#Slightly broken Hob

[bluedreamsofhope]

So, I’ve seen a post with a take on the Hob rescues Dream and going in guns blazing, because after world war 1 and 2, he would possibly be bitter and scarred to some degree, and so when he finds out about Dream being captured for decades and knowing the cruelty humans are capable of, particularly from WW2, he doesn’t particularly care what happens to the people who are holding his friend prisoner and when Dream locks eyes with him, he sees an emptiness in them, that wasn’t ever there before (it’s not permanent, but Hob has not quite healed yet from the wars) And because my brain loves angst, I want to raise you: Hob, who has lived through world war 1, the spanish flu and world war 2, who’s fought in both wars. He’s seen the cruelty of men and nature. He’s also killed many men himself and he’s watched many men, women and even some children die at the hands of others. He is haunted by all the faces of the people he killed and the ones he didn’t. The expressions on the faces of the ones that killed him (to the best of their knowledge) and the ones that simply couldn’t. He knows the stories of plenty of his comrades and he knows the stories of a fair few enemy soldiers. He’s seen how the cruelty of men and the cruelty of the orders given to them inflicts horrible harm on victims and twists the minds of the men following those orders. Hob has seen and felt first-hand how war and violence devastates humanity and he can not be any part of it anymore. So when he finds out that his Stranger has been captured and imprisoned, of course he is going to help. Of course he is going to rescue him, the thought of a friend suffering like that not something he could tolerate at the best of times, much less now. And Hob is still an optimist at heart, and he is still a clever and persistent man, he will still manage. But while Hob would like to say that he would do anything to rescue his Stranger, the truth is he wouldn’t. He can’t. He cannot kill another person, cannot end another life after all the lives he’s seen lost in the last handful of decades. He cannot see another person’s light go out in front of his eyes so soon. So Hob comes to rescue Dream. He fights the guards. He has weapons, he is prepared and he is skilled, the guards are far less skilled and caught by surprise. He could kill them easily, and Dream knows this, but instead he knocks them out without inflicting any permanent harm. He doesn’t use his gun, he barely uses his dagger, and he earns himself a bullet in the leg and a number of knife-wounds for it. And when he turns to his Stranger - his friend who is all but skin and bones and like on fucking display - when Dream sees the hurt in his eyes, this is when Dream realises for the first time just how dark and desolate humanities’ dreams have truly become in his decades of absence.

[gabessquishytum]

While I love Dream with past shitty partners before he meets Hob having his his mind blown after he finally experiences what a good partner actually is' how about...

Hob was Dreams first love, and with that his first everything, They did the whole romance cliché of childhood friends to a serious relationship (complete with years of pinning) on the very edge of marriage with a white picket fence and kids Dream and Hob have the worse fight ever seen by either of their families, in the end Dream storms out into the rain and Hob is left yelling at him from the doorway (1889 anyone?).

Within a week Dream has moved away to pursue his dream as a artist and writer and Hob is on a plane to start backpacking around the world. The break up is swift and painful,

Eventually Dream starts dating again, but he quickly realizes that he keeps attracting the wrong sort of people; Killala started chatting up some guy obsessed with stars the second she thought his back was turned. Alianora had only dated him because Desire dared her too, Nada has tried to use him to further her families business and Titania had already been fucking married! The less said about Cori the better.

In a different world perhaps Dream would have clung on, would have delt with it and accepted what he could get. Just believed it was all he was worthy of but the thing is Dream has already experienced what it was like to have a partner who sees you as an equal. Who loves you is faithful to you and who cares about your opinion. Dream knows what he is worth and it was so much more than what any of those peoples were going to give him.

Over a decade and a half later and Dream returns to his hometown for the first time with his little Orpheus on his hip. The boys mother Calliope was a fellow lover of the arts and a famous singer. Their combined passion had lead to several award winning pieces and the creation of their beloved son but three months into a relationship had proven they were just not compatible for anything long term but Dream is forever thankful for her steady friendship.

With Calliope away on tour and no deadlines for him to complete Dream takes his son to the local park where the boy becomes fast friends with another little boy named Robin Gadling the only son of recently widowed Robert (Hob) Gadling.

It seems the Hob with his wonderfully soft dad-bod and slightly greying temple can still ignite the same burning desire within Dream as he did when Dream was a young bright-eyed twenty year-old.

This is so glorious, can you imagine their eyes meeting across the park, past the swing sets and slides and toddlers tugging on their hands!!! Dream is sure he must be, well, dreaming. He's thought of Hob often in the past few weeks that he's been back around town, occasionally fantasising about what he might look like now. He just wasn't expecting to see his former lover and have the word "daddy" immediately pop into his head.

And it seems that Hob is, literally, a daddy. He kneels to speak to Robin, who is gesturing wildly towards Orpheus, and Dream can't even move because seeing Hob being attentive to his son is just. So beautiful. But of course Orpheus drags him over to Robin and Hob gets to his feet and he's somehow even more glorious. Dream didn't think it was possible but he immediately falls right back in love with a man he hasn't seen for over 15 years.

Hob is shy and a little withdrawn, seeming like he doesn't want to offend Dream or freak him out by being too friendly. Truthfully Hob doesn't want his heart broken again. And maybe he'd be better at resisting temptation, but Robin wants more time with Orpheus and Hob can never resist his son's puppy eyes. So he finds himself sitting beside Dream on a bench, just like how they used to feed the birds together in the old days. Their thighs brush together and Hob feels like they were never even apart. He could just hold Dream’s hand right now and they could go back to how it used to be. He hopes that Dream feels it too. That he won't be disappointed that Hob is tired, and grieving, and not in the shape he used to be.

Maybe Dream will work up the courage to tell him that his weariness and the fact that he's a little frayed around the edges make him all the more perfect. Because they match each other, perfectly.

[diorchids]

bunny, coriolanus snow.

dead dove do not eat (dddne), dubcon, r is a barrack bunny, peacekeeper!coryo, groping, abuse of power, degradation.

you wear that pink bow in your hair, smacking your gum as you walk in the woods when you spot him.

coriolanus snow. slides right off the tongue.

you'd seen him before in the hob, getting drunk and occasionally giving you a look. he obviously didn't like you. parading yourself around like a whore, in his words.

he made himself known by clearing his throat while his right hand rested on his belt. "are you supposed to be out here?" he slightly shouted, still being a ways away from you.

you'd stopped walking, obviously annoyed by the broken silence. "curfew doesn't start 'till 7, sir. i still have time," you shouted back to him while he walked closer.

his gaze on you was filthy, he knew what you were. bouncing around the barracks, coming in late to see sejanus or any other guy.

"you should get back. you're this far into the woods, if anything happened, we’re a ways out,” grass crunching underneath his boots, he looked you up and down, “but i guess you wouldn’t mind, would you?”

that wasn’t flirting—it was genuine disgust. he’d heard all these things about you, stories other peacekeepers told him.

you’d sucked many peacekeepers off, in an alley or in an empty barrack. you’d be pulled into a room at the back of the hob, getting ruined by one if you were lucky.

he cocked his brow at you while he gripped that steel, metal gun. he wouldn’t hurt you. no, he just wanted an answer. “depends on what you’re talkin’ about, sir,” you quipped when he walked closer, flirting a bit.

he was close now, standing a few feet away before he got even closer. “what do you think you’re doing?” he paused, grabbing the hem of your dress, tugging it down, “a district slut trying to flirt her way out, you’re disgusting.”

you were taken aback, attempting to push him away, “nothing, sir, i didn’t—i wasn’t doing anything!” he gripped your arm tightly, “i could report you. you don’t want that-–do you?” you didn’t. you couldn’t get reported by a peacekeeper. you looked away from him, mouth agape when you imagined the cruel punishments you would go through, even from just a report.

coriolanus, on the outside, was a good peacekeeper. those exams were a breeze for him, and he behaved exceptionally.

he wasn't so good outside of those barracks though. he’d been watching you, it was obvious—not to you of course. “no, sir,” you looked at his boots, subconsciously taking in his smell.

he shakes his head, tutting, “exactly,” he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to meet his, “you’re lucky i don’t haul you off right now.” you were lucky. extremely. anyone who had this extreme of a run-in with a peacekeeper would be locked up by now. but you’re different.

“thank you, sir,” you huffed out, slowly creating distance between yourselves. you wanted him badly, your core burning with feverishness.

he wasn’t satisfied, though.

you looked up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, making his pants tighten. he hated this about you, being able to elicit a reaction out of him.

“up against the tree, now,” he was bored at this point, finding any reason to keep you in these woods with him. before you could even complain, he rested his hand on that gun, silently making you comply.

you nod slowly, tears threatening to prickle at your waterline. of course you listened to him, you were somewhat desperate. you couldn’t make a peacekeeper upset.

you were up against the tree when he began to “search” you without warning way too close for comfort. his chest was pressed against your back, and you felt his cock against your lower back. hesitantly, you softly pushed back against it desperately, you needed something.

he broke the silence, “i won’t hesitate to kill you, right here, right now—fucking disgusting.” he dug nails into your hips to keep you still. his hands roamed freely across your body, squeezing your soft breasts while he let out occasional groans and you just whimpered underneath.

he knew it was wrong—you both did—that didn’t stop him.

his hands slid up your thighs slowly, thumb gently rubbing at your inner thighs. he was playing with you. teasing even. “please, sir,” you softly said.

his free hand reaches down to grab his fat bulge, adjusting himself through his pants. his face was flushed with anger and lust as he brought his fingers to your cunt.

he touched your clothed mess through your panties. poor girl, you were soaked. his finger rubbed over your puffy clit, eliciting a whimper from you that made his cock throb. god, you’re pathetic. he smirked, pressing his hips forward onto you even more, rutting against you.

there was this predatory glint in his eyes, not that you could see, it was revolting. he grinned as he watched you shudder under his touch, only whimpering and making incoherent noises. he had barely even touched you, were you actually this desperate?

his fingers continue to rub your clit while his head hung low beside your ear, “you’re already so wet. you’re fuckin’ filthy.” he spat. he hooked his finger on your panties and tugged them down without hesitation.

your eyes had tears in them by now, having to step out of your panties in front of him while he watched.

god, you’re a mess.

inspired by — keeping the peace by @dark-fics-4-you .

[the-kr8tor]

Happy 1 year !!! It went by so fast I didn’t even realize until u mentioned it 😭

Hope u don’t mind me adding an apothecary req to ur pile QwQ

Could I get cardamom + heart shaped bottle of waking up a little past midnight from a nap with hobie ? Lots of snuggles and maybe some random ass cozy 2-4 am activity 🥺

Happy writing! Remember to drink water, eat snacks, and take breaks ❤️ !!!

