#Hob x delirium

[tiabritana]

Another Hobsbandverse inspired story. Please check out @softest-punk works.

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Hob turned the knob to his flat and stepped inside. He threw his keys into the bowl by the door- a pottery attempt by Destruction that Hob thinks was supposed to resemble a seashell- threw his coat onto the chair next to the rack- he’d have to hang it up properly later- took his bag and set it on top of his coat and finally took the bouquet of flowers from between his teeth and set them on top of his bag.

He slipped off his shoes, grabbed the bouquet and set off for the kitchen to grab a vase.

“Those are absolutely stunning darling, whoever did you get them from.” A voice purred from the direction of the sitting room. Hob paused in his search to see a pair of golden eyes watching him from the couch.

“My lovely spouse surprised me with them at work today.” He beamed deciding to play along.

“And who might this spouse of yours be, hmm?” Desire slowly rose from their perch on the couch to slink their way to Hob- who had finally located a vase and was filling it with water.

“They have stunning golden eyes, a tantalizing red smile, and can stalk their prey while wearing 6 inch heels.” He turned his head and glanced down at said heels Desire was wearing as they continued to come closer to him, then turned back around to continue filling the vase.

When they were finally chest to back, Desire wrapped their arms around Hobs neck, turning his head again and pulling him closer so that they could claim his lips in a welcome kiss. Hob moaned as Desire’s tongue swiped the seam of his lips but pulled back before the kiss could be deepened.

“The water’s about to overflow.” They whispered in his ear causing a shiver to run down Hob’s spine; before their words registered and he turned back around with a yelp to quickly shut the faucet off.

“Fucking hell” He muttered under his breath as he took the now full vase and set it on the kitchen table. Desire watched, softly chuckling at their husband as he fiddled with the flower arrangement.

“I’m happy my surprise was so well received.” They said as they headed back toward the couch. Hob finished his arranging and followed Desire stepping over one of the ghost cats who was laying in the middle of the room.

“Thank you lovely,” he pecked Desire on the forehead as they sat back down to watch the reality show they had paused, and headed towards the bathroom.

As he approached the door, Hob noticed the paint was a different color than it had been that morning, but shrugged it off as one of the siblings expressing their artistic abilities. When he opened the door however, he had to pause and blink to make sure he was really seeing what was in front of him.

“Uh- Desire? Was Delirium the last one here?” He asked, turning to look back at the blonde. Desire didn’t turn their gaze from the tv before letting out a noncommittal hum.

“I believe she and Despair were the last ones here, but were gone by the time I arrived.” And went back to their show. Hob returned to the scene that was still awaiting him in the bathroom.

Submerged in a purplish-pink viscous like substance the filled the whole room, a zebra-patterned octopus waved a tentacle in greeting. Hob returned the gesture and slowly closed the door, deciding that he could wait to take a shower, and instead walked back over to the couch and cuddled close to Desire. They wrapped an arm around him and let him cuddle into their side, their gaze never leaving the television.

“His name is Simon.” A sudden voice said from his other side. Hob craned his neck from where it was currently under Desire’s armpit to see Delirium now sitting upside down on the couch. Her hair was neon orange curls today that flowed to the floor with feathers sticking out from all sides like some sort of puffed up owl. Some of the slime from the bathroom still lingered on the jacket she was wearing. Hob hoped it would come out of the fabric.

“Don’t you think Simon would be happier not swimming in pink slime love?” Delirium pouted, but from the angle she was dangling it looked like a grin.

“I suppose he can, what’s the word when gravity doesn’t like you and you fly fly fly up to the sky-“ here she spread her arm out wide, “and drift with the clouds?”

“Float?” Hob answered, and she nodded her head and flipped off the couch and smiled in his direction before taking off towards the bathroom.

“Dreamy will probably let Simon float in the streams of the sea of dreams and shore of nightmares.” She danced, wiggling her hips and spinning as she reached the bathroom door. Hob smiled turning back around to rest his head on Desire’s chest, and closed his eyes and just breathed in the chaos that was their flat- and loving every second of it.

[fowjiyo]

Characters Sandman as text posts

[immacaria]

Fluffbruary: February 3 - Coast

Tags: Outsider’s POV; retired!Dream au (kinda); Canon Divergence; Fluff; 

  There is a little house at the coast, on top of a cliff and the people say that there lives an old witch and his companion. They live their lives quietly, keeping most to themselves, and go down to the village when they really need to. They are good neighbours, friendly with the kids, respectful with the others and, when someone needs help, their door is open all the time for everyone, tea waiting at the table and biscuits in the oven.

