tHaT's NoT mY NAmE. IF YoU wAnt, i CaN sHoW H1m to ¥oU..."

"N-no. Please, Del."

"SorRy."

"Is Dream here? Can I see him?"

"i SuPpOsE yOU c0uLd. YoU WOuLd. buT DReAm iS. aNGrY. fURIoUs. SaD. WoRr13D. sC4rEd."

[windsweptinred]

@mxcat777 holy wow! ���� This is amazing!

What if AU... What if the Corinthian was Robin Gadling?

Dream, inspired and empathetic of Hob Gadlings plight following 1689, desires to watch over the young soul of Robin Gadling. Thus he seeks out his Sister, to request he be given into Dream's care as a raven. But Robin never took his sisters hand. He lingers on in the Waking world, an angry spectre. Vengeful, blind from where Thomas Shelply slashed his eyes. Desperately calling for his Father's aid and comfort.

So Dream salvages what he can. Uses that dark energy to fashion a nightmare. A dark mirror of the human that once was. Full of the Gadling lust for life, but violent, hedonistic... Constantly wanting.

The Corinthian serves Dream faithfully beacuse it is what his father would wish. Becomes the pinnacle of Dream's Nightmares because it is the Dream Lord and his Sister who prolong his father's life. Existing on the promise that one day he will be allowed to reunite with his father in the Waking. Until 1889.... When Dream cruelly severs himself from the one thing that keeps the Corinthian truly loyal to him...Hob Gadling.

From that moment on, his thoughts turn to vengeance for his father's heartbreak. Insuring his freedom to return to permanently to the Waking world, to watch over his Father

[cccloudsss]

i do not believe in a joy as real as it being a horrible hour to still be awake, getting into a new fresh fandom (as in you've just gotten into fandoms in general, i've known these books and shows for years) and mentally thrashing against the bars of your cage looking at the posts for it.

i feel like a school girl kicking her feet over some new person she's obsessed with. who needs love when u have snowbaz, or firstprince, or aziracrow, or the unofficial fandom ships for the last binding series, or dreamling??????

(and also grell) (currently watching book of circus and i'm gnawing on the bars of my enclosure)

(oh god there's so many tags)

remember guys... you are cringe and free. the cage is a figment of your imagination!!

[quecksilvereyes]

songbird.

Sir Robert Gadlen is a brute and a cheat, and you have, in common tongue and common mouth, always been too beautiful by half to be his son. His hands are calloused where they hold you, and his hair is ever coarse. There is laughter in his throat most days, too loud and too sharp to be anything but a dog's bark, and his table is never clean.

Fine damask, finer silk, golden thread and silvered claws, a dog is still a dog no matter how you dress it. The teeth will not be filed, not by sugar nor decadene or courtly love. The muscle will not melt, not in heat nor years or little boys with scraped knees and hands made of cashmere. The claws do not dull, and the fur, groomed on iron-soaked fields and steel shavings, does not change its colour.

It is still brown, shorter by the throat than is fashionable, longer by the hind limbs than is decent, a coat made for scrapping. A dog, says the girl with the dark eyes and the pearl-stitched cap who once made of her palms an offering for your mouth to drink from. A mutt, says the steward, when your mother has retired and your father has taken the bow from the wall, hands twitching.

Mouth laughing.

Too much money, says one of the kitchen girls, red-aproned; red-mouthed, not enough sense. Her eyes are bright things, and her freckles stretch from the bloom of her forehead to the spread of her shoulders. Red-dotted, red-chested.

Your teeth are dull. Your hair is fine and soft with oils, the roof of your mouth is glutted on sugar. In the turning of your hands lies a childhood cushioned with care, and in the curling of your mouth lies a bird's song. In the flush of your skin lies your mother's legacy - a splotched blush, a spread of moles.

Little bird, says your father, his mouth pressed to the crown of your head. Little bird, flap your wings. His beard is wiry - sharp - and his voice is rough. His hands, callouses and all, are soft, soft things. Close your eyes. Laugh with him.

-

Lady Eleanor Gadlen is a marvel and a beauty, and you have, in truth and sleepless nights, always been too hot-headed to be her son. The parlour is never locked, no guest is turned away. There is ever ale in the pantry and soup on the stoves, and when asked for hospitality, the lady laughs and offers. She is, by grace of her husband, gold-capped and finely embroidered, cherished and warmed by the hearth lit in the dog's maw. She is, in spite of her husband, a noble thing, swan-delicate and fair as the first spring day of a cold year.

In the evenings, she curls into the roughness of Sir Gadlen like a homecoming, and drinks from his mouth his ever-present laughter. Hob, she says. Dearling. Into the undoing of her cap and the spill of the fine hair you both share, she does not flinch from claws or rough palms.

When she has warmed herself by the fire until the heat drips from her fingertips, she runs them through your curls. You rest your head against her chest, the beat of her steadfast heart. One-and-two.

Too good for him, says the girl, and the pearls drop from her cap into your parched mouth. When she smiles, they dissolve on your lips. A shame, says the steward into the frantic rush of the working kitchen, when your mother has donned her good riding boots in pursuit of your restless, chainless father.

She could have had her pick, says the courtier whose name is the same as the five men who have come to lament before him. Well-bred, and comely as she is, she might have had something pedigreed, instead. Your knuckles are wet and swollen by morning, and the courtier's throat is thick with bites only dull teeth can press into pompous skin.

The Lady Eleanor's smile is dimpled at the edges, and her hands are fine-boned and soft in the way of a woman who has never known labour. When she takes her dog to church, she talks with the parish after the service has ended, swaying skirts and sunlit eyes. Gifts smiles as easy as bread. Sir Gadlen lets her.

Lets her write and hunt and pick. Lets her collar and leash him. Laughing mouth, crow's feet around his eyes.

Your chest is bruised. Your lip is split. Your dull teeth have long since learned how to mine for copper in the depths of gossipping mouths. Your nails are short and bend where they grow, but your fingers are strong and your tongue is vicious.

Little songbird, says your mother, red-chested and crowing, will you sing a song of loving?

-

Come on. Open your beak and sweetly sing. With your ribs in bloom and your mother's soft hands wrapped around a dagger's end, with your father's brutishness in a sick boy's throat:

The wooden planks underneath you have had their fill of your blood. Soon, they will swell beyond a nail's grasp and leave stumbling blocks in their wake. The boy between your teeth makes a sound as a wounded, rabid thing does when it is trapped - thin wire and white-foamed mouth.

Let me go, he says. Let me up.

His hands are soft where they touch yours, trembling knuckles and sharp, sick steel. Your palms are all torn by now and every breath is a rattle. Drag him down, little songbird, and drink the foam from his lips. His mouth is a flood of ale and bile. His skin is cracked with salt.

Is this not a homecoming?