Thank you for sticking around! Here's your potion, I hope you like it 💕

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), cw suggestive, FLUFF!

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The metal fan whirs in the background of your shared bedroom. It's warm and humid, almost seethingly hot as you lay side by side with Hobie in deep slumber. Sweat dribbles off your back, moist clinging to the back of your shirt and seeping through the thin bed sheets. You groan, eyes still closed, hand reaching towards him blindly, fingers patting along the sheets to find his warmth. Still half asleep, you huff, unknowingly scrunching your face.

Hobie, also asleep, and yet his spider senses wake him up from your need to be near him. He snorts, foot kicking the blanket off him and onto the foot of the bed. Groaning, he flips himself to face you, eyes closed, he scooches closer to you despite the heat.

Your fingers brush along his bare arm and you instinctively hold onto him like a life preserver. He feels the sweat on your palm, making him crack open one eye in the dark. He sees your uncomfortable expression, and his senses fully wake him up.

“Fuckin' hell.” Hobie whispers, exhaling tiredly, he feels like ice under a heat lamp. You make a sound akin to the start of a sob, he immediately pats your bicep. “Sorry, go back to sleep.”

“It's so hot.” You softly complain, eyes half lidded, frown deepening with every drop of sweat. “I'm dying, Hobie.”

He chuckles, “I know, love, you won't even cuddle me like always.” The crickets outside chirp, summer air blowing right outside the houseboat window.

“If I get anymore near you I'd melt.”

“You always melt when you're near me.”

“That's different,” your tone has a slight lilt of playfulness. “this one is a disgusting kind of melt. The kind where you only see in the gym.”

“The disgusting kind?” His eyes sparkles with amusement.

“Yeah,” you blink away the remaining sleep. “the stinky kind.”

His knuckles brush along your arm, making you flick his elbow. “Ow, what's that for?”

“Too hot.” You say, face shoved into your pillow. “Sorry, I'm sticky, I feel icky, augh.”

“D’you want me to do something ‘bout it, stinky?” He smiles tiredly, fighting off a yawn, hand still atop your arm that you don't brush off.

“Our AC is broken, Hobs, you said it yourself. Unless you use that gorgeous brain of yours to fix it.” You change position, lifting yourself slightly off the mattress, you now face the ceiling, arms away from you like you're about to flap your nonexistent wings. “I'm dying, I'm gonna kill the AC cleaning company for not coming yesterday. I think they're the reason why it's broken. Too much dust.”

“The entire company?” He teases, beaming at you, tapping the pads of his fingers on your warm skin. “That's a bit ambitious innit?”

“I can handle them, ‘fear a woman scorned’ or whatever the saying goes, I'm too hot to remember.” You chuckle at the end.

“I don't think that's how it goes, love.” He slides himself closer to you, skin sticking to your skin. You make a face but don't push him away. His face looms above you, smiling softly, moonlight bathing him in all his glory. “You're right about one thing though,” the pad of his thumbs wipe sweat off your brow, and you do him the favour of wiping the sweat clinging to the tip of his nose. “You are bloody hot.”

You smile at him, leaning closer to his touch while he does the same. “Do you know what's gonna make me hotter?”

“Lingerie—?” You slap his arm. “What? You asked and I answered.” He laughs, palms rubbing the sweat off your temple.

“No!” You shake his shoulders, “the AC finally working and us sleeping peacefully.”

“I agree with the first one, but the second? I can think of other things—” He stops at the sight of your pointed glare. “—I can check it for you. I might be able to fix it.”

You sigh dramatically, like a weight off your shoulders is gone. “Please? I bet a genius like yourself can fix it.”

He fakes a scoff, already lifting himself off the bed, “you don't need to gas me up, love, ‘m already on it.”

“Thank you, the most genius, handsome Spider-Man in the whole universe—” His lips are suddenly on yours, pecking quickly before you could even hold him in place.

“Stay there,” Hobie stands on the foot of the bed, you place your chin on your palms, fluttering your eyelashes like a schoolgirl with a crush. “We're not done yet with our conversation.” He says while walking backwards towards the door.

“Fix it please and we'll have a very long conversation.”

He tilts his head, brow raised, laughing at the double meaning. His own foot betrays him, making him trip on nothing when you wink at him. A wink that is sub-par due to your lack of sleep, but it has him weak nonetheless. With a click of the door, your head hits the pillow once again, trying to survive the heat.

It must've been a good fifteen minutes since Hobie left but it felt like the most excruciating hours for you. Your pajama shorts and shirt have basically melted into one with the bedsheets, and yet you keep dozing off despite it. The roar of the AC finally starting has your skin jumping from your body, and you hear a faint cheer from somewhere around the houseboat.

You smile softly as cool air finally billows out, a cold breeze hitting your moist skin. Sighing, you comfortably adjust yourself on the bed, cheek squished on the pillow, eyes drifting off— Until the bed dips and you open your eyes to a very smug yet happy Hobie. He waits for your thank yous with a lopsided smile, he's clearly proud of himself.

“Do you accept payments in cuddles?” You murmur, arm already reaching up towards him, fingers beckoning him over.

Hobie acts as if he's thinking long and hard about his decision. “Am I free to negotiate?”

You shake your head with a smile, giggling against the pillow that smells like him. “Nope.”

He plops himself next to you, arm sliding under you, lifting you off the bed effortlessly to be placed on top of him. You laugh, immediately, placing your head on his chest. His arms envelope you, fingers kneading the small of your back. Meanwhile you cup his jaw, giving sleepy kisses until you're both satisfied.

“This is the best form of payment,” you say against his skin, eyes closing, sighing in content. You expect a rhetoric or a sarcastic reply from him but all you get from him are soft snores. “Thank you, Hobie.” You join him in dreamland, comfortable and cozy in his arms.

[ginjones]

An ending (Ascent)

It’s probably not normal, Hob will reflect later, to walk in on your boyfriend sitting cross legged on the floor, wearing a giant pair of headphones, clutching a spoon in one hand, and staring into the middle distance in what can only be described as a state of divine rapture.

Perhaps it is for celebrities who have access to all the really good drugs, but celebrities don’t leave their partners bundled up in bed while they nip to Tesco’s to buy more milk.

It’s also not normal that he’s completely naked, save for one black sock which sits defiantly on his left foot. That would explain the detritus of clothing which greeted him on his way down the hall, but not whatever…this is.

Dream is sitting with his back to the living room bookcase where Hob keeps his vinyl, a selection of it discarded around him. He’s playing absently with the cord of the huge Bose headphones, weaving the coils around his delicate fingers, lost in thought. And there’s nothing to suggest he’s noticed Hob’s presence, no questioning whether Hob has remembered to pick up his favourite snack. For a moment, Hob wonders if he should whip out his phone; take a sneaky picture of this ceremonious event. Then he notices the shimmer of tears falling serenely down his partner’s cheeks and discards the notion entire.

“You okay, sweeting?”

No response. He shrugs off his messenger bag and sits down to join him, scooting over the laminate floor in a graceless bum shuffle.

A soft, white light from the overhead lamp illuminates the scene. It pours over Dream like a sheet of pure silk, highlighting his nakedness and the paleness of his skin. There’s a wonder to his expression; something soft in the way his mouth is held slightly open, his hair mussed from sleep. Like a renaissance painting, he thinks, in the way that all academics conflate one thing with the other. like Iris in the land of Hypnos and yet, he looks so human.

Because of course, he is.

It’s been 4 months and 3 days since he’d chosen to join Hob in the earthly realm of humanity. Hob’s been keeping track on the calendar, trying to offer him one new experience a day. They’ve watched classic movies, read each other poetry, (Dream still has the perfect voice for orating) and early last week Hob had introduced him to modern music (the Beatles were a hit, the Stone Roses were not).

Hob’s immediate presence must break Dream out of his reverie because slowly, sapphire eyes meet his and wordlessly he places the spoon down, picks up the sleeve of an album and holds it out to Hob like it’s the Turin shroud.

It’s not immediately identifiable. The artwork a scant wash of beige imposed over an image of moon craters; aesthetically pleasing yes, but not particularly noteworthy. Hob’s collected vinyl for the better part of five decades but his visual memory’s not the best. Without being able to hear what Dream’s listening to he’s drawing a bit of a blank. Then he sees the sparse red writing at the top and the name down the side and all at once, it clicks.

Brian Eno has broken my boyfriend.

It’s not the first time Dream’s had such a visceral response to artwork in these acclimating months. It had been very sweet to find him weeping over local artwork in the coffee shop they’d visited in Coventry. The issue was the shame he’d felt afterwards. In the car park outside, Hob had soothed him, rubbing gentle circles across his back as he listened patiently to Dream’s lament that it was all too much, these…feelings. I cannot hide them like I did before.

This time however, the tears seem to have stopped and a hazy sort of smile plays at the corner of his lips. He’s coming back to himself and in the privacy of this moment, shared only with Hob, he may be able to appreciate this outpouring of emotion for it is, something human.

“Want to take off the cans so we can talk, love?”

Hob’s pretty sure Dream hasn’t learnt to read lips, but the headphones are slowly lifted away, leaving the tinny echo of the song playing in the background. His expression changes to imitate something of his former status, a furrow of the brow, a regal upturn of his chin.  

“Ah, you have return to me. You woke me when you left you know?”

He does, in fact know this. When he had risen gently from bed that morning, Dream had moved to pull him back; a flow of pale arms moving like water, muscles softened from sleep. He’s still getting used to it; the sense that Dream belongs here. That he won’t apparat back into endlessness, leaving the bed cold, the tea undrunk, the rooms quietened by his absence.

“And I’m guessing that’ll be the reasoning you give when I find arse prints on my lovely, new laminate floor?”

“You were gone for too long; I decided to entertain myself.”

“By listening to Brian Eno naked?”

“Yes”, his eyes trail down slowly to observe his current state, “I realised clothing was detracting from the experience.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that.

“So, you like Brian Eno, and I can see that he’s affected you,” Dream nods slowly, looking down to the album on the ground. “What is it about this album in particular, because I can tell there are some big feelings here. I want you to know we can discuss them.”

For a moment, Dream is silent, playing with the cord in his hands. He’s sitting a little straighter now, his shoulder muscles tightened in a familiar stance. Weighted by the question perhaps, a wish to answer dutifully, but still, he pauses for several seconds longer, worrying his bottom lip.

“It is… soothing I suppose. I enjoyed the piece Mata from this composition. It is nightmarish in its construction, recalling a jungle swollen with noxious blooms, but this one?”, he places a finger to the title, An ending (Ascent). “It remindsme of the space between form and thought where I once spun the diaphanous silk of my creations. It was where I was most at peace and upon listening, I found myself reminded of those moments.”