  One of them, the witch, is tall and pale, lean muscles covering his bones and blue eyes that seem to know anyone's secrets. He says his name is Dream Gadling, a joke he and his siblings had that had gone too far, but more than once the villagers saw strangers call him Lord Morpheus, Oneiros, Lord Shaper and Dream of the Endless. He is strange, but he is kind and his stories help to keep the kids' eyes shining and their laughs loud.

  The other one, the companion, is smaller than the witch, but his shoulders are broader and darker than him. His eyes are brown and warmer like honey, surrounded by crinkles that appear every time he smiles. If you ask him for his name, he will say it's Robert Gadling, but insist you call him only Robby because Robert was my father, only the witch called him Hob and their strange visitors called him Hope.

  No one really knows when or why they arrived at the shore. One day they weren't there and the other they just appeared, no explanations, no trucks being unloaded. They had just popped into the abandoned house and never left.

  Not that the village minds. They are a happy old couple who like to walk on the coast, hand in hand, and tend to the massive garden around their house. It was not unusual to see them walking on the sand, Hob leaning down every now and then to collect seashells and look at particularly interesting whirls of sand and Dream looking out to the sea, eyes closing when the wind surrounded him as if kissing his flushed cheeks. 

  The people they once helped, the teenagers they welcomed into their home say they are kind and love each other very much. It’s visible in the way they look at each other when they think the other doesn’t notice, the fond look on their eyes that tell them they passed through a lot together and still came out on the other side together and in love. In the way they treat each other, almost as if they know what goes in the other’s mind without having to ask. In this way they are never too far apart from each other, a touch away from each other all the time. 

  Even when Dream is watering the plants, Hob sitting down in one of the garden’s benches, they don’t look apart from each other, eyes crossing every few minutes. They are the type of couple that always knows where the other is without having to search, the one who spent so many years together that they know every quirk, every sound, every breath the other makes. The type of couple that almost doesn’t exist anymore, the type that stuck together through everything and now is simply looking for a quiet place to rest. 

  Sometimes, when life goes too quiet, strange visitors appear at the village, looking for the witch and his companion. Too tall women and men with teeth in the place of the eyes parade through the village, following the unpaved road that led straight to their house. They, like the ones they visit, are gentle with the villagers, not minding the questions only small children have the courage to ask. 

  “Are you a fairy?” Young John asks the dark woman with pointy ears and a raven on her shoulder. The woman smiles and nods, patting him in the head before following the road to where Dream waits for her. At night, sweets and a book full of fairy stories appears in his room without anyone putting them there. 

  “Can you see with those teeth?” Young Amelia says to the blonde man with teeth for eyes when his sunglasses fall one morning. 

  “I can,” the man says, hands stopping in the middle way of putting his sunglasses on. 

  “Don’t they hurt?” Amelia says, her little hand coming up to caress his cheek. 

  “No, I was made like this,” he whispers, voice almost too soft and eyes closed for a moment. “Are you not afraid of me, little girl?” 

  “No, not really,” She shrugs and, in a bold movement, kisses his forehead and smiles before adding: “I think you are beautiful and kind, actually,” the strange man stares at her for a moment before smiling and nodding, putting his glasses back on and getting up. 

  “You are kind, little girl, never change,” he says and leaves, a smile on his face as he walks to the old house on the top of the cliff. From that day and on, all the nightmares Amelia has weren't truly scary, but rather comforting and gentle. 

  “What are you?” Young Adam inquires one time, eyebrows furrowed and looking up to the new visitor. The person in front of him is tall and could be mistaken for a man and a woman at the same time. “Woman or man?” 

  “Both, none, woman, man or whatever you think I am, boy,” they say, golden eyes staring at him as they kneel in front of me. “What do you think I am, young Adam?” 

  “Beautiful as fuck,” He says and the being’s laugh could be heard minutes after they went away, the shock of Adam’s parents forever engraved on their memories. When Adam grows up, his beauty is unmatched and almost everything he desires he conquers.

  There are ones that appear more than others, like the little being with colourful hair that talks alone and appears like a different person every time or the tall, albino man with long clothes or the women with pointy ears and the black women with an ankh around her neck and black clothes. Still, most of the time, it is just the two of them, together in that big house on the top of the cliff, and living one day after the other happy and in peace.