[fandom]

Ships

Unexpected connections happen in two places: the Ships list and Feeld—a dating app for the curious. On Feeld, finding like-minded people is as fulfilling as finding yourself. In celebration of ships, here are this year’s iconic connections.

Ineffable Husbands +17 Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Steddie Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things

Destiel Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Byler -3 Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things

Wenclair Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday

Bowuigi Bowser & Luigi, the Super Mario Bros. franchise

Huntlow +7 Hunter & Willow Park, The Owl House

Avatrice Ava Silva & Beatrice, Warrior Nun

Hannigram +2 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Buddie -4 Evan Buckley & Edmundo Diaz, 9-1-1

Vashwood Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun Stampede

Zelink +80 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda

Lumity -6 Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Ghostsoap Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise

Blackbonnet -11 Edward Teach/Blackbeard & Stede Bonnet, Our Flag Means Death

Wolfstar +8 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Merthur +12 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Jegulus +25 James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe

Bumbleby +48 Yang Xiao Long & Blake Belladonna, RWBY

Bakudeku -4 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku no Hero Academia

Dreamling -1 Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, The Sandman

Soukoku +60 Nakahara Chuuya & Dazai Osamu, Bungou Stray Dogs

Firstprince Alex Claremont-Diaz & Prince Henry of Wales, Red, White & Royal Blue

Wesper Wylan Van Eck & Jesper Fahey, the Grishaverse

Wangxian -8 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi

Satosugu +23 Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru, Jujutsu Kaisen

Imodna +8 Imogen Temult & Laudna, Critical Role

Kanej +44 Kaz Brekker & Inej Ghafa, the Grishaverse

Bubbline Princess Bubblegum & Marceline, Adventure Time

Ladynoir -17 Ladybug & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Twiyor +6 Loid Forger & Yor Forger, SPY x FAMILY

Loustat +43 Louis de Pointe du Lac & Lestat de Lioncourt, Interview with the Vampire

Zosan Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, One Piece

Marichat -12 Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Serirei +65 Serizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka, Mob Psycho 100

Adrienette -21 Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Chenford +24 Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford, The Rookie

Petrigrof Simon Petrikov & Betty Grof, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Kavetham Kaveh & Alhaitham, Genshin Impact

Griddlehark +54 Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, The Locked Tomb series

Raeda -13 Raine Whispers & Eda Clawthorne, The Owl House

Tomgreg -19 Tom Wambsgans & Greg Hirsch, Succession

Hanamusa Jessie & Delia Ketchum, the Pokémon franchise

Zolu Roronoa Zoro & Monkey D. Luffy, One Piece

Narumitsu -12 Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Sonadow +23 Sonic & Shadow, Sonic the Hedgehog

Ineffable Bureaucracy Archangel Gabriel & Beelzebub, Good Omens

Spirk +9 Spock & James Kirk, Star Trek

Ballister x Ambrosius Ballister Boldheart & Ambrosius Goldenloin, Nimona

Nandermo -42 Nandor the Relentless & Guillermo de la Cruz, What We Do in the Shadows

Jonmartin -15 Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives

Punkflower Hobie Brown & Miles Morales, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

AkiAngel Aki Hayakawa & the Angel Devil, Chainsaw Man

Ronance -49 Robin Buckley & Nancy Wheeler, Stranger Things

Superbat -11 Superman & Batman, the DC universe

Shuake Ren Amamiya/Joker & Goro Akechi, Persona 5

Geraskier -48 Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier, The Witcher

Hualian -18 Hua Cheng & Xie Lian, Tian Guan Ci Fu

Sulemio Suletta Mercury & Miorine Rembran, Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Sterek -5 Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale, Teen Wolf

Gumlee Prince Gumball & Marshall Lee, Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Shadowpeach Sun Wukong & the Six-Eared Macaque, Lego Monkie Kid

Drarry -29 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe

Wilmon Prince Wilhelm & Simon Eriksson, Young Royals

Harringrove -34 Steve Harrington & Billy Hargrove, Stranger Things

Kazurei Suwa Rei & Kurusu Kazuki, Buddy Daddies

Lestappen Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen, Formula 1 drivers

Zukka -5 Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Codywan +8 Commander Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Solangelo -23 Will Solace & Nico di Angelo, the Percy Jackson universe

Catradora Catra & Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Shadowgast -4 Caleb Widogast & Essek Thelyss, Critical Role

Stucky -43 Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, the Marvel universe

Tarlos -18 TK Strand & Carlos Reyes, 9-1-1: Lone Star

Johnlock +21 John Watson & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock

Sasunaru -24 Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto

Locklyle Anthony Lockwood & Lucy Carlyle, Lockwood & Co.

Lokius Loki Laufeyson & Mobius M. Mobius, the Marvel universe

Supercorp -67 Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Supergirl

Piltover's Finest Caitlyn Kiramman & Vi, Arcane

Helnik Matthias Helvar & Nina Zenik, the Grishaverse

Prohibitedwish Scarab & Prismo, Adventure Time

Klance -12 Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender

Reylo Rey & Kylo Ren, the Star Wars universe

Hanazawa Teruki & Kageyama Shigeo, Mob Psycho 100

Cockles -44 Misha Collins & Jensen Ackles, Actors

Percabeth -46 Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, the Percy Jackson universe

Astarion x Tav Astarion & Tav, Baldur's Gate 3

Timkon Tim Drake & Conner Kent, Young Justice

Davekat Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Homestuck

Cynonari Cyno & Tighnari, Genshin Impact

Creek Craig Tucker & Tweek Tweak, South Park

Klapollo Apollo Justice & Klavier Gavin, Ace Attorney

Style Stan Marsh & Kyle Brovlofski, South Park

Korrasami -11 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra

Bill x Frank Bill & Frank, The Last of Us

Nick x Charlie -51 Nick Nelson & Charlie Spring, Heartstopper

Dreamnotfound -50 Dreamwastaken & GeorgeNotFound, Streamers

Dinluke -33 Din Djarin & Luke Skywalker, the Star Wars universe

Rhaenicent Rhaenyra Targaryen & Alicent Hightower, House of the Dragon

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last year. Explore your desires on Feeld. Within a safer, inclusive space, you can feel free to connect more intimately to yourself and others. Choose from over 20 gender and sexuality options and explore solo, or with a partner. Curious? Download the app today.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream has been hearing rumors (those biddies love to gossip about Dream's family) that Orpheus has gotten into an inappropriate relationship. Something, something "sugar baby", something, something f*cking an older man.

Dream doesn't want to interfere in Orpheus's life, but the Endless family, and Dream himself, have money, not as much as in their storied past, but enough that Orpheus doesn't have to whore out his young ass for money.

Dream isn't even judging, he just want his son not to make mistakes similar to the ones that Dream made in his youth. Dream knows how seductive those older men can be....hell Dream is still young himself (not a twink anymore certainly, but Dream had Orpheus young, so he doesn't look like the father of a college student.).