That is, quite frankly, a lot to unpack.

At his core, Dream remains a storyteller, weaving an elaborate web of seemingly disparate ideas. Hob finds it all a bit overwhelming. How he can take a piece of art, deconstruct it, and recraft it into something new. Pulling inspiration from the air, plucking its strings, and finding where the vibrations cross paths with his own experience. And Hob must be getting better at reading his partners mind because, in a quiet, searching tone, Dream asks:

“Has it been written for me?”

This man, Hob thinks This man who has come back to me, who has crept into my life and reads my books and listens to my music. This man who lays himself out to me in naked candour.

“Oh love, come here then. Give us a cuddle.” He’s blushing now, a pink hue spreading across the lily paleness of his chest. His skin is warm when Hob pulls him closer, and it smells sweet and living from sweat. “I mean, maybe? You tell me. Ever pay Mr Eno a visit like you did Shaxberd?”

“No,” Dream continues, “but it is as if this man has looked upon me and glimpsed a fragment of my being.”

“That’s a common phenomenon of the human experience I think. Lots of people feel like songs speak directly to them. Yours just happens to be written by Brian Eno-which doesn’t surprise me,” he chuckles affectionately, “he’s quite a conceptual artist-it’s all very ethereal.”

“Ethereal…” Dream pauses, his brow crinkled in thought. “Yes, there’s an otherworldliness to it I suppose… but a tangibility all the same. How the counter melody sits low in the mix-the bass notes appear rooted to the earth while the top notes look towards the sky. What did the first humans wonder when they looked towards my mother? I do not know…. I did not care for them as I do now”.

“Well,” Hob continues, “perhaps they thought about their own existence? Their place in a world which is confusing and often painful. Perhaps they wanted to feel like they were being protected by something bigger than themselves. Spirts; angels.”

“Angels?”, Dream scoffs “Angels do not sing like this. The holy choir is faultless in its melodies. It lacks the vibrancy of imperfection, the subtle intricacies of the human spirit. No; this piece holds far more divinity.”

“Ever thought about taking up music journalism Dove? Pitchfork would have a field day.”

As predicted, there’s no response to that.

So, Hob bundles him up and they sit on the sofa listening to Apollo together. Tomorrow, he’ll try and convince Dream to watch 28 days later, with the promise that An Ending (Ascent) is in the soundtrack. They’ll eat nothing but comfort food and Hob will remind Dream to brush his teeth before he goes to bed and in an otherworldly Parthenon, the muses will smile fondly down, and kiss the brow of a kindred aesthete.

[starrypawz]

AO3 What can I say I had an idea

On the shore of The Dreaming he senses something that ebbs and flows with the tide.

Whatever that something is very…

Small

Tired

With a broken heart… 

But the heart still beats strong. 

Curious. 

Gently he reaches out and

A crow? Most curious.

The crow, more than a little bedraggled, tilts their head as they stand.

“Caw?” (weakly) 

“Easy now,” 

Caw…. Caw?... Caw!  (Slightly panicked)

“No you are not, much longer though and you likely would have met my sister,”

Caw!! (Profanity) 

Caw (Apologetic) 

“That’s an… understandable reaction… although I will say she is actually… very nice.” 

Caw? 

“I am known by many names but… Often I am known as Dream,” 

“Caw!” (Introductory) Dream gives a faint smile, “I am aware,it is a  pleasure to meet you Monty the Crow” 

He regards the Crow who has just informed him that he is known as Monty (although he knew that already)  some more and then asks.

“What was your aim?” 

“Caw,” “London?” 

“Caw,” and then “Caw?”

“Unfortunately you didn’t get very far,” 

“Caw,” (Dejected) 

“Agreed, that was a rather foolish idea,” Dream tilts his head, “I must ask why did you undertake this fool’s errand?” 

“Caw?”

“I… can only sense fragments, you are rather weak right now,” 

“Caw,” (Panicked)

“Do not worry, you are safe here,” “Caw,” (Grateful) 

Dream pauses.

“So Monty the Crow what was the goal of your fool’s errand?”

“Caw?” 

“I only sensed fragments, you are… rather weak right now,”

“Caw,”

“You are safe here,”

“Caw,” (Grateful) 

Monty pauses and the way his feathers ruffle translates as a sigh before he takes a couple of hops that translate somehow as ‘pacing around whilst trying to get your thoughts together’

“Caw…” Another hop, “Caw… Caw…. Caw,”  Another hop, “Caw” (Dejected) 

“That… that is a rather noble cause,” Dream reaches out and then pauses, “May I?”

Monty nods. 

Dream lightly scratches him on the head, feather soft under his fingers and Dream feels a soft rush of affection run through him as Monty leans into his touch and ruffles his feathers and gives the faintest hint of a smile. 

“I… I sense you have not been treated kindly,” He offers his hand and Monty struggles to hop up. 

“Let me,” He soothes as he carefully guides him into his hand and lifts Monty closer to his face.

“I am sorry that has happened to you,” Dream stiffens, “Who… Who did this?” 

“Caw,” “A witch?” He pauses and… feels, “One named Esther Finch, I know of her and… I can sense she has met her long overdue fate,”

“Caw,”

“Maybe that offers you some comfort?” Monty moves his wings in a way that somehow reads as a shrug.

“I… I know what it is like, to be trapped,” Dream sighs, “Taken by someone who seeks power they do not deserve.. Let alone understand.” 

Monty tilts his head again.

“Tell me Monty, Tell me your story,”

“Caw-” 

“I am fond of long tales…” Dream smiles, “And we have all the time in the world whilst you are here,”

Monty ruffles his feathers and then 

“Caw-” 

And then after some time. 

“That is… quite the tale.” 

“Caw?” 

“Yes… now what,” Dream sighs, “I think I can aid you?”

“Caw?”

“Do not worry, I would not pull you into such a bargain, I would also not expect you to serve a new master so soon after gaining your freedom,” 

“Caw?”

“So…The Witch Esther Finch turned you into a human, tell me Monty do you wish to be back in that form?”

“Caw… Caw…” He pauses, “Caw?”

“I see… Understandable you do not want to be bound to one form… even if you found thumbs incredibly useful,” He gives an amused snort and gently scratches Monty on the head, “I believe… I believe I know someone who can aid you,” 

“Caw?”

“No he is not a witch… although I guess he is bewitching in his own way,” “Caw!” (Teasing) Dream swallows, “I am… incredibly fond of him.” Dream pauses, “You… you remind me of him, he is… an incredibly kind soul, eternally joyful,” He smiles, “Even if he is a little foolish at times, His name is Robert Gadling although he prefers to go by Hob, ” Dream pauses, “So Monty The Crow if you agree, once you awake you will find yourself in London,” 

“Very well them,” Dream pulls him against his chest, “Now rest,” 

Monty rests.

Hob awakes to early morning light through the window and realises he forgot to shut the curtains again as he winces  whilst in the background he can hear the ever present drone of the traffic of 21st century London. He finds his laptop in the bed and connects dots he was planning to grade just a couple of more papers last night, but judging from the Turnitin page that greets him when he wakes up the laptop that he’d fallen asleep about a quarter into grading the first one.

Later… later. Deal with that later.  At least two cups of coffee later. 

He’s just about to pass through to the kitchen when he notices something at the living room window.

Matthew? 

No that’s not Matthew.

Wait… that’s not a raven anyway, the beak’s the wrong shape and they’re too small that’s a… 

Crow. 

Oh. 

There hadn’t been A Visit last night (It’s actually been a while but not quite long enough that Hob is worried) but Hob had in that point where reality is a little… loose between waking and sleeping had heard a whisper. It’d been somewhat cryptic (He didn’t expect anything less) but the pieces start to slot together. 

Hob shakes his head with an affectionate snort as he lifts the sash window. It’s thankfully a warm morning. 

The crow tilts their head at him. 

“Well… come on in?” 

Hob takes a step back and watches as the crow hops through the opened window, carefully he shuts it behind them. 

There’s a pause for a moment before they hop from the windowsill and then

Falll  to the ground. 

Hob is caught off guard for a second before there’s a ruffle of feathers and then. 

Ah

So that’s why there’d been something about ‘spare clothes’ that’d sounded rather out of place coming from Dream. 

Hob now looks at the dark haired teenager who had been a crow moments ago who sits on the sofa. The borrowed t-shirt and shorts hang loose on him in a way that looks more ‘Handmedowns from an older sibling’ than ‘fashionably baggy’ 

The teenager looks up at him through curtain bangs with dark eyes that are bright and… oddly captivating.

Just like someone else I know. 

“So… Monty, right?”

Monty nods. 

“Dream?” They say, voice still croaky, “Sent me to you… somehow? Said you could help me?” 

“Hopefully?” Hob clears his throat, “So… are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” 

Breakfast. Right. That’s at least a problem he can fix. 

“Ok,” Hob smiles, and hopes it looks less nervous than he feels. “I’ll go make us something and you can tell me all about… whatever’s going on,”

“Sounds great!,” Monty’s voice is bright, almost a little too bright for this time in the morning and gives him probably the softest smile he’s ever seen before Hob turns into the kitchen. 

What the hell have you gotten me into this time?

[tj-dragonblade]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @seiya-starsniper and @kydrogendragon - thank you!

I have been working on stitching together bits of porn for round three of Mechanic Hob, so behind a cut this goes:

At last Dream's pace begins to falter, his panting moans stuttering into broken little whimpers as he flags in his feverish bouncing. "Hob," he whines, arse wriggling lower, his fingers clutching at Hob's chest hair. "You feel. So good, inside me—"

"Do I?" Hob breathes, fingertips brushing over Dream's flanks, and it's weak, so weak as far as dirty talk goes but he can't help it. He's enamoured, struck senseless by how into this Dream is, and words are failing him.

"Yes—" Dream squirms forward and back, circles his hips beneath Hob's attentive grease-stained hands, moans prettily. "Hob, please—"

He doesn't even have to specify, it's clear enough what he's after now, and Hob moves to grip him properly, to lift him just slightly. He clutches tight, fingertips digging in to what little meat there is on Dream's arse, plants his boots on the concrete floor and thrusts up into him.

Tagging, no obligation, etc: @teejaystumbles @the-apocrypha @five-and-dimes @chaosheadspace @staroftheendless @zzoomacroom @ralkana - if you've got something you're working on you'd like to share, we'd love to see ❤️

[just-french-me-up]

(In)somnia Veritas

Fandom : The Sandman (AO3 link) Pairing : Dreamling (Dream x Hob) Rating : G | 1.8k Tags : Angst & Comfort, Retired Dream, Post Wake Fix-it, Established Relationship Summary : No longer Dream of the Endless, Morpheus spends his first night as a human at Hob's, struggling with his new condition. He can not sleep. He will not sleep. How could he, when wakefulness is all he has ever known?