[landwriter]

#jsyk i WILL be writing hob/destruction in the new year

YESSSSSSSSS

Listen you guys, my fellow show watchers, comic illiterates - listen - Destruction is great. He is GREAT. Here are some Destruction of the Endless Facts™ from comic panels*:

Tall

Big

Ginger

Okay but seriously - truly - he appears, right, in panels with Hob, and Hob, our Strapping Hob, our Soldiering-and-Banditry-Hob, comes up to his shoulder. The tip-top of his head reaches Destruction's shoulder. The man is built like a brick shithouse. The man's daily caloric requirements are 40 chickens or an entire cow, but he also seems like the sort who would refuse to buy meat from a grocery store. He's got a Conscience. He's a tender one. Terribly earnest, and less shy about it than Hob.

What else? He's terrible at art. Tries his hand at loads of it. Hob insults it. Lots of characters do. I think he's just not found the right medium or style yet. He is The Prodigal referenced in the show - he quit in 1718. He saw all the possibilities for destruction in Science and didn’t want to govern over That.

Like Hob, he confidently holds a slightly insane belief, and the rest of the world must simply bend around it. Hob's is that he won't die. Destruction's is that he can abscond from his post. He is not the custodian of destruction, mind, but its very embodiment. Just as Hob, a human, is the embodiment of mortality. Still, they both say. Not for us. You can't do that, say others. Just watch me, they say. I'll leave. I'll live. The other option is unbearable in a way that nobody around them seems to really understand.

I think Destruction is the most classic foil to Dream. He believes in the importance of change. Of self-knowledge. Dream is martyred to his function, and while Death counsels him to find joy in his role, Destruction would probably counsel him to fuck off for a month and take up ceramics.

Hob and Destruction are of a kind, and I think there's some really neat opportunities for tension between them, but mostly, I think, they would find the other one SUCH A BALM. A kindred spirit. Somebody else who wants more than what they were handed; somebody else who subscribes to the Church of Change; somebody else who is wandering, unmoored, who loves the ones they've left behind but couldn't stay; somebody else who is worried for Morpheus!

*i have looked at approx 4 panels this is largely vibes

[izzy2210]

i have way too much fucking ideas @evashuu @fellshish

[firemandeanbuck]

human AU where Morpheus is known for his last stunt in, the illegal backflip in the 2022 Winter Olympic Final. what people dont know about it, is JUST the morning before the final, his long-term girlfriend, theslmay broke up with him. he was in a very bad state, so he just said fuck it to figure skating coz its the one thing she made him love so deeply many years back. In doing so, he loses points and basically the gold medal that was so close in his hands. but he already had 4 medals, so it was enough. for a long while, he lives in a dark spot, weeks, months. he was on the edge. then, Theslay invited him to her wedding, with someone who she was seeing for 3 years, in 3 months.

Seeing him depressed, his sister Teleute (Death) tells him to move to with Mania (Del), in London, who is still afraid of her big brother. they embark on a very chaotic life together. At first, Morpheus was repellant of his sister, but soon learnt to accept her, as she shows moments of unexpected wisdom and sanity, and brightens up his depress world with her clothes, hairstyles to outing choices. One day, Morpheus goes to Del's antique shop coz he was bored. There, he meets a stranger, who mistakes him for a guest and shows him around, Del wasn't there. Morpheus was stunned by his fascination with old stuff and how much he knows about them.

He goes in a few times a week, always buys something and brings it home. One day, Del notices and tells him how he finds Hob. “How do you know?", del being del, shrugged and said “that trinket is from the part of the shop that HE manages", and goes about like nothing happened. nothing happens for 2 months.

Morpheus wakes up only to find he had 2 weeks for a plus one on thelsay wedding. every single one of his siblings flat out refuse. he unfortunately babbles that hob, who agrees to be his plus one. They practise jokingly to be affectionate and all. So obviously they have to go on a date and what place Hob chooses? a frozen lake for ice skating. Morpheus just leaves wordlessly. Hob fears he had done something wrong. because he lives under a rock, del tells him about the whole Olympics thing. So, hob tries to reconcile with him the best he can. He sends him silly videos of him and his ducks slipping in attempt of skating in the middle of night captioned, "might need a professional". hesitant, Morpheus goes to him and Hob tells him how sorry he is and may or may not love him.