Suffice to say, Dream learns the name of the man supposedly paying for Orpheus's ass and goes to see him, maybe he can warn him off Orpheus. R. Gadling has something like 10 or 15 years on Dream, hopefully Dream can get him to see reason.

💶 💶 💶 💶 💶

Hob would have liked it to be known, if he was interested in talking to those judgmental society b*tches, that he does not need to pay a young man for sex. Thank you very much. He might like to take care of his lovers, but so far he draws the line at 30-year age differences. He is not that much of a creeper.

Orpheus is a fantastic young man, a musical prodigy, and Hob knows some people in the industry. All he did was offer introductions, that Orpheus, with his gift, would have most likely developed on his own, in time. He is not sleeping with a boy young enough to be his son,,,his son Robin introduced them for goodness sake!

When Orpheus's father comes to Hob is high dungeon, judgingly talking about inappropriate relationships and all but screaming at Hob, in his beautiful deep voice, for Hob to stop sleeping with his son -- Hob might have fallen in love on the spot. Blush high on his cheeks, hair a mess, looking like he just woke up from a good f*ck, Hob wanted to bite.

And mess with him a little,,,,,Hob offered (jokingly he thought) to stop sleeping with Orpheus if his father took his place in Hob's bed. He was expecting more yelling, not Morpheus Endless to say yes on the spot.

Oh Dream...... you poor little horny idiot. Trying so hard to be the best dad, but Orpheus is cringing SO hard.

Hob really was joking about exchanging Orpheus for Morpheus, and then Dream goes ahead and looks so sincere and so sexy... but Hob isn't a bad person (not anymore) so he sighs and explains that it was a joke. He's not fucking anyone right now, especially not Dream’s kid. He is in fact in the middle of a very long dry spell, and yes he might be going into too much detail now but at least Morpheus looks like he believes him. He sighs and smoothes down his hair and Hob is almost disappointed to see that anger fade away. Morpheus does at least blush prettily and say "call me Dream", so that's. A nice development.

And then Dream asks if Hob was joking about wanting to sleep with him, and if he thinks that Dream is too old to be a sugarbaby? Because he'd actually be willing to give it a try... And he says it in this teasing, flirty way that goes right to Hob’s dick. He's desperately hoping that his dryspell might finally be over. But he's going to have to pull out all the stops and really woo this delicious man.

Before Dream knows it, he's being whisked off to Hob’s box at the opera for a night of champagne and beautiful music. Hob explains that he doesn't take just anyone up to his box - only pretty boys that he really wants to spoil. Dream nearly melts into a puddle over being called a "boy". And yes, he's still relieved when Hob confirms that he never took Orpheus for a night at the opera.

Apparently Dream’s penchant for older guys really hasn't faded away, because he's getting butterflies whenever Hob puts a hand on his back to guide him, or orders their drinks with polite authority. If Orpheus was fucking Hob, then Dream would absolutely be fighting his own son tooth and nail over this man. Dream is embarrassed by his own horniness but not enough to stop - maybe he's doesn't actually need a sugar daddy, but he sure as hell WANTS this one <3

[aralezinspace]

~~Read It Here~~

Rated T || word counts at the beginning of each chapter

In merry England in the time of old, when good King Henry the Second ruled the land, there lived within the green glades of Sherwood Forest, near Nottingham Town, a famous outlaw whose name was Robin Hood. Or: Adaptations of various ballads and tales where Hob Gadling is the outlaw known as Robin Hood.

Oo-de-lally! Behold my submission for the @endlesshistoriesfest I really enjoyed writing this; a Hob Robin Hood AU has been on my mind for a while. It’s technically complete since each ballad/tale can stand on its own, but I may add more adapted tales in the future. Enjoy!

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Halloween Fic Recs

This is last minute, so have a very quick multifandom fic rec list. Not all of them are necessarily scary, some are more vibes.

Stranger Things

In a Mirrored Room, Talking to Myself by entanglednow | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin crew (plus Chrissy) are ghost hunters Steve hires to investigate his extremely cursed house. Genuinely scary.

Heal Your Shrinking Soul by help_me_no | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Steve signs up to nanny a pack of children for a mysterious guy in his remote haunted mansion. Interesting mix of wholesome and creepy details with The Haunting of Bly Manor vibes.

Curse of Strahd by infrared phaeton | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Steve and Robin are kidnapped by the kids for their demonic cult leader, Eddie Munson. Unsettling.

Dead Boy Detectives

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

The boys bargain their way out of Hell by promising to capture a ghost-eating entity called the Deathless. Exciting case and some choice horror moments.

Lemonade and Sunrises by paraph | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

A Quiet Place AU. Not sure if this has the right Halloween vibe, but it deserves more love so I included it for the monsters.

Dance the Night by Gruoch | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

The agency are on the trail of some kind of vampire... The later chapters really bring the horror tropes (undead, slasher, haunted house). Very effective.

Captain America

Unquiet by Dira Sudis (dsudis) | Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Recovering post-Winter Soldier Bucky is being haunted. Or is he? Menacing.

If the Apocalpyse comes, text me by Relenafanel | Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Bucky the Vampire Slayer AU. Fun, funny fandom classic.

Sherlock

They Mostly Come Out At Night by Tawabids | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Alien AU! Sherlock was abandoned on a space station as a baby and John is reluctantly roped in to retrieving him. Space AU with xenomorphs bringing the horror.

You and Me and the Moon by trickybonmot | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Werewolf!Sherlock AU. After being bitten on a case, Sherlock must adapt to his new condition. Not really scary, but the lycanthropy has kind of old-school Hollywood vibes.

Return to Dunwich by entanglednow | Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Sherlock and John investigate the town where Sherlock mutated. Sherlock got tentacles in the previous fic, but I loved the extremely creepy town and its inhabitants in this one. Body horror and Lovecraftian monsters in both.

The Sandman

Radio Silence by Moorishflower | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Human/The Last of Us AU! Dream is an apocalpyse survivor tracking a distress signal to a besieged library. He also might be insane/in love. Intense.

Teen Wolf

A Wildness Warily Awakened by Etharei | Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Derek and his team of space marines are on a mission on a zombie infested planet. Exciting.

9/10ths of the Law by tsukinofaerii | Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Always-A-Demon Stiles AU! Surprisingly emotional and crosses over with Supernatural.

[roguelov]

Dearest Depraved and Wicked Ones,

Come, please, gather around my fire and allow me such the honor to take you on a journey full of your finest and most lewd fantasies. Unfortunately to start, I need a hand. Please tell me your most sinful desires so I can fulfill them. Now, do we have a deal? Take my hand, there is no catch I promise. No? Still weary, I understand. Perhaps, we shall discuss some rules and boundaries so to speak:

My stories are wicked and vile, true, but they will be short. I have many customers to attend to

I have a list tacked on the wall in the back telling all the juicy kinks and tropes I allow in my home, do pick one or a few from the list. If you do not see a kink or trope you may ask about it but do know I have the right to refuse

I have curated a taste for certain characters which are also listed. Do pick one of them, however, if one character is not on the list you may suggest someone I may be persuaded

And finally I urge patience. I have a full schedule, but do enjoy your stay while I’m temporarily away

If you follow these rules and provide some context, I will be happy to provide. So? Do we have a deal?