Hob had expected the craziness of it all to keep him awake. The Kindly Ones. The Fates. Daniel Hall. Dream of the Endless, now, for all intents and purposes. It all whirled in his head as he settled in bed, Dream―Morpheus' form next to him, already still from sleep.

Hob's gaze lingered for a moment. He didn't look changed. Even like this, very much asleep and vulnerable, his lips slightly parted in a shallow, slumbering breath, Morpheus still looked like the powerful being he'd been, mere hours ago. Human. It hardly seemed thinkable. Hob had been around for a while, and never had a human ever looked like that. Yet another rule broken tonight, it seemed.

As his head hit the pillow, Hob could feel the heaviness of the day weighing on him, a crown of lead encasing his head, a migraine he resigned himself to fight all night. Instead, sleep took him the second he closed his eyes, his body melting away, as though engulfed by a wave.

The rest was for Dani―Dream of the Endless to know.

It was still dark when sleep loosened its grip around him. Disoriented, Hob rolled drowsily on the mattress, expecting to meet the cold yet substantial shape of Drea―Morpheus' body, yet only found more sheets.

Confused, he cracked an eye open, his hand instinctively patting the empty space, as though he would find Morpheus hidden between the folds somewhere. Nothing. Hob's heart jolted wildly in his chest, pumping bitter bile in his throat. The Fates changed their minds, panic whispered in his ear instantly. They've taken him back. They could not let him be.

Slapped awake, Hob sprung out of bed, blood thrashing in his ears. I've got to get him back, he kept thinking. I must get him back. He did not know where to start, how to work out any kind of summons or strike any sort of supernatural bargain (those had a tendency to find him, not the other way around), but he would figure it out, he had to, he would even call―

His hand still tense on the doorknob, Hob froze in his tracks.

In complete darkness, Morpheus was sitting on his couch, his thighs pressed against his chest, still wearing the old t-shirt Hob had given him as improvised sleepwear. He barely seemed to notice the interruption. He barely seemed to breathe, for that matter. He simply sat there, statuesque, his eyes burning a hole into the opposite wall.

Relief flooded through Hob at the sight, no matter how eerie it felt. He was there. He hadn't gone anywhere. His hand relaxed around the doorknob, though his heartbeat had trouble adjusting.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

There was no acknowledgment of his presence, or answer. Still as a rock, Morpheus kept staring at the wall, his face blank.

Hob dared a few steps closer.

"Can't sleep?" he tried again, cautious not to startle him as he neared the couch. He considered switching on the lights, but quickly decided against it. It felt like one of those matters that were best discussed under the cover of darkness. The constant London light pollution would have to do.

"It's all so... silent."

Hob stilled, caught off guard by the sound of Morpheus' voice. It was still his, undeniably, every note, every inflection, but it missed... something. An edge. A preternatural depth that rose from the dawn of times, when the first being laid down and dreamt on its first night. A human did not need such speech. Like the rest, it now belonged to Daniel.

Hob approached him, electing to sit at the edge of the couch rather than directly next to Morpheus.

"You think this is silent?"

He had grown used to the constant whir of London life, every new century bringing new sounds to the mix, but there was no ignoring the myriad of dogs barking outside, the drunk students talking much louder than social norms would allow during the day, and the ballet of bin lorries and automated street cleaners. Could Morpheus not hear that?

"How can you bear it?"

Slowly, Morpheus' eyes left the wall to settle on Hob, turning to face him. Even with the lack of proper lighting, Hob could see his eyes clearly. Blue, as the day they first met. And full of apprehension about this world he'd never had to navigate this way, even though his pride would not allow him to put it in such words. This, at least, had been his to keep.

Hob stared at Dream, at a loss for words. If this was silence for him, what hellish racket must have been filling his mind until then? How could he bear it?

"It's all I've ever known," he said, settling for something that felt true, in his core. "I'm sorry. I imagine it must be... jarring."

"It is... unnerving," Morpheus nodded slowly, looking down, as though he would not bear to admit it while looking at Hob in the eyes. "Isolating. Empty. And at the same time..."

"Deafening," Hob supplied helpfully. "I understand."

Of course it felt empty, he thought. When one had spent their entire existence with the collective unconscious at their fingertips, dreams and nightmares echoing into their ears every second of every day, being severed from it must feel like having your head dunked into a bucket of water.

"It is no wonder humans devised all matters of utensils to fill the silence," Morpheus mused faintly. "It kept them from going mad."

Them. Humans. Hob wondered how long it would take Morpheus to see himself as one. Never, perhaps. He struggled to see himself as other than what he was, originally. The only difference between them was that Hob had considerably benefited from the change. For Morpheus, this was hardly a step-up. It was free falling.

There was an urge there, lodged deep into Hob's chest, to reach for Morpheus' hand, to hold him close, to offer him all the reassurance he could provide and then more. But Morpheus was not there yet. This human body ached, Hob knew it. It was new, unused, unacclimated to the world it had been thrown into. It looked every way the body he knew, the one he'd touched, loved, held, once. Not quite, though.

"We could buy you a white noise machine," Hob suggested lightly, pushing down the emotion down his throat. He was here, safe, it was all that mattered, in the end. Hob just needed to be patient.

Morpheus frowned, confused.

"It's a box that makes noise. Some people use it to fall asleep."

There was a huff, and the first hint of a smile on Morpheus' lips since their encounter with the Fates.

"Of course you people fashioned a noise machine."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Hob smiled, purposefully stirring the conversation towards a lighter territory. "Whale songs might be just what you need."

"I doubt it will suffice."

In spite of Hob's best efforts, Morpheus' playfulness was short-lived. His face closed again, returning to its persisting melancholy. Hob leant towards him, inching closer, assessing his lover's reaction, any sign of recoiling.

"What's wrong?"

"I fear I may not be... welcome to the Dreaming."

The admission rolled out of him like a wound, bloody and raw, almost shameful. Hob furrowed his brows.

"You're afraid Daniel may not grant you entry?"

"No, I..."

Morpheus gave out a faint frustrated sigh.

"It is no longer mine to rule. Dream of the Endless endures, outside of me. Perhaps I do not... belong there. My presence could be ill-received."

"Love, I―" Hob bit the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words that would hurt the least. "You will have to sleep at some point. That's... I'm sorry, but that's part of... this."

"I know."

In the darkness, Hob could have sworn he saw a tear trail down Morpheus' cheek, glistening in the light of a nearby street lamp.

"I'm sure Daniel will go easy on you. He's a good kid."

Was a good kid, Hob reminded himself. Daniel was an empty name now. There was no more Daniel Hall. Not really. Dream was what remained.

"It is a terrible fate I have delivered onto him," Morpheus countered weakly. "It would be fair on his part to torment me for it."

"Morpheus."

Unable to help himself, Hob rested his hand atop Morpheus'. His skin was warmer than usual, he noticed. Human. Instead of pulling away, Morpheus leant towards him, almost nuzzling against his shoulder.

"I have never fallen asleep," he confided softly. "Never dreamt. Not once."

It had always felt odd to Hob that Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, did not sleep. How scary it must be, for someone who had never done it, to surrender yourself to the hand of another, in your most vulnerable state. Scary enough to leave the bed and avoid sleep altogether.

"I could hold you," Hob suggested gently. "Whatever happens in the Dreaming, it can't harm you here, can it?"

"No. Not really."

Not the most reassuring answer. Nor the clearest. Vagueness was a Morpheus trait, then, not a Dream trait. Good to know.

"I would like that. You, holding me."

"Come here, love."

It happened slowly, inch by inch, but Morpheus nestled into Hob's arms, resting his head in the crook of Hob's neck. Hob could feel his breath blowing against his skin, warm, regular, vital. It was odd, but far from unwelcome. More new than anything else.

"How does it happen? Do I merely close my eyes and wait?"

"Essentially. There is a relaxation aspect to it, though."

Clearly something Morpheus had no experience with either, considering how tense he felt against him.

"You could... breathe with me."

"Breathe with you?"

The suggestion sounded ridiculous in Morpheus' mouth, but Hob was not so easily deterred.

"Yeah, just... just humour me."

It was difficult, at first, for Morpheus to follow the rhythm of Hob's breathing. He was going either too fast or too slow, as though breathing did not come naturally to him, which, in fairness, it did not. It was a conscious effort, every time. After a few minutes of off-beat inhales and exhales, they came to a harmony, their chests rising and falling in tandem. Morpheus had only been pretending to sleep earlier, Hob understood. He could see it now, from the way his face truly relaxed, how his body became more pliant in his arms. If he was not fully asleep, he was getting there, at last.

Hob smiled at the sight, pressing his cheek against his lover's forehead. He could feel Morpheus' pulse where he held him, strong, regular, and undeniably human. Yet no less the man he loved, in spite of the changes.

"Sweet dreams, dear heart."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling, knowing full well there was no one to hear, and no one listening, but he could not help but add:

"Let him rest, will you? I don't think he's ever done that in his life. Might as well start this one with something new."

[valeriianz]

I really liked your facial hair! Dream, if u wanted, could there be a part 2?

part 1!

While Hob was in a losing battle when it came to Dream’s facial hair, the Nightmare King-turned-human didn’t appear to have any qualms over the accumulated hair… elsewhere, on his person.

Not to say that Dream was completely hairless, before. He always had a thatch of hair on his pelvis, perhaps understanding that’s what Hob preferred? Or maybe Dream liked it? Hob never questioned it. But that would explain why Dream appeared so nonchalant about the additional hair currently growing on his body.

For starters, Dream seemed to enjoy the leg hair, curling up with Hob in bed and tangling their limbs, wrapping his ankle around Hob’s and sliding their bodies together, enjoying the friction.

The chest hair had been fun– Hob combing his fingers in wiry black strands in blind fascination– he’d never seen anything but smooth, pore-free skin on Dream before and didn’t know what to do with it. (He’d broken out of that trance real fast to nuzzle into it like a cat before fucking Dream and then coming all over his newly furred chest).

It was the stripe of hair, below Dream’s belly button, that was currently giving Hob pause.

Hob sat at his kitchen island, sipping on his morning coffee, and listening to Dream speak. 

Or, trying to. 

Dream wore a black tank top and a stolen pair of Hob’s flannel pajama bottoms, which were fighting for their life to stay on Dream’s narrow hips. Slunk low and exposing Dream’s Adonis belt and sharp hip bones that Hob loved tracing with his fingers and teeth.