They go to the wedding, which turns out to be a total disaster because someone messing with the wedding gown and the bride went face first into the cake. said someone also made a black velvet cake, knowing she HATES black.

After the wedding shenanigan, Morpheus teaches hob professional skating, which in turn makes him love it again.

[murphyoftheendless]

Sandman art dump!

[tiabritana]

@softest-punk for their Hobsbandverse series and @phoenix_queen on ao3 who put this idea into my head.

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After meeting Time and the ensuing argument that broke out between the Endless siblings, it was decided that Hob was not allowed out of their sights for the foreseeable future. Despite Destiny trying to be the voice of reason and assuring his siblings that there was nothing in his book about any repeat visits, the other six- yes they even dragged Death into the conflict, she felt guilty, like her speaking of their father had summoned him- tuned him out and formed time tables of who would be with Hob and when.

Hob himself gave a fond albeit exasperated sigh and just decided to go along with the whole charade to keep the peace, and calm his panicking spouses. And,he privately thought to himself, if their overprotective-ness helped soothe some lingering anxiety over his father-in-law’s visit, well, that was between him and his own thoughts.

It was currently Dream’s turn to mind him, and since the immortal was already sleeping with Delirium pressed against his body in the waking, they decided to spend the night taking a stroll of the Dreaming. Dream having co-created something or other with Delirium earlier in the day while Hob was out shopping with Desire, wanted his honest opinion on the collaboration.

“You know I’m not really much of an art guy dove, don’t know how much my opinion will matter.” He said, but he grabbed Dream’s hand anyway and let him lead him to a riff that was pulsing and flashing between a rainbow of colors faster than Hob’s human brain could keep up with.

As they stepped through the riff, instead of the riot of colors that Hob was expecting to see on the other side, all he saw was darkness. The sudden descent into the dark and absence of sight had him blinking a few times to see if his eyes would adjust to the unexpected change but nothing happened.

Dream’s hand still in his tightened, and Hob turnt his head trying to make out his husband’s profile through the pitch black nothingness surrounding them. He saw Dream’s star-filled gaze staring straight ahead, and fixed his eyes in the direction he believed the Endless was looking. After squinting for a few more moments and allowing his eyes more time to adjust, the immortal’s sight finally noticed twin faint lights in the distance.

He was pulled out of his musing of where they were and how they’d gotten there when Dream spoke.

“Hello, my mother.” He said.

Hob switched his gaze between the starry eyes of his husband to the lights twinkling in the distance a few times, trying to wrap his thoughts around this unexpected turn of events. He couldn’t believe his luck. Really what were the odds that he’d be meeting both his in-laws in a span of less than a week apart. Destiny definitely knew, he thought.

He was thrown out of his musings by an alluring lilted voice seeming to come from all around them at once, “greetings, Sweet Dream.”

As they walked closer to the source of the lights, Hob was finally able to start making out shapes and colors swirling through the darkness, along with more lights, that turned out to be stars. When they reached where the original source of the lights were coming from, they stopped. In front of them, sat in a pool of pitch darkness that rippled and looked to be made from the finest crushed velvet, was who Hob could only identify as the Endless’ mother.

She was big, was his first thought. He had seen a few of his spouses do the same at times, but never to this degree. He estimated she was probably the size of The London Eye with galaxies swarming around the parts visible to his eyes. She reminded him of Despair but had Dream’s black hair, flowing, and seemingly sucking in the minuscule light like a black hole from the faint constellations that made up her skin. The immortal privately thought Dream must have drawn inspiration for Gault from her, but would never dare voice his opinion knowing the prickly reaction he’d probably receive from his husband.

Hob was caught in his mother-in-law’s mesmerizing stare. Her eyes or rather what would pass for her eyes was pure starlight. She had no pupil and the sclera was locked onto him and didn’t move when she addressed her son. “So this is the mortal.” And though the alluring quality of her voice didn’t change, Hob still felt like she saw him as lacking.

“This is our husband.” The Dream Lord corrected. From the corner of his eye, Hob notice Dream was also bigger now.

Night scoffed, the sound just as enchanting as her lilting voice had been. “Husband.” She spit out the word like it was a disease. He suddenly remembered that the Endless parents were estranged.