I see you agreed to our terms, excellent. Now, take your time perusing my list, I do hope you find one to spark your wildest imaginations

Kinks and Tropes:

My current fandoms and fixations:

The Sandman

Morpheus

Hob Gadling

Calliope

Corinthian

Death

Desire

Lucifer

Lucienne

Johanna Constantine

One piece (both live action and anime)

Trafalgar Law

Donxiquote Rosinante/ Corazon

Roronoa Zoro

Vinsmoke Sanji

Portgas D Ace

Sabo

Red Haired Shanks

Nico Robin

Dracule Mihawk

Silvers Rayleigh

Smoker

Rob Lucci

Crocodile

[theshipwars]

[Image Descripition: A competition banner showing Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling, from the Netflix original series The Sandman , versus Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler, from the Netflix original series Stranger Things. End ID.]

[mid0khan]

Last Line Tag Game

I've been tagged by @samsalami66 and I'll take advantage of it to post a snippet of the Dream/Denial fic I have been working on for half a year now (already !). Thanks for the tag btw ^^

I hesitated to post a piece of the ninth chapter, because I'm really proud of it, but the game say last line, and I have started writing chapter 10, so have what I've done for it so far !

Hob looked up from the printing press, offering an apologetic smile to the nun who had interrupted his work. “I am sory, Suster, we ne sellen the Twilight bokes her, oonly the Bible!” He wiped his ink-stained hands on his richly embroidered coat as the nun berated him for the unfaithful books he was making when a familiar presence made him shiver. “Morpheus?” he called, looking around for his friend. But the lordly being was nowhere to be found. Hob shrugged, apologising to the irate Sister who was now sermonising at him about respecting his elders. He would have been really surprised if Morpheus had visited him here. … But where was here, exactly? The weirdness of the situation suddenly dawned on him. He looked around, noting all the incoherences of the place. He was working on one of Billy Caxton first printing presses, dressed in a mockery of the coat he had worn to Robin’s christening. The shop was a mix of his room when he had lived in Paris in the 1920s and his current office at the university he was teaching at, with the unfinished paintings on the walls and a bi flag in his “best teacher” mug on a desk. The place was filled to the brim with shelves sagging under the weight of thousands of copies of the Bible with a wonky Jesus drawn on the cover. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” he asked the nun, who stopped moving like an automaton running out of battery. The whole scenery started dissolving as Hob ran around the shop, desperately calling for Morpheus even though he knew the Endless was already gone. He couldn’t feel the tell-tale buzz of his presence anymore. The dream disappeared, revealing the closed doors of the Dreaming’s castle. Hob groaned in frustration and disappointment. He looked up to greet the griffin and startled when three pair of eyes met his. “Welcome back, Dreamer!” the griffin saluted him enthusiastically. “As you can see, my companions in duty came back since we last met.” “Hi guys,” Hob waved awkwardly. The hippogriff and the wyvern resting next to the griffin nodded in acknowledgement. “Am I still banned from the castle or can I go in this time?” “I am afraid you are still banned from entering, Robert Gadling,” the hippogriff neighed. “But the Royal Librarian expressed the desire to be informed of your next visit.” With its long, whip-like tail, the wyvern gave a heavy crystal ball to Hob, who looked at it quizzically. "To talk with someone, call their name,” the reptile explained. “The crystal will do the rest.” Hob stared into the iridescent reflections of the sphere with a newfound interest. If he called for Morpheus, could he talk to him? Could he really reach him so easily? His tongue itched with his friend’s name, but Hob forced himself to swallow it back. It would only scare Morpheus further, and rightfully so. It would be intrusive and a terrible breach of trust. No. No matter how much Hob craved to talk to his friend and make things right, he couldn’t force it. He had to let Morpheus come to him when he was ready. He could wait. Hob was good at waiting. He cleared his throat. “Loosh, are you there?” he asked the crystal ball.

Tagging @the-apocrypha , @embroiderling and @avelera , no pressure to participate of course !

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Nuit de l'Écriture - 27/07/2024

by UldAses 1 heure, 1 thème. De 20h jusqu'à 8h du matin (si Morphée nous laisse tranquille) Words: 1514, Chapters: 6/?, Language: Français Fandoms: Batman (Movies 1989-1997), Batman & Robin (1997), Batman - All Media Types, The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman | All Media Types, Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Dead Boy Detectives | All Media Types, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens | All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Wilson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Daniel Hall, Jed Walker, OMC, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU), Night Nurse (DCU), Crystal Palace (DCU), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, OFC Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Barbara Wilson, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Daniel Hall & Jed Walker, Jed Walker/OC, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Family, Awkward Flirting, Power Swap, Angel Wings, Conspiracy, Smell Loss via https://ift.tt/PIfhdDM

[ladykailitha]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

I was tagged by @strangersteddierthings appreciate the tag!! :D I never get tag in these things. I’m so excited!!!

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recently published ao3 stories (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics)

I’ll Be Your Knight - [Ao3] -Steddie

Eddie always had trouble sleeping even before the whole shit with the evil wizard and almost getting eaten alive. But it was worse now. Now that he had nightmares to go with the anxiety and insomnia. Which was why he was awake at three fucking o'clock in the morning. He stared up at the ceiling wishing for sleep or oblivion... when he heard it.

The Promise - [Ao3] - Steddie

Eddie wandered around Steve's bedroom as Steve went to answer the phone. He wasn't surprised to see that the room held little personality. Not because Steve was a blank slate by any means. No, it was more that judging from what Eddie knew about Steve's parents and the way they forced conformity on him.

Thirteen - [Ao3] - Steddie

Steve looked up at the three of them from his couch. Nancy to the right, Robin to the left and Eddie standing in front of him, all looking worried.

Love’s Labor - [Ao3] - Dreamling

Hob tried to live as though he was going about his life as normal. Tried to act as he had for hundreds of years. Tried to pretend his best friend wasn't in actual Hell.

Target - [Ao3] - Steddie

"Have you ever loved someone so much that they light up the room?" Steve asked. "That when they aren't there it's like a hole in your chest? That your place in their lives is the most important thing in the world?"

Fractionalization - [Ao3] -Johnlock

Sherlock awoke first, not really needing the same amount of sleep that John seemed to require to stay upright. He rolled over and looked at John. It was such a strange thing. Of all the outcomes of watching the man he loved be flirted with so aggressively, the last thing he would have expected is waking up next to him the following morning. But here he was.