Dream was saying something about the show they were seeing tonight as he stretched up on tiptoes to reach a box of cereal on the top shelf. Hob’s eyes traveled up from Dream’s gloriously firm abdomen to the tension in his bicep, resting his gaze on the flash of jet black armpit hair. Hob remembers how he’d been stunned silent, as always, by the underarm hair. Perhaps it was the transformation of Dream’s physical form, however minuscule, that got Hob all riled up. Hob was a strange person in that, he liked change. Reveled in it. If everything had stayed the same forever, he’s not sure he’d enjoy his immortal life. But that’s what made humanity so fun and fascinating… things were constantly changing.

And now Dream was, too.

Hob’s gaze shamelessly followed Dream as he moved, setting the box down on the counter and reaching up now for a bowl. Hob felt heat simmering in his belly as he took in his fill, the familiar coil of arousal beginning. He knew how Dream’s skin would taste; salty from sweat, but alkaline somehow, like seawater. It’s sweet too, cloyingly, like Dream was a delicacy to be sipped and nibbled upon, savored slowly and mulled over.

“Hob? Did you hear me?”

Hob hums distractedly as he blinks up at Dream from under his lashes.

The blue of Dream’s eyes seem to sparkle as he takes in Hob, gaze falling to the mug of coffee Hob still has his hand around, stuck to the countertop.

After a moment where Hob forgets that Dream asked him a question, he speaks up again, a knowing smile pulling up the corner of his lips.

“What are you so preoccupied with?”

“You,” Hob spoke at once, honestly. “I know I’ve said this before but humanity really does become you.”

Dream looked down at the bowl cupped in his hands and huffed quietly.

“How so?”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Hob managed to remember he had legs and hopped out of his chair, stepping around the island and into Dream’s personal space, grinning at the surprised, pleasant gasp that he made. He took the bowl out of Dream’s hands and set it on the counter. 

“Or, I could show you.” Hob finished, settling his hands on Dream’s waist, swiping his thumbs up and under the tank top, pulling him forward slightly.

“Mm…” Dream hummed, his eyes lowering in consideration. His own hands came up and set them on Hob’s– unfortunately– clothed chest, fingers twitching like he was making his mind up about something.

“Perhaps after breakfast.”

Hob swallowed a groan, pressing their foreheads together. He took another step forward, selfishly bringing attention to the semi in his pants and delighting in the sharp intake of breath from Dream.

“You love making me wait,” Hob grumbled, feeling a little pathetic but enjoying it nonetheless; how Dream seemed to preen under Hob’s impatience.

“I need sustenance, Hob.” Dream slipped his hands slowly up Hob’s shoulders and around, tangling his fingers lightly in his hair. He leaned in, lips brushing Hob’s ear as he spoke again, his low voice coupled with the words spoken making Hob’s spine vibrate. 

“My body is ravenous after the events of last night.”

“Christ, Dream–” Hob’s hips jerked forward of their own accord, viciously trying to hold himself back from crushing Dream against the counter and kissing him stupid. “You really do test my patience.”

Dream pulled back and smiled, sly, like a cat, before tilting his head and speaking again, tone light.

“I’m also quite sore.”

Something dark and possessive creeps up Hob’s spine at the words, spoken so casually with an air of pleasure. Because Hob knew Dream enjoyed it, liked the evidence of their love-making, being able to feel it the next day. He’d said so early on, when he was still Endless… that he would make it so Hob’s presence, his touch, would last, until Dream had Hob again. 

“I’ll go nice and slow then,” Hob murmured, sliding his hands around to Dream’s front and feeling that trail of hair below his belly button, following it up his sternum and combing his fingers through chest hair. 

Dream purred under the attention, lolling his head back and arching toward Hob’s touch.

“I’ll be so gentle…” Hob mouthed along Dream’s throat, peppering kisses along the line of his jaw– the stubble there scratching Hob’s chin and making him smirk, wondering when indeed Dream would allow the hair there to grow fully.

“I’ll open you up and take my time. I’ll be so careful…” Hob nipped Dream’s earlobe and felt the other man shudder, his very human heart thrumming under his skin. “You’ll be begging for it.”

That seemed to bring Dream back. Hob felt him swallow and chuckle lightly.

“Beg…” Dream said the word with a sour expression, getting his hands back on Hob’s chest and pushing gently, enough for Hob to lean back, but not enough to take his hands out from under Dream’s shirt. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me.”

Hob smiled so wide his teeth showed. He loved getting caught.

“You know, if you’re hungry–”

“Don’t say it–”

“-- I got something you could eat,” Hob finished anyway, laughing at the way Dream rolled his eyes, hard enough to take his head with it.

After a moment, Dream took Hob’s wrists and pulled his hands down, tangling their fingers together. 

“Will it pacify you for 10 minutes so I can resume breaking my fast?”

Hob hummed in mock consideration, biting down the all too satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Ah…” Dream grinned, and there was a sharp edge to it.

“Perhaps then,” he continued, turning away from Hob and back to his mission that was cereal. “... you can wait.”

Hob lowered his head to the nape of Dream’s neck in defeat, laughing.

“Tease,” he said without venom, nuzzling his nose briefly in the smattering of wiry hairs there as well.

“You love it.”

Hob hummed, winding his arms around Dream’s waist and nudged his crotch comfortably into his ass, smirking in victory as Dream accepted it, pushing back to meet him.

Hob exhaled a content sigh into Dream’s hair, lazily rolling his hips while Dream fixed his breakfast, pouring cereal into the bowl and following it up with milk.

“I do.” Hob conceded, watching and waiting until Dream ate the last bite of cereal before grabbing his arm and pulling him back into bed.

[mimisempai]

I want to make all your dreams come true

Summary

By asking a harmless question, Dream discovers one of Hob's deepest wounds that he didn't know he had. Fortunately, he has the power to help him heal.

Notes Completely inspired by the adorable BTS photos of Ferdie and dogs. As soon as I saw the 1389 one, I knew I have to write something.

Series : The life of a retired Lord of Dreams

On AO3

Rating G - 488 words

"Hob, may I ask you something?"

They were in the living room, as they almost always were in the evening, in their favorite position. Dream was lying on the sofa, his head resting on Hob's lap while Hob read aloud.

Hob replied softly, running a hand through his lover's disheveled hair, "I'm listening."

Dream said softly, "I'm surprised you don't have a pet as you strike me as a dog person. Haven't you ever wanted one?"

He felt Hob freeze for a moment, his fingers twitching slightly in his hair, but Hob didn't answer.

"Hob?" Dream called softly as he rolled over onto his back to look at his lover's face, where he was surprised to see a sad expression.

Concerned, he raised his hand and placed it on Hob's cheek, asking softly, "What's wrong?"

Hob, visibly overcome with emotion, replied, "Well, when you live as long as I do, you experience more separation, more loss than any other normal person. It's the same with pets. After my fourth dog died, I was so heartbroken that I didn't have the strength to bond with another one.

He shrugged, but Dream didn't fall for it, and he slid his hand over Hob's neck and straightened up to sit beside him. Then he wrapped his arms around Hob and held him tight, saying softly against his hair, "Oh Hob, my love, I'm so sorry. I was so tactless. I should have known."

Hob shook his head and replied in a muffled voice, "Don't apologize, you can't help it. It's my life and I chose it with full awareness of all of this."  

Once again Dream wondered how many times Hob had robbed himself of a human or canine or other bond just because being alone was more bearable than having his heart broken at every parting. 

But now that he was with him, Dream could change that, so he loosened his embrace, pulled Hob away a little, and asked gently, "If you had the chance to have a dog that would never die like you, would you want one?"

Although Hob looked like he was thinking about it, he couldn't hide the spark of excitement in his eyes at the idea, and Dream added with a slight smile on his lips, "If you're up for it, there's only one condition."

Hob frowned and asked, confused, "Which one?"

Dream brought his face close to Hob's and murmured, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "I still want to be the one who gets petted the most."

Hob chuckled against his lips, "Idiot," before kissing him gently, and when he pulled away, he added, "Condition accepted. I don't want my kitten to get jealous."

Dream looked offended, "Your kitten? A little respect, please. I'm not a kitten, I'm-"

"Dream."

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Dream obeyed immediately, pressing his lips to those of Hob, who knew exactly how to tame his wildcat.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝I

Dreamling Masterlist here

[aerodaltonimperial]

I cried through my therapy session today, I am STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME, I am fantasy booking and no one can stop me, but we all see what's been set up as a possibility here, right?

The Bucks attacked Darby and Sting after they won the tag belts. This was sort of the first "seal," let's say, to be released on the new heel run of the Bucks, and it was obviously a big deal since it set up the eventual retirement match. But it also set up Darby coming back as an anti-hero; he's well primed for it, considering he's always occupied the somewhat murky gray middle waters as far as morality is concerned, and they've loaded the magazine already so the fire makes sense. Darby and Sting were the first "focus" of the EVP Bucks, and it makes sense that they will call back to this now that the Bucks are established in the new Elite storyline. Even the poster for the match they made framed the whole thing as vigilante good guys Sting and Darby going after the evil corporate overlords.

Darby is currently alone. One of the big sticky points with Jack’s original summer heel run was that he was alone, because it's hard to run a story when you don't have any other threads to weave in. Darby is minus Nick, and that storyline is pretty SOLIDLY wrapped up, and he's minus Sting. Darby works in the ring well enough on his own, but he NEEDS people out of the ring to really land story beats well. They need to put him somewhere, and there's no obvious opening with Copeland sliding into HoB storylines.

They are setting Jack up to eventually turn on the Bucks and Okada. It's subtle enough now, but there: he is always slightly off to the side when they post photos together, they are essentially a 3+1 setup right now, and the way Jack is spinning the Scapegoat character will eventually come to a head against the Bucks when their priorities no longer align. He's definitely being written as someone who follows his OWN compass, and it's gonna bite the Bucks, for sure, when he flips. Given the little hints on social media, I WANT to assume that his flipping will eventually line up with Luchasaurus finally betraying Christian, which would give us all a REALLY AWESOME heel Jurassic Express that's rooted in "fuck the systems that are broken" and it feels solid.

But the Darby vs Elite story is there, hovering on the horizon. And Jack and Darby’s loop from the Pillars story remains open, indefinitely at this point: they made that big deal about Darby not trusting anyone and how Jack had finally gotten a bit of an in only for MJF to ruin it (and then a few months later, Darby was Mr. Forgiveness to AR Fox lol), Darby is the reason Jack didn't win the PPV (wouldn't hit him to cheat), and Jack is the reason Darby didn't win the PPV (Jack broke up Darby’s pin on MJF and they also made a big deal out of this moment in the match where they literally slapped each other like it was some kind of BETRAYAL). Nick is literally still Jack version 2.0 with Christian. Their stories have been hilariously close to each other for a long time without ever managing to overlap, due to extenuating circumstances. This current setup puts them in line for a potential collision.