“Um- Hello.” He attempted a greeting, but was ignored as Night’s eyes finally left Hob and instead pinned a look to her son.

“Darling, surely you could do better.” She said, voice softer when she addressed him. Dream’s grip on his hand at this point was bruising.

Hob’s inner monologue at this point took the opportunity to characterize the similar behaviors between mother and her children. Desire’s often smug and arrogant cadence to how Dream used to look at certain things with a dismissive stare to how Despair holds herself sometimes all reflected back in the figure in front of him.

The immortal still couldn’t properly see Dream’s face, but if he had to guess it would be carved from stone. The stars in his eyes blazed and Hob was sure he had a few broken bones now as the pressure around his hand squeezed even more. “My mother,” the Endless began, before he too was cut off by Night.

“I worry the pain you’ll be in, my darling, when he eventually withers away. After all, the heartache you’ve endured-especially with Orph-“ and here was Dream’s turn to cut his mother off. The fury radiating from him palpable. His own shadows stretched to mix with the darkness surrounding them, and his form lengthened. Claws now embraced Hob’s hand; more gentle than his human form’s grip had been.

“Hold your tongue, my mother.” Dream’s voice was soft, but the ice behind it let Hob know he would not let this perceived slight go. “Hob,” and here his husband stretched him name-as if to force Night to acknowledge and remember who he was. “Is under the protection of all of us. He is wed to all of us. Death spares her gift from him, he will not die.”

The immortal looked back to his mother-in-law trying to gauge her reaction. Her eyes, much like her son’s, was also hard. The starlight going supernova as she stared Dream down. The human could make out a faint twitch of her lips turning down, before she rose from her pool. The darkness cascading down, and Hob quickly looking away once a brief flash of her exposed breast met his view.

“I see.” Was all she said before Hob felt the floor beneath him give way. He stumbled, but Dream’s hold on him kept him upright. Blinking he found himself accosted with colors from all around. Ones he didn’t even have names for.

At the sudden return to light, and the sudden burning of technicolor assaulting his retinas, the immortal felt his husband finally release his hand. When he felt like he could open his eyes with throwing up his dinner, Hob found Dream, his shoulders still tense. His form still bigger than usual with shadows dancing across the walls from beneath his long coat.

Hob took a step forward, intending on pulling his husband close, when the Endless turnt and gazed into his eyes. “This dream is,” he started to say before Hob slapped his hand over his mouth. Dream’s eyes widened.

“I don’t think so, dove. We are going to hash out all that was just said. Either here,” he gestured around to the space around them, “or back in the Waking with the rest of your siblings, but we are not going to let you seclude yourself away.” The immortal said sternly. He removed his hand from Dream’s mouth and instead cupped his jaw, gazing into his starry eyes-so different from Night’s- and allowed him to see his sincere determination and love reflected within.

The Endless blinked and his eyes returned to the blue he often favored in the Waking. A sheen of tears gathering at the corners before closing them and bringing Hob’s body closer to his and allowing his forehead to rest against the immortals.

A shudder tore through him before he pulled back and allowed his gaze to sweep over his husband, checking him over to make sure Night’s realm left no adverse reaction, when his eyes caught sight of his husband’s swollen hand. He gently cupped it, bringing it closer for inspection before closing his eyes again and whispering, “Forgive me, my husband. I did not mean to harm you.”

The immortal was already shaking his head even before he uttered his apology. “Nothing to forgive. I might not remember much of my mum, but I do remember the wooden spoon whenever my siblings or I misbehaved.” His slight joking tone fell flat as Dream’s mouth turn down.

“That’s not to says she was abusive or anything, it was a different time then. Point is I know what it’s like to be somewhat cautious of your parent, plus,” he quickly added, trying to deflect the landmine he knew he stepped on by pointing to his hand, “it’s already starting to heal.” His hand was tingling slightly and the feeling of his bones correcting themselves was as familiar as anything after his many centuries that it didn’t even hurt any more. Just left an inch he knew better than to try to scratch.

The Endless gently let his husband’s hand go and resumed staring at the colors all around them. After a few moments of silence he spoke, “I apologize for my mother. She had no right to speak of you like that.”

Hob reached out to cup his face and said, “You don’t owe me any sort of apology on your mum’s behalf. I don’t care how she thinks of me. I’m married to you and your siblings and your opinions are the only ones that matter to me.” He leant forward and brushed a kiss across Dreams lips.