And Gives You Endless Support - [Ao3] - Sebastian/Rory

Sebastian twittered nervously at the door to the theater. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was going to star in his first production where he wasn't the understudy. The role of Jules was all his. Now if he only had courage to walk through that door and actually take it.

Green-Eye Monster [AO3]- Pre-Dreamling

Hob waved goodbye to his friends. They waved back, drunkenly cheering as the staggered down the street.

Friends in Low Places [AO3] - Pre-Dreamling

Johanna looked around the pub. It was certainly not as upscale as she thought Morpheus would want to frequent, but it had its charm, she had to admit. She really needed Morpheus's help and this was her last ditch effort to find him.

These Hallowed Halls [AO3]- Dreamling

The auditorium was packed as always. Professor Robert Gadling stood behind a wooden podium with a large white screen behind him.

Plus one! Because I thought this one was ten but it turned out to be eleven. Oops!

Beauty and the Beast [AO3]- Ineffable Husbands

Crowley stood on the balcony of the stately house. It must have been beautiful in its prime, but had long since fallen into disrepair. The only thing that was kept in peak condition was the greenhouse that held the most beautiful white roses. 

So...yeah, can you tell I have ADHD? Hopping from fandom to fandom like a rabbit on crack. I do have like ten other Stranger Things fics that I need to get to my beta so I can put them up on AO3. But at least this gives you a good smattering of my work.

I tag... @oldpinghai This aught to be fun. ;)

[polvillodecanela]

HEY

Please imagine this:

Robert (hob) Gadling, 12 century peasant, maybe was the real robin hood, Shakespeare hater, actual inmortal.

Merlin (emrys) Hunithson, actual mythological figure, friend of King Arthur. Ancient power and inmortal as well.

They are both faking their deaths so they can go to this in-the-middle-of-nowhere town and start with their bussiness when they met. They bond over things like "yeah, aristocracy is bollocks" and "I'm in love with this prick and he deserted me and idk if I'll ever see him again". They became friends.

Dream also monitors Arthur's sleep. Just saying.

[fanoftheimagines]

Fandom Navigation Page 4

Last Updated: 1/28/25

S

Back to Main Navigation Page

The Sandman

Dreamling

Morpheus

Death of the Endless

The Corinthian

Lucienne

Johanna Constantine

Hob Gadling

Calliope

Sense8

Riley Blue

Will Gorski

Sun Bak

Nomi Marks

Kala Dandekar

Wolfgang Bogdanow

Lito Rodriguez

Capheus Onyango

Amanita Caplan

Felix Berner

Jonas Maliki

Shadow and Bone | OLD

Malina

Wesper

Kanej

Alina Starkov

Malyen Oretsev

Zoya Nazyalensky

Nikolai Lantsov

Tolya Yul-Bataar

Tamar Kir-Bataar

Kaz Brekker

Inej Ghafa

Jesper Fahey

Wylan Van Eck

Nina Zenik

Matthias Helvar

Shang-Chi | OLD

Xu Shang-Chi

Xu Xialing

Silo

Juliette Nichols

George Wilkins

Spiderman | OLD

TM!Peter Parker

TASM!Peter Parker

MCU!Peter Parker | OLD

Ned Leeds

MJ

Stardew Valley

Shane

Sebastian

Sam

Elliott

Harvey

Star Trek (2009-2016)

Leonard “Bones” McCoy

Pavel Chekov

Montgomery “Scotty” Scott

Star Wars | OLD

Leia Organa

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Chewbacca

Stormpilot

Rey

Finn

Poe Dameron

Rose Tico

Stranger Things | OLD

Steddie

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Eddie Munson

Dustin Henderson

Will Byers

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Max Mayfield

El Hopper

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Argyle

Joyce Byers

Murray Bauman

Alexei

Stumptown | OLD

Dex Parios

Grey McConnell

[cowardly--throwaway]

A Well-Placed Gift Chapter 3: Home

Rated: Explicit ***WARNING: NON-CON, FUCKED-UP MANIPULATIVE POWER DYNAMICS/FORCED RELATIONSHIPS!***

a.k.a. more of the problematic Bandit Hob/Nuala smut you didn't ask for.

Ao3 link — Chapter 1 on Tumblr — Chapter 2 on Tumblr

"You're bringing her home?" The voice of Hob's friend — she thought it was the one called Charlie — was hushed, but the shock in it woke Nuala.

"When it's safe," Hob said. "I'll meet you later. There'll be plenty of wreckage to pick through."

"Hob," the one named Harry spoke up cautiously, "this isn't our usual…"

"Yeah, I don't think I want anything to do with this," the third friend, Artie, agreed strenuously. "Even if she has people who'll pay."

"I'm not asking you to do anything!" Hob said. "I'm staying! And then taking her back with me when the way's clear."

"It'd be better to move on and find somewhere to leave her," Charlie suggested reasonably.

"I'm not leaving her!" Hob said. "You all go on."

"Hobsie…" Artie went on in a worried whisper, "even if her people are dead, she looks like she has someone who'll come looking. If you've so much as frightened her, let alone spoiled her, you'll go to the gallows for sure!"

Nuala sat up. She blinked innocently up at the men and smiled. "Are you off to the war today?"

"We are," Artie said. "After a fashion." He was standing closest to Hob and had one hand on his shoulder as if physically pleading with him to abandon this particular course of action. He spoke to Hob in a low voice that Nuala probably wasn't supposed to hear. "Come with us. She'll bring you more grief than both Their Majesties Edward and Henry together! It's not worth it!"

Hob shook off his friend's hand and came to help Nuala up. "They'll be off. We can rest here a day or so longer, then make our way home if things have quieted a bit." He unwrapped a loaf of apparently very tough bread and wrestled with it for a moment before a big chunk tore off. He handed it to Nuala and shot a defiant look at his friends. "Go on. Before all the best bits are taken."

Charlie gave a halfhearted shrug and shuffled off. Harry hesitated, looking nervous, then he offered Nuala an awkward wave; then with a shake of his head, he left. Artie lingered.

"Hob—"

"Go on!"

Nuala smiled at the man and waved as though nothing in the world was wrong. This did not seem to calm him, but finally he heaved a sigh and turned away. 

Then they were alone.

"I've got food for a couple of days," Hob said, "but we'll likely be able to go back soon enough. These skirmishes have been moving all up and down the country."

"I can forage for berries," Nuala said.

"Not alone you won't."

Nuala turned away to hide her derisive glare. "Is it really so dangerous?"

"You've no idea."

A little later, Nuala was able to whisper a message to an amiable robin while Hob was relieving himself in the bushes. She said nothing of the war — the peril certainly wouldn't move Queen Titania — but she emphasized how banal and mundane Hob Gadling was, how uninteresting he must be to the Lord of Dreams, and how little threat he posed to anyone not traveling along a mortal road with glittering jewels.