I'm just saying that I, personally, would be fixed of all mental illnesses if Jack turning on the Bucks happened to come down when the Bucks try to take out dissenter Darby like they did Kenny, given that should Jack ACTUALLY say, hit Darby with a steel chair, he would be finally betraying the only person he canonically has not turned on yet. Would be cool if, y'know, he couldn't seem to do that. Again. And honestly, it would be really cool if Darby eventually aligned with Jack and, lets say, Luchasaurus, considering there was kind of a thing in those fall matches where I thought it was not impossible that Darby was gonna be the one to break that hold Christian has on Lucha. It would make a neat trio: a lot of unfinished business.

I don't know how long they are gonna run the new Elite. And I don't know how much longer Lucha is going to be under this thrall, but it's already been longer on that one than I expected, and usually when that happens, there was some sort of delay involved. There have been a good number of people out in the past half year, but Jack is really the only one there that makes sense. ANYWAY I am just fantasy booking to keep my mental health from crumbling before the end of the work day lol

[gabessquishytum]

King Time and Queen Night declared war on a smaller kingdom next to theirs for no other reason than they wanted more land. They declared war and to everyone suprise they lost. Badly. And so they had to give up a proportion of their land and send over one of their children as a war prize. They send Dream their least favourite child and a disgraceful omega at that, sure he will anger them into killing him soon and so they won't need to worry about their superior blood mixing with those filthy mutts.

A year later, the King and Queen are surprised to see Dream at the resigning of the peace treaty alive, heavily pregnant and happily married to the third prince.

(This is actually an idea of how Hob has a lot of siblings, and Dream is surprised to see how they are totally different from his own family. )

I love the idea of Hob having lots of siblings!! Maybe some are related by birth, and others are adopted. They're a mix of alphas and omegas, and in general there seems to be a very different attitude to omegas in Hob’s country. They're treated with just as much respect as alphas.

Hob’s siblings are all fascinated by the "war prize" that's been delivered. As one of the older ones, Hob has to hold back the little ones from swarming the poor foreign prince, who already looks terrified. Hob’s two elder sisters are already married and have many state duties to attend to, so Hob is happy to have the task of looking after the new guest. He rescues Dream from his little brothers and sisters and gets him set up in a nice room. Dream seems confused by it all. Why is everyone being so pleasant? Is it all a trick?

Dream doesn't really trust Hob until he seems him playing with the children - letting them ride on his back, helping them with a difficult lesson, breaking up a fight over a broken toy. Despite being an alpha, Hob is clearly an excellent caretaker, and he's so sweet with his younger siblings. All the children of the King and Queen in this realm seem so happy, like they really trust each other.

It doesn't take long for Dream to fall in love with the kind, homely alpha prince. He's surprised to find that Hob returns his affections - Dream has always considered himself unlovable, but apparently he's not. When Dream has his first heat in his new home, Hob is there with him the whole time... and yes, there's a slightly hasty wedding afterwards, but Hob’s family don't seem at all upset.

Dream is a very different person as he stares hautily at his parents across the room. He's sitting down, to spare his poor pregnant body, and one of Hob’s littlest siblings has nestled up in his lap, curled around his bump. Hob is fussing over him, never taking his eyes off his omega for a moment. Dream is quite clearly loved.

As he very much deserves.

[hardly-an-escape]

snippet: would you go along with someone like me? | chapter five

Square: E2 - Mutual Masturbation Rating: E Word Count: 422 Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Tags: college AU, non-traditional college students, don’t worry they’re actual grownups, poet Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, history student Hob Gadling, referenced character death, masturbation, mutual masturbation, more tags to be added Summary: Hob is a freshman history major and a first generation college student, while Morpheus is completing a graduate degree poetry. When they're crammed into a small room together due to a shortage of on-campus housing, it seems like an odd couple situation at best and a recipe for disaster at worst. But as the months go by, mutual respect turns into real friendship. And then... something happens that Hob never expected. Fill for @dreamlingbingo

This is a preview of chapter five, in which the something happens!

Toward the end of January, Hob woke in the middle of the night with no real recollection of what had stirred him from sleep. A dream, he supposed; it must have been a pleasant one, because he was more than half-hard inside his worn pajama bottoms. But the fleeting images remaining behind his eyes slipped away like grains of sand when he tried to grasp after them, so Hob shrugged and let them go.

He pressed the heel of his hand against his cock and considered.

It was utterly silent in the little room. Morpheus had been sitting up reading when Hob had gone to bed, but now his little light was off, and his breathing was smooth and even. Through the gap made by the broken slat in the blinds, Hob could see fat, soft-looking snowflakes falling in the orange glow of the sodium streetlight. He was warm and comfortable, cozy in his little nest of blankets. He felt like the whole world must be as quiet and sleepy as he was. He slipped his hand under the waistband of his pajamas.

His wank was as quiet and sleepy as his surroundings. Hob couldn’t even remember the last time he’d woken up hard, let alone felt the inclination to do something about it, so he took his time; reveling in the soft familiarity of his own touch. Unfocused fantasies of some imagined lover flitted through his mind: a snatch of pale skin here, a breathy moan there, red lips a little chapped. He was lazily approaching his peak, one hand stealing up under his own shirt to stroke at his belly and roll one nipple between the pads of his fingers, when he happened to turn his head to the side.

Morpheus’s eyes were open and fixed on Hob.

Morpheus’s mouth was hanging slightly open. His tongue darted out briefly to wet his full bottom lip.

Morpheus’s hand was moving under the blankets in an unmistakable rhythm.

A bolt of electricity hit Hob at the base of his spine and traveled up to his scalp and down his arms. Every nerve ending was suddenly alert, the hairs on his arms and legs and the back of his neck standing up as though he really had been shocked. He clamped his hand around the base of his cock.

What the fuck, he thought. What the fuck. And then he was coming, all of a sudden, like the ground had fallen out from under him and he was sliding down, down into pleasure.

This fic is a WIP! If you enjoyed this little preview, please subscribe on AO3 so you'll get notified of future chapters!

green = complete, orange = WIP

[doctorhouse5343]

Your Skeleton Grin (Chapter 2)

It was to the feeling of his shoulder being gently shaken, followed by a soft 'It's morning, my prince. You have to rise up so that we can check on your wounds, sire...' that Hobo Heart opened up his eyes to greet the brand new day, glaring up at the morning light that flooded his room as he slowly sat up in his bed.

A low hiss of pain soon left his lips as the bandages were removed, making the servants frown in concern as he tried to stretch his body to relieve some tension before being gently stopped by them "It would be best for you to avoid moving too much, at least for a little while. We shall take the time to prepare a soothing bath for you, young lord...No, no, we insist, sire." The servant closest to the white haired feline said, his tone resolute as he nodded firmly before continuing, with a serious and caring expression on his face "It's the least we can do to ease the troubles that the last few days leading to your unfortunate arrival brought onto you". 

Hobo Heart opened his mouth to object further as he tried to put on a loose robe but the discomfort that the action caused made him pause, sighing as he eventually relented "A bath would be a more pleasant way to start the day, I suppose" He muttered under his breath as he let himself be guided by the two bovine hybrids tasked with tending to his every needs, taking the time to thank them while they gave him a sweet smile, the gesture making him feel bad for being so difficult.

While the palace staff had done nothing but be kind to him, making sure that he was well and had all the best care that they themself knew how to provide best, all that he had done instead of showing his appreciation was to hiss at them, yowling while going up the curtains to search for a high place with his soft ears flat against his head but even then the servants reacted with understanding, fetching either the king or his consort Dream to soothe the nervous prince until he would grow calm again.

 Hob's gentle hold alone was enough to chase the nightmares that plagued Hobo Heart's sleepless nights for a while but the respite itself was brief, for the minute that he would fall asleep in his chambers, visions of his kingdom falling apart in his absence filled his mind, waking him up with a start before leaving him breathless and unable to fall back asleep afterwards. Out of not wanting to disturb the brown-eyed cow king with his inability to have a restful slumber, the prince would choose to stay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling until sleep would deign to finally whisk him away in it's treacherous waters, leaving his body sore and painfully tender in the morn.

Even though he was still a little bit apprehensive at the prospect of taking yet another bath, the sight of lavender sprigs in the bathtub's water along with the smell of jasmine that filled the room was enough to put him at ease as the bovine servants helped him out of his robe "You may take as much time as you need to relax, sire, just know that we are close by if there is anything that you may need or desire" The servant assured before bowing slightly and soon after the two ruminants stepped out of the room, leaving the prince to his own devices, not before giving him a friendly nod afterwards.

As he was now alone, Hobo Heart let out a breath that he didn't know that he was holding, slowly lowering himself in the warm bathwater with a relieved sigh before allowing himself to finally relax for the first time in forever. He then leaned against the edge of the bathtub, closing his eyes to enjoy the scent of lavender and jasmine that wafted through the air, his mind empty of all thoughts…until he was broken out of his reverie by a noise that made him tense up, baring his teeth as he was startled awake.

Ready to yowl and scratch at the intruder, Hobo Heart turned his head towards the would be attacker before relaxing, his ears drooping a bit as he was met with Dream's icy blue eyes "Fear not, prince, for it is only I" The raven haired cat said as greeting, his rumbling voice making the skull-faced feline sink further into the waters, as if trying to hide his shame while the other went on "I do apologize for the intrusion, I did not mean to startle you in any shape or form…Would it be alright with you if I was to join you in the water? If not, I shall wait, for your comfort is, afterall, of the upmost importance".

The king consort's peony lips then lifted up into a smile, letting out a small chuckle that sounded like pots and pans hitting the floor at the small, timid nod that answered his question "You do not have to be shy in my presence, dear Hobo Heart, it is simply a bonding experience" He said softly after his laugh quieted down, letting his robe fall onto the floor as he soon joined the younger feline in the bath, his gaze full of warmth and adoration as he looked on at the lad's bony and scarred frame, admiring the sight of the skeleton pattern covering the other's body.

Dream hummed a bit as he motioned to the white-haired hybrid to come closer, his hand gently starting to wash the young man's body while being mindful of his wounds, his smile broadening at the sight of the once tense prince relaxing at his side. While the raven-haired beauty continued to wash away the remnants of his worries, Hobo Heart couldn't help but lean in a bit closer to the other to further enjoy the hybrid's touch, forgetting the soreness in his limbs momentarily until a hiss of pain left his lips the minute that he tried to do so, earning him a look of concern from the cat ruler.