Destiny lowered his book, a shadow of a smile gracing his features as he looked out to his garden from the bench he sat at in his realm. All was going how it should, and they were stronger for it. Hob made them stronger.

[tryan-a-bex]

Butterflies; or, the consequences of sleep-deprivation

Inspired by Art by @paprotkarotka (in the text), and comments from octomom and temve. Thank you to @mallory-x for beta reading!

Read it on ao3

Hob had had a nice night. In fact, Hob had had a spectacular long evening with Dream. It was the part that came after that was concerning. They had started their Friday evening plans late, because Hob wanted to get all his marking out of the way first so he could really enjoy the weekend. It was, well, not so much late as very early by the time they dropped off to sleep, looking forward to a nice little lie in on Saturday morning. The alarm woke them what felt like a moment later, and was, in reality, only very slightly longer than a moment later.

So Hob was beyond bleary-eyed as they ran down the steps from the flat above the New Inn to see what all the ruckus was about. In fact, the fire alarm was blaring in the pub, and Hob quickly checked that there weren’t flames all about. Everything looked fine, except Dream, who was covering his ears with a very put out look on his face.

“Oh, love, you might as well go back upstairs and get some rest. I’m afraid I’m in it for a while, as the fire brigade is notified automatically and they’ll have to come check it out.” Dream nodded groggily and headed back up the stairs. Hob settled at the bar, his eyes on the door, and rang up 999. Yes, they were coming. Yes, they had to check it out even though he didn’t see any flames. Yes, he smelled a bit of smoke, but after all, it was a kitchen, and he wasn’t sure it smelled differently or more smoky than usual. Yes, he was possibly being less careful than he should be because he was so knackered. No, he was not going to wait outside the building. It was wet and cold out, and there weren’t any flames, after all.

Hob had been up since extra early on Friday morning; he’d gone in to work early to put the final touches on his presentation before his 8 am lecture. He’d been running all day, pushing to get things done so he could enjoy the time he’d set aside for Dream. He had enjoyed it, but he was pretty near the end of his rope by the time they dozed off. The ten minutes of sleep he’d gotten had only made him more groggy. He made himself a cup of very strong tea and hoped the fire brigade would show up soon.

By the time he finished his cup, they had arrived and he was awake enough to speak coherently to them. Using the codes from the fire alarm panel, they traced the problem to the electrical box. Sure enough, one of the fuses had some black smoky streaks above it. The firemen ensured the fire was out and not about to return and advised him to call an electrician in the morning. Hob thanked them as cheerfully as he was able, sending them off with a few day-old biscuits.

Looking at the clock, he called a 24-hour electrician and asked how soon they could be there. The forty minutes they promised was just enough time for another cuppa, and once again his eyes were appropriately propped open by caffeine by the time they arrived. It turned out to be not overly complicated, and Hob was thankful that they had the parts with them and could finish it up directly. Again, he sent them off with gratitude, looking forward to a nice long sleep in just a few moments. He knew he wouldn’t die from exhaustion, but Death did like to tease him when he pushed it so far she had to visit.

Hob left a note for his staff, and turned to head up the stairs to his flat. As he turned, the first rays of the rising sun caught his eyes through the front windows. It wasn’t so often he had time to enjoy the sunrise (yesterday morning had been dreary, as so many were hereabouts), so he walked over to the front door, opened it, and leaned against the frame to drink in the sunrise for a timeless moment.

“Hob!”

He jolted awake from where he’d been drooping against the door frame and struggled to focus his eyes at the sudden apparition in front of him. Oh, it was just his friends, Yor and little Anya. Well, not just. Yor and Anya were never just. They were like the main course of a banquet, or maybe the subtleties at the end, those fantastical, beautiful sugar sculptures that looked so fragile and tasted so sublime. They were like the diva at the opera who shattered the chandelier with her voice. Hob realized his mind was wandering and brought it to bear with some effort. Was he supposed to be babysitting Anya this morning? He wracked his brain for forgotten promises, but the racks were all empty. Bond was sitting at their feet, panting happily, he realized.

“Hob, I hope you don’t mind! I’ve suddenly been called in to work and I was hoping you could watch Anya for a while this morning!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Yor, I haven’t had much sleep.” Sleeping on his feet for a few moments didn’t count, Hob thought, trying to count how many minutes of sleep he’d had and utterly failing to math.