In the light of day, she felt more in command of her emotions, but she did not forget the feeling of being cut adrift. The raw wound of losing everything lingered in her heart. And when Hob prompted her with questions, she surprised herself by answering openly.

"So you haven't got anyone?" Hob asked.

"I've got a brother, but he's… off playing games."

"Games?"

"Games of power." Too late she realized that this might make it sound like Cluracan was an influential man who might indeed come looking for an abducted sister. "He does not particularly care for me, unless it is convenient. He will not even notice that I am gone for some time I am sure. And he… he cannot help me. Even if he wished to."

She stared at the ground as horrified tears stung her eyes. What was she saying! If Hob Gadling wished to slit her throat and sell her fine clothes and whatever baubles he found in her pockets, she was only showing him how easy it would be! Oh, what a frustrating line she must walk — to make him think her a silly girl but not so worthless that he might as well cast her into a ditch himself! She had to choose her words more carefully. What was it about this Hob that made her want to speak so freely?

Well, she would not let him kill her.

She was a loyal enough faerie and would carry out her task as ordered — unless it meant only her destruction. What purpose would that serve? No, if it came to it, she would throw all her fae magic at this mortal and flee — and damn Queen Titania's orders!

She shivered just thinking it. But resolve hardened in her, and she raised her chin and her eyes were steely when they met Hob's.

He was frowning. "Sorry about that. Family's tough, isn't it? Plague carried off most of mine. The rest weren't worth sticking around for."

"Oh. Yes," she replied, baffled by the sympathy in his words. "They can be… confounding. At times." But I would save Cluracan, Nuala thought, if he were trapped, even if he were on a mission from the queen herself.

Thinking back, she was pretty sure she had gotten him out of some pretty tough spots. But she'd never had the faith that he would do the same in return. Indeed, if he'd been ordered to, Cluracan surely would've delivered Nuala to the Nightmare King himself!

She fell back into her own morose thoughts as her eyes scanned the greenery for returning messengers. But the forest remained resolutely quiet on the subject of Queen Titania's orders.

~

Later in the day, Nuala and Hob hiked together through the woods. They gathered some early spring berries and a few handfuls of young herbs. Hob caught a rabbit with his bare hands (after Nuala had silently lulled it to sleep in the bushes.) Hob seemed to watch and listen as keenly as possible for a human. He moved constantly to keep Nuala in his sights. Any time she strayed even a little from his side, his head snapped towards her. His hand often drifted to the heavy dagger at his side. 

Nuala was glad she wasn't a mere human girl hoping for a chance of escape.

At one point, Nuala stopped to listen to some movement far, far down the road. Hob's sharp eyes watched her, then roved the forest, then suddenly he was pressing her down under a bush. Some moments later, they listened to the tromp of heavy boots and the clink of armor. As the noise approached, Nuala's heart thrashed against her insides. Hob's dagger gleamed in a sliver of sunlight. Silently, without moving a muscle, Nuala flung a thin glamour over them.

The soldiers plodded past for what seemed like an age. Finally, they were gone. Hob held her down under the bushes for a long while, though Nuala could hear there were no more stragglers. The road was empty.

"Hopefully, that's them leaving this place," Hob said as he finally stood and helped her out of the bushes. "But we'd best stay far from the road till tomorrow."

Nuala's heart was still beating like a drum in her chest. And as she and Hob cautiously moved on, her ears remained perked for any distant sound — and not just the rumor of soldier's boots. She couldn't help straining her ears toward every passing bird, every bee, every squirrel, in case one was bringing news from Faerie. 

But the forest was busy with its own news. And no word from Queen Titania arrived.

Back at the hidden camp, Hob passed the evening sharpening weapons and cooking rabbit. Nuala remained under his sharp eye nearly constantly as she kept her eyes and ears open for word from home. She should, perhaps, send another message — after all, the message she'd sent back to Faerie with the amiable robin could've gone astray, or arrived but been drowned out in the chaos of a revel, or perhaps her quick message hadn't been enough to convince the queen of the banality of Hob Gadling and the uselessness of this mission. Sending another would show that Nuala was still dutifully at work on the task but also emphasize the reality of the situation.

Finally, she managed to beg a few minutes of privacy.

"Not further than a shout can travel," Hob warned her. "And I'll come looking after a few minutes."

Nuala didn't have to go far. She found a somewhat antisocial but sympathetic starling and sent another message off to Titania. This one emphasized that Hob and his companions were only interested in ransacking mortal lands — not even the magical strongholds of this world! They'd only spoken of trinkets. Jewels and coins and metals scavenged from the human battlefields or stolen from poor mortals along the roads. Hob seemed, from all Nuala could discern, to have no interest in anything of relevance, intrigue, or threat to either Faerie or the King of Nightmares. 

When the starling had flown off, Nuala hurried back to Hob before he could worry. 

As his gaze found her in the darkening shadows at the edge of the clearing, she stilled, lingering outside the circle of firelight. Hob sat on the mossy log beside the blaze and turned the spitted rabbit as he watched her. Hunger stared blatantly out of his eyes. Nuala worked to smooth the coldness from her glance before she stepped into the light. 

A small part of the despair that had overwhelmed her last night shifted inside her now. Perhaps there was something about the dancing flames and the scent of food and the bright moon above that reminded Nuala acutely of how she could be dancing at a revel now if she hadn't been thrust out of her home. 

There was something satisfying about watching Hob's greedy, smitten gaze follow her as she stepped around the blaze toward him. Nothing of her home or people remained in this forsaken forest. Nothing but her. She was still one of the fae, a shred of magic and beauty and fascination in this dull place. And though her own home might find her useless, Hob Gadling certainly did not.

Nuala sat on the dirty log beside Hob. So close that their legs touched. His heat penetrated her gossamer dress even more forcefully than the fire itself. Her heart thudded too hard in her chest, but it was preferable to that empty, adrift feeling of abandonment. Though she wasn't cold, she shivered and — keeping her eyes on the grubby man — stuck her hands out toward the fire. "It is good not to be all alone in the cold woods," she said. "I am grateful that you found me."

Hob shifted, his muscles tensing. He turned his head back toward the meal and poked at one of the rabbit's legs with a knife, but he watched Nuala out of the corner of his eye. "Aye. A cold forest is a hard place to be on your own."

"And now your friends are gone. Do you not wish you had accompanied them, seeking treasure?"

He let one shoulder rise and fall. "We've been seeking our fortunes all up and down the roads these last few months. It's been a fruitful time." His teeth gleamed as he grinned, and Nuala had very little doubt what kind of fruit these violent times had born for Hob and his friends. "Might as well take some well-earned rest."

He stabbed at a piece of meat, wrenching and tearing it off. He watched it for a moment as it cooled slightly and then handed it to Nuala. 

