Stork Delivery Service
Okay, so Matthew thinks he's got this whole Raven of the Dreaming business down pat, right?
What? It's been a hundred years. There was one harrowing moment where he thought that they were all gonna lose the Boss and end up with Daniel becoming the new Boss but that didn't happen, thank Christ and all His Angels (especially Michael) for that.
But hey, things worked out, right? The Boss is happily married to Hob Gadling and it's kinda sweet how those two had never seemed to have left the "honeymoon phase" what with all the cooing and flirting via poetry.
(It had the added benefit of sending Desire of the Endless into a total hissy fit because ewww not my brother ick ick ick nooooo and apparently there WAS such a thing as Brain Bleach™ which was just karma, in Matthew's considered opinion.)
Anyway!
There had been a few weird happenings in the Dreaming lately, what with Lucienne suddenly finding the Library completely upside down, for starters. Then, there was that day where everyone seemed to be suffering the worst Migraine in History and the Dreaming had collectively gone, "Yeah, nope, we're not going to be working today. Eurgh."
And then, there were a few nights where everyone just woke up craving all sorts of food. Like Matthew himself suddenly just wanted a pizza with all the toppings, including pineapple, for Chrissakes and pineapple was a mortal sin against pizza, worthy of being damned to the lowest pit of hell, okay?!
So Matthew just gets this strange compulsion, like he needed to check things out over by the Giant Rapunzel Patch™ - which, apparently, was in use by the more Fairy Tale-inclined dreams. Sure, whatever - Matthew wasn't exactly a big fan of eating his vegetables. Sorry, kids.
And he settles down by this utterly ginormous patch of rampion and finds... a baby.
A very familiar looking baby.
Look, the kid looked very much like a certain Lord of Dreams - what with the whole Snow White routine, right down to the rosebud lips in that Familiar Pout, protesting his current indignity with all his might.
Matthew manages to scrounge up the softest blanket he could find and wraps the kid up, a minor feat, what with the lack of opposable thumbs. But he did it and he flew off to the Castle with the baby, who calmed down immediately, much to Matthew's relief.
His Darkness was oddly unsurprised when Matthew deposited the kid into his arms, snuggling him close and greeting him with a: "Hello, my little love. Welcome home."
Look, Matthew could be forgiven for the incoherent: "Uh, Boss, how?!!! And what's his name?!"
Dream declined to answer the first question. But the answer to the second was, "His name is Oliver. His other father will be very glad to meet him."
Oliver, the little Prince of the Dreaming, was just as delighted to meet his Da, at least as far as they could tell with the happy gurgling and cooing.
-end-
Footnote the First: Dream is STILL refusing to explain how Oliver came to be, other than: "It is all very much my husband's fault."
Footnote the Second: Hob's only response to this is: "Welp, when two people love each other very much..."
Footnote the Third: Oliver's godparents include a Muse, one Really Old Guy, an Archangel, Death of the Endless and Rose Walker.
Footnote the Fourth: Oliver's first complete sentence was "Shaxbert yucky!" much to the delight of his other father. Look, if Dream wasn't singing him lullabies, he tended to fall asleep to Hob's infamous Shakespeare Rants™!
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Astarion: You looked out for me, not matter what I did. Even when I said I didn’t need your help, you just push my barriers away, and comforted me. You are my shade, you are always there to be my cover and protect us both.
Luxia: hehehe, did you say ‘shade’ because my name is Nightshade?
Astarion: I just wanted to be clever, and make an easy metaphor. Did it work?
Luxia: hehe pecks his lips yes, it did. She hugs him You’re such a softie
Astarion: You’re quite soft yourself
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Hob's students know their professor so well that if they mention certain Shakespeare sonnets, there are guaranteed reactions.
Without fail.
Every damn time.
Obviously, they all remind him of his darling husband, Professor Murphy, but it was interesting to catalogue the intensity of his reaction versus the sonnet in question.
Blushes? Awww, cute.
Swearing? Pffthahahaha. Adorable.
Medieval-inspired oaths? Ooooh. Uh. Huh. Is it hot in here?
Legit Middle English? 😳😳😳 Hey, who let Professor Murphy in here?
***
I blame @arialerendeair ENTIRELY for this!
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It takes conscious effort to not flinch when Wendy wraps him in the world’s most awkward hug, and even greater effort to not desperately return it. “Of course we’re friends.”
There’s a tiny, terrified part of him that doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop if his body decides to start crying right now – and an even more terrified part that is just so fucking relieved to learn he’s still able to. He hasn’t cried since his mom left. “Why are you being such a dick about it then?”
“I’m sorry, okay? It’s been a weird situation for me.”
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