“Thank you so much!” Yor exclaimed, entirely ignoring his no, and handed Anya from her arms to his. He looked after her in confusion as she dashed off. He knew her job was sometimes demanding, even dangerous, but she must be in a lot of trouble to not even notice how incoherent he was getting. Well, she was strong, he was sure she could handle it. He muzzily realized he would have to call someone he trusted and ask for help with Anya. Maybe Dream was ready to wake up.

Hob struggled to pull his thoughts together, Anya giggling in his arms at his difficulty and pressing his cheeks together as if that would help. Then Bond suddenly took it in his head to run off. Hob wearily tracked his path, hoping he would come back when called and not need to be chased. Bond, he saw, was now sniffing happily at a black dog that was nearly his height but only half his width.

“Barnabas, be nice to the oracle,” prompted the slight, colourful teen with the black dog. Hob wasn’t quite sure, but her hair seemed to be the same bright colours as the many layers of frayed clothing she wore. Everything about her shifted and swirled a bit in his vision. He really did need to lie down soon.

“I’m not the sister you were looking for,” she announced as she came up to them at the door. Hob had no idea what she was talking about, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to ask any of the questions that were fallen half-formed all over the inside of his brain.

Anya squeezed his cheeks again, turning his head to look deeply into his eyes.

“Go inside, Hob. Anya wants peanuts,” she commanded. Peanuts. That was easy. Hob could do peanuts.

The brightly coloured girl and both dogs followed them into the pub. A brief coherent thought swam through Hob’s mind; he was glad they weren’t open yet, so the dogs wouldn’t be a problem. He grabbed the peanuts on autopilot, joining Anya and the young woman at the table they had settled at.

“You seem familiar,” Hob mumbled, putting his head down on his arms. What was that? Did someone say she was familiar? Why would they say that? Was that Hob’s voice he’d heard? Did her know her from somewhere? It didn’t seem very important compared to the mastodon in the back booth. Someone should probably do something about that, but it wasn’t going to be Hob. On the other hand, it was a really nice shade of purple, maybe they could keep it. Johanna would like it. Silly girl.

Hob felt soft little hands in his hair as he drifted farther and farther into sleep. He heard giggling, and was vaguely happy that Anya seemed to be having a nice time with that very strange yet oddly comforting girl. He felt like he was floating away, and didn’t really have a problem with that.

“Good morning, Hob,” Dream’s low, silky voice intruded on Hob’s vaguely unhinged dream of butterflies.

“I see you have met my sister.”

“Your sister?” Hob asked, raising his head and suddenly realizing how cramped his arms were. He frowned down at her, sitting on the floor with Anya and the two dogs, trying to get his eyes wide enough open to see who she was. Oh, yes, there it was. The family resemblance was not in physical form, but now that his brain was somewhat functional again he could tell that the familiarity he’d felt was because she was one of the Endless.

She beamed up at him.

“Hob, my loverly brothery friend! It was so nice to meet you in person, or in concept, if that’s what I am and also what you are when you are a person and not just a human.” She got to her feet and drifted over to Dream, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“It was nice to see you also, my dreamily Dream.”

“I enjoyed seeing you as well, Sister,” Dream responded, smiling affectionately. Hob did so love that smile, even when it wasn’t directed at him.

“I have to go, because goIng and time are well met, and so are you, Anya, my penguin. You may keep the butterflies.” With that, the teen wandered to the door, the black dog following after her. Hob would have thought it looked grumpy, if dogs could look grumpy.

“Penguin? Butterflies?” Hob asked Anya. He turned to Dream.

“Your sister?”

“Yes, my sister Delirium,” Dream replied. “Hob, I think you should get some more sleep. If you were tired enough to call Delirium, you will need more time to recover. I will watch Anya. Anya, wave your hand to call your butterflies over.”

Hob looked around curiously as Anya beckoned with her hand. He didn’t see any butterflies. Thankfully the purple mastodon was gone too. Then he felt the lightest touch in his hair, and looked up to see a small cloud of tiny pink butterflies arising from his head. Anya watched in delight as they flittered over to her and settled on her clothes and hair.

“Go to bed, Hob,” Dream reiterated, and Hob was only too glad to obey.

The story started with Space Buns.

Previously, Anya meets Dream.

Next, Halloween.