She leaned slightly into him as she nibbled at the meat. Her eyes turned toward the fire. Her heart, which had leaped up into her throat, pounded against her voice as she said, "Is it not that you've already claimed your treasure?"

She looked at him steadily — or as steadily as possible with her heart pounding so — and he looked back, quietly chewing on his charred rabbit.

"What is your plan, Hob?" she asked, speaking more plainly than she had yet. "What if there are none who will pay?"

Something warred in his eyes, pity and desire perhaps. "Is there truly no one waiting?"

"There is not," she said. As it had earlier, instinct cautioned her not to speak so freely, but Nuala ignored it. Maybe something about the firelight and the fact that Hob was on his own now made her bold. But she might as well be frank and find out quickly what he meant to do with her — and if he planned to dispose of her if she weren't profitable. If that was his intention, then they could get this fight over with quickly and Nuala could inform Queen Titania that Hob Gadling was no longer any concern to anyone.

"No man waiting for you somewhere?" Hob asked.

Only Cluracan, and he probably hadn't even noticed she was gone yet. Nuala shook her head.

Hob narrowed his eyes. "Not even a promised one? Your sort are always promising their daughters and sons away."

Nuala almost laughed at the secret irony — that here she was promised, after a fashion, to him. "Perhaps that is the usual way of things, but I have never been committed to marry another," she said, which was true enough. Titania cared not for the specific rules of mortal relationships. "And now…" She did not speak a specific lie, but she remembered the way the men had made assumptions yesterday — filling in the lies themselves, fitting Nuala into the complex dramas of the mortal realm, their minds spinning tales of a family on the losing side without her even speaking a word. "I do not know that any man would wish for my commitment."

"Hey, you don't know that!" Hob said, his encouraging tone surprising Nuala. "It all depends on who prevails when Henry and Margaret get to London! And my money—" He cocked his head for a second and a smirk ghosted across his lips. "—maybe not my life, but my money's on this King Edward, even after that thrashing at St. Albans. He's a young thing, but maybe a kingly sort, from the sound of it. His father knew his way around a battle, and if this boy's got half his spirit and wit on the field, he just might pull ahead of His Formerly Anointed Majesty and that she-wolf."

"You are kind to say so," Nuala said. She had no idea whatsoever what Hob was talking about, but his fierce defense of her imagined father's imaginary alliances was touching. She laid aside a particularly burnt piece of meat and turned to face Hob fully. She lifted her chin slightly, met his eye, and banished the shadow of the naive girl that had first met this bandit upon the road. "But the truth is, I have none to pay for my safety and no wealth but what you have already taken."

Hob's eyes flickered away from hers for a heartbeat, perhaps the tiniest shred of shame visible in their depths. He did not speak.

"So if your intention is to slit my throat or otherwise and discard of that which is of no use to you, then I ask only for the kindness of a moment to…" To draw on her magic and send Hob Gadling himself to the Nightmare Realm or into whatever comparable horrors her fae powers could concoct.  "…to make my peace."

His gaze lifted to her again. "Many would wish for the opposite," he said. "On the battlefield, a sudden end is a gift. Seeing death coming is a hard thing, milady."

"I would defer to your expertise were we on the battlefield. But this is not the war, and I am not your enemy." She kept her gaze steady on him. If he did have murder on the mind, then she would have it out in the open, and she would meet the danger head on. If he didn't seek to destroy her, then she would do what she had been sent here for. For the first time, she let magic creep into her words, "Can you speak truthfully and grant me the kindness I ask for?"

"I'll not kill you," he said swiftly, and Nuala could hear the truth vibrating against the threads of her magic. "I'd grant you anything in my power — including that kindness you ask for, if I intended to steal your life, but I don't, so such a boon can't be given." 

It was, perhaps fittingly, a winding fae-like answer, but Nuala could hear the earnestness behind it. A smile crept onto her lips, and she relaxed slightly, her magic fading into the night. 

She raised a hand to the rough whiskers on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, letting some shadow of the naive mortal girl creep back into her manner. "I've no wealth nor connection, but… I can make myself useful otherwise."

He made a soft animal sound deep in his throat, and she felt him swallow against her hand. "Don't tempt me, girl." His voice was nearly a growl. "I'll not slit your throat or any of that, but I'm not a restrained man."

But tempting Hob was exactly what Nuala was here to do. And how easy he seemed to tempt! Despite his protest, his eyes roved her body hungrily. And (letting her own glance wander) she could clearly see his desire was already aroused.

Perhaps she was simply clinging to her task as the one solid thing within reach — her purpose here the only remnant of the world from which she'd been cut adrift — and with no further word from Faerie, all she could do was carry on. Or perhaps Hob Gadling was just warm and there. Even in the dullest revel of Faerie, Nuala would have her choice of courtiers and free fae to find comfort in. Here, there was only Hob.

She peaked up at him and leaned closer, letting her fingers rake through the hair on his jawline and feeling his slight quiver in response.

"What need is there of restraint in a place like this?" she asked, looking around at the dark clearing.

Hob's eyes narrowed — a spark lighted in them, a look so keen that for a moment, Nuala was afraid she'd been found out as a spy. But Hob just grinned. "Oh, you are a temptress."

Yes, she was. Or she could be.

His hair ran like silk over her fingers as her hand brushed the back of his head, her nails scraping lightly. His breath quickened. His dark eyes flashed in the firelight and a muscle worked in his jaw.

And then he was on her.

In a second, with nearly fae speed, he'd crushed her against him. One rough hand grabbed a fistful of her dress at her back, the other groped the side of her breast. His rough whiskers scraped against her neck as his lips devoured her, his mouth finding the softest skin over her pulse point as unerringly as a hungry wolf.

It wasn't horrible. Hob's hands were inelegant but not bruising. His skin was calloused and his nails — slightly too long and ragged — pressed into her flesh, but the sensations were rough, not painful. His movements felt greedy — one hand had wandered downward to cling at her backside — but also almost careful. The muscles under Nuala's fingers spoke of strength that could easily hurt her soft form, but which was restraining his hungry groping movements so as not to harm. She found her own hands clinging to Hob's rough tunic, her head dropping back to allow his questing lips to move freely over her skin, her eyes drifting shut. The sensations that raced from his touch and through her body went some ways toward dispelling the pain of abandonment. Or at least distracting from it.

Suddenly she was lifted, and then Hob was pressing her down into the fresh spring grass. 

And then his hands disappeared from her. He held himself up on his fists and his knees, looking down at her like a wolf hesitating over a meal.

Nuala wondered if it was concern for her or concern for himself — for the consequences his friend had warned him of, for "spoiling" her. She didn't care. She lifted her head and kissed him, one hand clutching the back of his neck and dragging him back down. 