"I'm alright, your majesty, there is no cause for concern…I'll be fine eventually, you don't have to worr-" The prince's eyes widened at the feeling of the dark-haired cat's elegant finger tracing his lips, silencing him with his smoldering gaze alone "Do not be so quick to brush the matter away simply because you are afraid of being burden to my lover and I, dear one. Have I not said that your well-being was the most important thing at the moment, or was your mind elsewhere?" He asked, leaning closer to the other "I shall ask the servants to bring some soothing ointment to help the healing process along and to soothe your aching limbs, furthermore I shall be the one tending to them. I shall not tolerate further words of protests out of you, Hobo Heart. Have I made myself quite clear?".

The way that Dream spoke made the once prince's knees weak as all that he could let out was a small 'yes, sire', which made the other's gaze soften as he slowly helped the white-haired hybrid out of the bath before calling out to servants to bring in a change of clothes for the both of them, fresh bandages and the requested ointment before taking the time to dry off the male's scarred body while shaking his head in disapproval. After he had made sure that the male was properly dried, the king's feline consort took the time to apply the soothing salve to all the tender parts of his guest's body, rubbing it in gently as he slowly wrapped up the other's wounds in bandages, he was in no rush and was determined to care for the other as much as needed to ensure Hobo Heart's comfort.

After he had made sure that the feline hybrid was properly dried, the king's feline consort took the time to apply the soothing salve to all the tender parts of his guest's body, rubbing it in gently as he slowly wrapped up the other's wounds in bandages, he was in no rush and was determined to care for the other as much as needed to ensure Hobo Heart's comfort. Satisfied with the results, Dream soon helped the odd looking cat into more comfortable robes before leading him out of the room, the pair making their way to the dinning hall for a much needed breakfast where the cow king Hob was waiting for them, his face lighting up as his hands were folded neatly over his soft belly.

"It is good to see you awake, Heart. Please, do take a seat, you must be quite hungry at the moment…I made sure to select a few fruits that I believe you would like, along with some fish and meat" The kind ruler said with a warm smile, chuckling a bit as he felt his lover sit down on his lap with a purr "And how have you been, my sweet Dream?" He asked, humming a bit as his neck was covered in small licks and kisses.

"I have been quite well, the bath that I have shared with our lovely guest is partly the reason for it" The ravenette replied with a stretch, turning his head over to give the former prince a long look that made the latter turn as red as the strawberry that he was eating, the reaction getting a chuckle out of Hob.

"There will be plenty of time to tease him later, my little dove, right now it is time for the two us to take a small walk in the gardens. The weather is quite lovely and I have been looking forward to some sunbathing myself" The monarch pressed a gentle kiss to his lover's lips after he spoke before turning his attention to lanky hybrid "Would you like to accompany us, dear one? A little bit of sunlight would do you some good, I could also hold you while you take a nap in my arms, that is if you want to, of course" The brunette explained with a look of fondness "We want you to feel comfortable here, if there is anything that you don't want or that you do need, please let us know. We will do everything in our power to provide you with the best care possible, for you are loved here".

The last part of the sentence brought a frown out of Hobo Heart as he finished his food, answering the question with a 'no' before getting off the chair and making his way to the library, the one place that he would often go to during times where he needed to be alone to reflect on a few things, which happened to be one of those days for him. As he stepped inside the sacred space of all knowledge, the former prince felt all the tension of his body melt away as he went up to a shelf full of the books that he studied extensively day and night, sometimes even falling asleep within the library walls until his tired form would be carried off to bed.

Though this time he was determined to not repeat it, for he was a man on a mission, his eyes focused on the task ahead as he opened the books on the history of the cow kingdom, trying to learn as much as he could from the past wars that they participated in, the methods that they used to repel invasions while comparing the information to the sketches and notes that he had done in the past concerning the terrain, the fortifications and ways to use some of the previous methods in a way that would help during a potential raid in the age that they were in.

It must have been hours since Hobo Heart had first started his research, too engrossed into his work to notice the presence of another until he felt a hand on his shoulder, making jump with a yowl before glaring as he saw who it was "Please let me know next time when you plan an ambush so that I can be better prepared for it in the future" The white-haired cat muttered, his back facing the ravenette as he muttered a few choice words under his breath as he tried to regain his focus, growing more annoyed at the fact that Dream didn't leave and instead chose to stand by him.

There was a bit of silence for a brief moment, which was broken by the pale man's rumbling voice, one that Hobo Heart would have normally called calming if his mind wasn't so on edge "I see that you have managed to stay quite busy, though I am quite surprised at the subject matter that you took upon yourself to memorize". He mused, his icy blue eyes glancing over the parchments covering the table, taking one of them in his hands while continuing to speak "Have you gotten those done by the general of your kingdom? If so, well there is no doubt in my mind that your kingdom is in go-" The sudden yell of frustration that came out of the scarred hybrid shocked Dream, his cat ears drooping at the sight of the former prince sweeping all of the parchments of the table, his eyes blazing in fury as he yelled out everything that had been weighting heavy on his heart and mind.

"My kingdom is gone, your majesty! It had been doomed from the start and this" He hissed out, pointing towards all of the scattered drawings on the floor "was the only chance that I had to get peace for my people. This alliance was going to be the beginning of a new era, an age where we wouldn't have to worry about another invasion any longer, where negotiations would go smoothly and won't go awry because of my father's lack of diplomacy. But now...now it's all gone. All of this was for naught" The prince's voice faltered as he took a sharp breath, willing himself to not break down, to keep what little dignity he had left as he forced the last words out "A ruler is nothing without his people and have failed every single one of them. I have no kingdom left, I am not worthy of being a called a prince" Before the dark-haired beauty could get a word out, the distraught young man stormed out of the library, leaving Dream to carefully pick up all that Hobo Heart had swept off in his emotional outburst.

As he was left to ponder on the other's words, an idea slowly formed in the ravenette's mind, one that he felt was a sure way to give the former prince a purpose in the kingdom, something that would allow him to use his skills in the betterment of the kingdom and the protection of all of it's inhabitants. With renewed vigor, the feline hybrid gathered all the things that Hobo Heart had wrote over the years and marched on to the parlor where his lover was sitting and the look on his face had to have been a worrisome one, judging by the way that Hob spoke "Duck, what is the matter? What's troubling you, my love? Are you well?" The brown-haired cow's ears drooped in concern as he waited for his husband to speak but the concern in his eyes soon morphed to shock as Dream explained what had happened, not leaving any crucial details out.

When the feline was done, the bovine took a moment to compose himself, sighing a bit before speaking "I see, it seems that we both have misjudged how bad his situation actually had been, not to mention how deep the treachery of those closet to him but you mentioned that you had a suggestion to give me so please, do tell me. I would like to hear it".

After the cat consort explained his plan, the cow king wasted no time in writing out a letter to the best artisan of the kingdom to craft a very collar, stating in it that is was for a very special occasion, one of the most importance. As soon as it was sent, he sent out measurements along with a sketch for a custom-made dress that he knew that the tailor to whom he was sending it to would be more than capable of achieving before taking the time to send out an announcement for an event that would be cause for a celebration in the upcoming days, making sure that all of his servants and people were made aware of it.

Everyone else but Hobo Heart knew of what had been planned, he had isolated himself in his room shortly after his outburst and had made it known that he did not wish for any disturbance, that of which the royal couple understood and respected, sending out a few servants at his door to make sure that he was alright but making sure to enter his chambers as to not intrude on his privacy.

For the following days the former prince ate alone, preferring to stay in the library when he wasn't sulking in his chambers, the servants taking turns on checking on him to make sure all was well, the routine continuing on in that manner until on one sunny and cool day, Hobo Heart was pulled out of his reverie by a knock on his door. Feeling rather annoyed but not wishing to be rude, white-haired terror moved away from the windows before making his way to the door, opening it with a sigh as he muttered a greeting to the smiling cow-hybrid maiden standing before him.

While his mood was somber, the maid's happy expression seemed to be there to stay as she quickly announced "Good morning, sir, the king and his consort would like to see you now. No, no need to get change your robes, my good sir," The servant said quickly as she lead him into the hallway, almost skipping as she went on "they have already prepared something for you to wear, something that they have assured that you will love very much".

Confused at to what the servant's words meant but no less intrigued by any means, the young man followed the bovine maiden, frowning a bit as her tail swished in a manner that seemed either happy or excited about something but before he could ask about it the pair had arrived in the parlor where the royal couple had been waiting for his arrival.

After announcing his presence the maid did a small curtsy before walking out of the room, leaving the two rulers alone with their guest "It is good to see you once again Hobo Heart, you seem to be faring better than our last encounter" Dream greeted, lifting his hand to wave away all the words that the other feline wanted to say "No, there is no need to apologize, I understand that it had been a rather sensitive subject for you to speak about but you said, it gave me a lot to think about. Now before let my sweet husband discuss the rest with you, I would like you to have a seat before we get down to business".

Puzzled further by the oddity of the situation, the once-warring prince took a seat in front of the pair, his eyes darting between the two of them before settling onto the king, who had cleared his throat a bit to have the other's attention "Let me begin by saying I am deeply sorry for your kingdom's situation, it was a tragedy that shouldn't have happened but in no shape or form was it your fault. From what I have seen from your parchment papers, you seem to have the skills needed to not only train but also lead an army all by yourself, and judging by your scars and the words that you have told me on the day that you walked into the castle for the first time, you have done exactly that, which is what leads me to what my husband and I wished to speak to you about" Hob said calmly, pausing for a moment to see if their guest was listening before getting straight to the point "We would like to give the position of 'General Of The Royal Army', where you will be appointed the leader of the kingdom's line of defense, tasked with protecting the people and repelling all possible invasions that would come our way".

Hobo Heart's face went from confusion to bewilderment, what the king was offering him was something not to be taken lightly, he himself wasn't sure if he was up to the task but what swayed his decision was the possibility of doing some good for the kingdom that he had become a part of, ensuring it's prosperity by keeping it safe from threats of invasion. It was with was with a determined glint in his crystalline blue eyes that he spoke "It would be an honor to serve the kingdom with my life, your majesty" His words brought a proud smirk out of Dream, who then called out to servant to bring him the items that had been done for the occasion, his smile enigmatic as the servant walked back inside of the room, the two items that the ruminant hybrid was holding made the now soon-to-be general let out a gasp of shock at the sight of them.

In the royal help's left hand was a stunning black/red sleeveless dress with a skirt that showed off the thighs, provided with stunning knee-high black lace-up boots, gauntlets and a sword with a beautifully crafted handle and as if that wasn't enough, in the help's opposite hand was the one thing that must have cost a bloody fortune to make, not to mention the sweat and the tears that the artisan must have shed to create such a masterpiece.