Hob's restraint shattered. His weight pressed into her, his cock was hard and leaking where it was trapped between them. His hand strayed between her legs, and those thick, calloused fingers pressed into the exact spot that that made her gasp. 

And then, while his thumb quested mercilessly over that same spot, his fingers plunged deep inside her. She clenched around him, and he stilled. 

He growled into her neck, then seemed to find his words. "You are… untouched?"

Well, this glamour was. She answered truthfully, "No mortal man has lain with me."

Hob was very still for a long moment. His hand began to move first, as if it could not tolerate whatever restraint his wiser parts might be trying to impose. He moved tentatively, and Nuala's hips responded, moving against him and seeking sensation to blot out the despair of exile.

"Wanton thing," he whispered as she writhed against his palm. "Just waiting for someone bold enough to come along, eh? Someone not frightened by that fine garb?"

She responded with a light moan, the only communication she could manage as she closed her eyes and threw back her head against the hard ground and sank into the feel of his fingers on and in her. She clutched at his hair, his shoulders, those hard-muscled arms, once again grabbing at him like the edge of a ship in a storm.

His hands were gentle, but the rough skin of his fingers moved against her nerves like nothing she'd ever felt before. She could feel his hardness against her hip, but he patiently worked his hands between her legs gathering her pleasure until she was panting with the weight of it. She vaguely thought how simple this seemed, for Nuala knew how to seduce and please a man, but Hob's enthusiasm required no coaxing and truly very little effort on her part. The thought, however, was a shred, floating away on the wisps of coherency as they fled her mind under his tireless ministrations. 

"Hob!" she gasped his name, her back arching off the grass. Her eyes were still shut tight, and she was all sensation — Hob's hand drawing out her crest and the night breeze wicking sweat off her skin and the tension fleeing her body as she fell loosely back to the grass.

"You are the loveliest thing in the world like this," Hob growled above her.

She opened her eyes and had to admit there was something lovely about the man above her, too. The firelight danced in his silken hair, and his eyes were like endless, dark pools, the muscles of his chest moved gently with every breath, and he was focused on nothing but her. Hob Gadling didn't have the fine clothes or the soft hands of a courtier. But in this rough, forsaken place, he seemed as much a part of the night and the woods and the hungry, beating heart of humanity as the faeries were a part of their own magical homes. 

He entered her slowly. Once again, she could feel the restraint in every movement, but also the need that drove him on despite it. Her body welcomed him in, clutching at him as if every fiber of her being needed to hold him tight. Fresh sparks of pleasure ignited deep inside her, and she urged him on with her hips and one hand straying gently to his arse. 

His movements quickened as if he couldn't help it, and soon she was clenching harder around him, and then he stilled, spilling his seed deep in her. 

And again, Hob fell asleep clutching her tight to him.

Under the sound of his deep, rhythmic breaths, Nuala whispered spells to clean his seed from her before it could take root.

~

Nuala woke to a bright sun and a chill breeze streaming into the clearing. The warm arms that had been wrapped around her middle through the cold night had disappeared, but a heavy wool blanket had been draped over her. She clutched at the rough material — a tiny kindness that gave her a disproportionate sense of comfort — and she lay still, watching Hob moving about the clearing. A delicate frost crusted the grass, and his heavy boots crunched over the ground as he packed things up, stuffing blankets and blades away. Some went into his pack and others into rough wooden boxes that he pushed under dense bushes.

He smiled when he noticed her looking. "Morning! Ready for a walk?" He tucked a chunk of his long hair behind one ear as he came to help her up. "It's a bit of a march back home and we'll have to go carefully, but we can be back by nightfall if things have quieted down a bit."

"I can walk far through the forest," Nuala said, still clutching the blanket around her shoulders. "You need not worry."

Hob gave her a speculating glance, then smiled. "You are a surprising thing."

For some utterly incomprehensible reason, Nuala smiled back as Hob handed her some cold rabbit and his own cup of water. 

The roads were quiet, and Hob and Nuala made good time. Twice he pulled her aside into the undergrowth when they heard steps and hooves on the road. But they were only small groups of travelers passing with weary faces. By late afternoon, Nuala could see the trees thinning up ahead, making way for small, crude buildings. The smell of cooking fires and the clucking of chickens and the rise and fall of voices wove toward them through the forest's edge. A few flakes of snow had begun to breach the canopy.

But Hob drew her off the road again before they breached the tree line. He guided her along a thin, overgrown path that wound around a hill and into deeper woods. Under a particularly thick stand of trees stood a small shack. 

"It used to be a nice little farm," Hob said. "Back when… erm, my grandfather lived here. But the plague left many spots around these parts empty and the forest took them back." He stuck his hands in his pockets. Some of the tension of the road seemed to ease from his body, but he watched Nuala cautiously out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I preferred soldiering to faming anyway. But we could get a little garden going there by the stoop if you'd like."

He pointed to a patch of dirt between the tree roots and the door of the shack. Then he opened the door and ushered her inside. 

It truly was a shack. There was a little space for a fire in the center. Gaps at the top of the walls would let the smoke out and the chill in, but they (mostly) stopped the snow. There was a table with two stools in one corner and a bed with a lively patchwork quilt in another. 

It was sparser than all but the lowest free fae hovels, but it was a home. A lump rose in Nuala's throat at the reminder of the very thing she'd lost. 

Feeling suddenly shy, she turned to Hob and smiled kindly. "You are generous to share your home with me. I would happily sow and tend a garden."

Hob beamed, and his cheeks went a little ruddy. The smile faded as he shifted his hands in his pockets. He hesitated for a moment then drew out Queen Titania's jeweled necklace and the fine broach he'd taken two days before. 

His gaze flashed with just a hint of guilt as he peaked up at her. "I know where to get a pretty penny for these. We could fix this place up a bit. Give you a comfortable place to rest while I'm off fighting. If we buried some of the coin, you could save it for the lean times or if… Well, you'd have it in case one day I didn't come back."

Nuala blinked at him. She wondered what his plan was. Did he still think he could be killed? Or that the devil might return to collect his soul for whatever deal he'd struck? Or was he just planning to disappear one day and let her think he'd been cut down on some distant battlefield? None of this, however, mattered to the feeling of warmth that crept through her at his words. 

Hob Gadling might be a rogue, a bandit, a mercenary, and who knows what else. But Nuala couldn't remember the last time someone gave thought to her care — even in the moment, let alone along possible future paths. At the Court of Faerie, the pleasure and desires of the moment ruled. Political plots could be meticulous and run through the ages, but the whims of daily life could change like the wind. Despite their long lives, the fae — herself included — weren't known for developing responsibility and commitment. She hadn't thought humans were much better.

"Sell them," Nuala said. And why not? Queen Titania had handed the jewels — and her — over to Hob as if they were nothing. Why shouldn't he use them to make her time here more bearable? "A home is worth a hundred jewels."

Hob's smile at the word home was as blinding as the sun.