"Your majesty, I have no words" Was all that Hobo Heart managed to say as he stared at the silver collar that was made specifically to fit his neck's exact measurements : in the center was a large heart pendant carved out of garnet, surrounded by small silver skulls with garnets in their sockets, his reaction making Hob smile as he spoke "All of these things that we are showing you are yours to keep, afterall a general needs to look the part. You may return to your chambers to change into your new clothes, you will need to wear them when you take the oath for the whole kingdom to see in the throne room". With those words said, the skull-faced cat went to his chambers to get ready for the biggest event of his life while the royal pair walked to the throne room, both of them certain that they had done the right choice.

As the sun slowly began to set, all of the cow people that could attend gathered around in the throne room, exchanging curious whispers amongst themselves. It had been a long time since the king had made an announcement where all the common folk where invited so the atmosphere was full of excitement with a bit of worry, more sounds of muffled conversations filled the room before it all quieted down from the lift of their soft-bellied cow king, who smiled as he thanked all of them for coming, stating the reason why they were all there was to show the entirety of the kingdom the newly appointed 'General Of The Royal Army', the news of it being received with wide eyed stares, all of them wondering if the threat of an attack was imminent but when their ruler assured them that this was not the case, that it is simply a way to ensure all of their safety should anything of the sort happen, they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

Smiling still, Hob then turned his attention to white-haired cat with a white skeleton pattern that started as a half skull on his face before going down the entirety of his blackish-grey coat, clad in a black/red sleeveless dress that was thighs-out, revealing the black lace-up thigh-high boots that he was wearing, steel gauntlets on his hands with a sword at his hip, the scars on the feline's body a testament to all the battles that he had faced head on.

Bowing to the bovine king, the hybrid knelt down on one knee in front of the kind ruler "Do you, Hobo Heart pledge and swear on your blade that you will ensure the safety of the people in the face of peril, fighting against all that adversity that may pose a threat to the kingdom, as long as you shall live?" The brown-eyed cow's tail swished as the scarred young-man lifted up his head, not budging from his position as he spoke "I pledge and swear on my blade to ensure the safety of all the people living in the kingdom in the face of peril, fight off all adversaries that may pose a threat to the kingdom in the present or near future, as long as I shall live, as long as I am able to stand and as long as I breathe".

 Hobo Heart vowed, his words bringing out positive reactions out of the crowd as the king placed a silver collar, adorned with a heart pendant carved out of garnet with small silver skulls with garnets in their sockets, around the other's neck before bidding him to rise, proudly announcing the male's title as the crowd broke into a cheer which didn't die out even when the General Of The Royal Army grinned at all of them, his own way of smiling at the moment.

As the kingdom was busy celebrating their new general, a blond feline was slowly dragging himself out of the warmth that the blankets provided him with, a sad sigh leaving his lips he put on his cloak, humming a bit as he then leaned down to press a tender kiss to the handsome cow-hybrid tavern owner that had been so kind to him when had first arrived in the cow territory before slipping out of the door into the death of night while still humming.

"Oh my little prince, it seems I was right all along : you do truly belong here, where your abilities will be a valuable asset instead of viewed as a hindrance…And I'll be there by your side, like I always had been. Who knows, maybe this time you will give the honor of feeling your claws sinking into my flesh" Corinth muttered in the cold open air with a grin on his face, pulling his hood closer to his face as he marched down the road opposite to the tavern, determined to make the castle his final destination.

I hoped that I managed to get the emotions right, also yay Corinth on his way to cause mayhem! *flops into an attic*

[ravennightbirt]

I was thinking about what @qqueenofhades said about the Secret Marriage au.

And now all I can think about is this:

They get married in 1489. Because Hob is a persistent mother fucker and Dream needs that. Their courtship is mostly through the Dreaming, because none of Dreams siblings can intervene.

And then around 1584/85 Hob gets tight lipped and nervous. Dream is concerned so he investigates. It is Lucienne who figures it out. Hob is currently courting a noble Lady called Elenore. Dream blows a fuse until Lucienne gets a word in. Turns out the only reason they are courting is because Elenore was pressured to marry some asshole BY. That asshole and Hob intervened.

Dream is still slightly pissed of by does have a conversation about it with Hob. They both get snappy, but in the end Dream agrees to meet Elenore.

When he does meet her Dream kinda hates to admit that he likes her. She is charming, just as quick witted as Hob and she is not impressed with Dream at all. She also tells him that she is very much in love with one of her maids, although she doesn’t mind Hobs attention.

Dream personally makes sure that she only has sweet dreams after that.

The wedding comes and Dream doesn’t attend although he shows up in private to congratulate and bless their marriage, because Hob is his husband and Hob is very happy with Elenore. Even though he won’t admit it.

Their house after that is very much full. Elenore and her love. Dream and Hob. Dream and Elenore. Jessamy and even Lucienne.

And then Hob calls Dream, he and Elenore are crying and so is Elenores wife.

Elenore is pregnant.

Dream doesn’t talk to any of them until Elenore is seven months along. And that only because she strides into the library and sits herself onto his lap, graps his ruby, telling him her opinion on his behaviour.

He tells her about his own son, kind of. Elenore Slaps him over the head (gently) and calls him an idiot. They talk some more and when she wakes up Dream is in the kitchen with her wife making food. Hob is nearly in tears and they all just stay in the kitchen all day.

When Robin is born Dream is there at night. Making sure Hob and Elenore can sleep. Only waking Elenore when Robin needs feeding.

Making sure they have the loveliest dreams. When 1589 rolls around Dream knows his siblings will watch him more closely. So they male up some big plan, and then Shakespeare enters the stage, and somehow it ends up even better.

Elenore is howling on the floor in fiddlers green that night when they tell her.

The second baby is a result of a long talk. A proper one. Elenore wants another child. Hob enjoys being a father, but they both want Dream to be in the loop this time. Robin was born from their wedding night, and very much not optional, but this one is. So they ask Dream. Elenore even offers him to father the child. Dream declines that and wishes them good luck.

He still watches over Robin. Hob and Elenore decide they will call their child Isleen if it’s a girls name and Reve if it’s a boy. Both names meaning Dream.

And then things go wrong. Elenore gives birth to early. Dream isn’t there in time to help, even though Hob is praying to his husband to please! PLEASE be there. But Elenore is still hanging onto life.

So that is how Death finds out her brother is married to Hob Gadling. When she comes to pick up Elenore Gadling soul, only to find her little brother put the woman to sleep. While looking at her challengingly. Daring her to stop him. Elenore takes her last breath while weeping in the Dreaming. Where Lucienne holds her.

Death let’s Dream hold little Isleen for a second, before guiding her away. She returns and hugs both her brother and her brother in law.

That night Elenore is given a chance, stay in the Dreaming forever or move one. One guess what she chooses.

I honestly think I would keep Robins death the same. Just a bitt different. Hob is still heart broken about the loss, but Elenore is still there, at least for him and he knows she will kick his head in if he neglects their son. So he keeps it together, helped by Dream.

There is no tavern fight. Robin still doesn’t grow older than 21. He is in love and accompanies his chosen partner and her parents to his father’s house when bandits attack. Robin who learned from his fathers doesn’t plays the hero. He just protects the girl he’s in love with. Refuses to let her get hurt. That is what kills him. It’s clean and fast and so far away nobody notices until they do not arrive and Hob sends people out.

After that Hob spends most of his time in the Dreaming holding Elenore and Dream. taking care of the Dreams. He only truly wakes when he’s ripped from his dreams. Elenores wife in shackles before him. People call him a witch. Devils priest. Hob pulls all the stops and makes sure that Elenores wife is safe and the people think he has been keeping her prisoner.

He gets drowned. He escapes. He spends the next 50 years in the Dreaming.

I don’t know how I started with secret marriage between the idiots and ended with kind of polyamory but I’m not mad. Elenore/Hob/Dream in a queer platonic way sounds amazing!

[avelera]

may I ask if in your 1589 fic, despite all the messed-upness of it and the hate sex and the consent issues, if there is some underlying love/care for the other (not necessarily at the beginning! but maybe as they keep seeing each other?). I only ask because I really really care about dreamling and while I love the more hardcore kinky stuff I can't really stomach it if there's no caring for one another at all at least buried deep somewhere in there with a pairing I care about so much.

It's totally okay if you don't wanna say/it's spoilers, I'll deal ^_^

So at the risk of spoilers, I will say short answer: yes, there is genuine care and love for one another (eventually on Dream's part but from the beginning on Hob's part) in this fic. It's not just vicious hate fucking and indeed, there'll even be some moments of angst and pathos mixed in around this point.

Long answer below the cut:

This fic has at its root a few deeper emotions beyond kink and hate fucking which emerged while I've been writing it.

From Dream's POV, it's not just that he hates Hob for being a vulgar materialist, it's that he hates that 1489 Hob who saw such wonder in the world and who had picked up a trade in printing books had pivoted to being a vulgar materialist. This genuinely hurt Dream's feelings for reasons he does not dare name, like his burgeoning crush on Hob. He wouldn't be this angry with Hob if he didn't deep down care that Hob disappointed him this much with his choices.

There's also a running thread of Dream not really believing anyone can actually stomach him if they knew him. He's got trauma from Nada, Killalla, Calliope, and Alianora sloshing around in his head in this fic and we're going to address all of it through the challenges he throws at Hob. Because really, deep down, this competition quickly becomes Dream trying to prove that if Hob really knew him, darkness and all, he'd never actually want to be with Dream. Hob surviving and indeed seeming to enjoy inexplicably all these challenges begins, slowly, to give Dream the barest hint of hope that maybe he underestimated Hob in truth and, maybe, Hob really is someone who can withstand even the worst parts of Dream.

For his part, Hob's pathos comes from the fact he's actually quite scared of getting married and/or falling in love again only to have lovers die on him over and over. Yes, his reasons for proposing are a bit selfish on this front, but he is sincere in his desire to share the fruits of his labors this past century with Dream specifically, since he sees Dream as his patron, muse, and inspiration. And if Dream accepts, then Hob never needs to worry about getting his heart broken again. Dream takes a dim view of this, thinking Hob's motives are entirely selfish, but over time we see how Hob really does care about Dream, darkness, sadism, bitchiness, and all. He really is, genuinely, into all the weird kink stuff Dream throws at him becaue Dream paying attention to him is his real kink, deep down, and this is what Dream can't possibly fathom. That anyone, much less Hob, would want Dream so badly that it doesn't matter what he does, they just want to spend time with him is incomprehensible to Dream (and, arguably, exactly what he needs: a partner as crazy and obsessed as he is).

This is MOSTLY a smutty comedy so I'm not going to say to expect "Giving Sanctuary" levels of pathos, but I will say that lurking beneath the surface of this story is how two genuinely awful people fucked each other to the point of becoming slightly better people, found out that they're kink-compatible, and fall in love despite Dream's best efforts. Because that's hilarious to me.