[mollymagician]

Felt like doodling a Del today. A doodle for a drabble that was fanfiction of someone else’s fanart 😅

[naive-daydreamer]

What if we rewrite the stars... (Say you were meant to be mine).

Type: Fanfic.

Rated: M.

Chapters: 13/?.

Tags: too many to count / as much as ao3 let me.

Part 1 of the series: “To dream is to defy, and to defy is to dream”.

Written by: defianceoftheendless

read here on ao3

What was the saying? Ah, yes, dreaming doesn't cost anything.

Well, what if it turned out that the concept of dreaming was much more than a concept? What if it was, in turn, a man behind glass, and there was once a girl who tried to set him free?

That girl's name was Esther Carrasco, and it turned out that dreaming cost her everything.

•

Where a new entity, known as the Defiant of Destinies, emerges from the spilled blood of a dreamer.

[ihatecoconut]

Lucy in the sky with Diamonds [Chapter 7]

Also on ao3!

Delirium pops back up a few days later, orange hair with one side shaved off but grown out enough to be fuzzy. It’s a Monday, so the New Inn is closed for the day and Hob is just doing some (admittedly unnecessary) handy work.

“Hi.”

“Hello. You’re back.”

Delirium nods and then, in a slightly more secretive tone, “Dream doesn’t know.”

Hob laughs, pulling himself out from under the sink and dusting off the dirt that he’s gotten himself covered in. “Yeah, he seemed a little upset last time.”

“Protective.” She supplies.

Hob frowns, confused.

“We’re not supposed to hold onto you for too long,” she explains, swinging her legs back and forth, “otherwise Dream gets mad.”

Hob leans on the bar as he processes this. “The reason I have such a high metabolism when it comes to drugs and alcohol is because… you’re scared of your brother?”

“Not scared.”

“But you… don’t want to make him mad.”

Delirium shrugs. “Death says he won’t admit—” she cuts herself off. “Nothing.”

Hob waits to see if she’s going to change her mind, and she focuses on the slightly dent in the wood of the bar. “OK. Maybe don’t imply that he wants to kiss me though? I think it made him uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Because he left quite soon after.” He swallows down on the part of himself that’s been in love with his stranger for longer than he could ever count, prevents the painful rejection from overtaking him and ignores any fantasies of them living a happy life together.

Delirium hums.

“And, I mean…” he pauses, gathering up the tools, “no offence, but it came from you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I mean, the idea that he might love me back is one of my delusions, right?”

She doesn’t say anything for a very long time, almost to the point that Hob is expecting her to be gone when he turns around again – she’s not, still sitting on the bar and her eyes are slightly clearer than normal, like she’s trying very hard to focus.

“Death told him once that ‘You can have your pride, or you can have the joy of close, loving relationships.’ Because he’s bad at that.” The way she mimics a voice he doesn’t know does make him want to laugh, but the random topic change is confusing him too much.

“I am sensing a ‘but’ here.” Hob tells her.

She shrugs. “You too. You hide too much of yourself from everyone.”

“To protect myself.”

“He already knows everything.”

“I know that.” The misery at having everything he wants dangled in front of him bites out at her as anger and he immediately feels guilty about it. “Sorry, I just…”

“We’re not just our names.” She tells him, instead of responding to that.

He rubs his forehead and tries to follow the threads of a conversation that keeps jumping around, “Oh?”

“We’re also the opposite, so Despair is also hope and Death is also life and Dream is also reality, you know?”

When he looks up, she’s watching him closely, waiting for him to understand something. He isn’t quite sure what, but the next question seems obvious.

“What’s your opposite?”

“It used to be sadness, very simple, and it kind of still is but now it’s actually truth.”

Hob rubs very hard at the bridge of his nose. “So you are also Truth?”

She shrugs. “Or lucidity.”

He looks back up at her, the focused look in her eyes is starting to slip away again, but he thinks he understands what she means.

“You can’t see what people want?”

“Dream can. And Desire.”

He shelves that thought hurriedly before it distracts him. “But you can see… truth? And delusions?”

“Mmhm.”

“Just my truth?”

“Truth does not change.” A voice says from behind him.

Hob turns around so fast that he nearly hits his head on the same sink he had been failing to fix. “Dream.”

Dream nods at him in acknowledgement, but his attention is focused on Delirium. “Sister, you seem tired.”

The lucidity has completely gone from her eyes now, and her irises look a little like kaleidoscopes, which Hob decides is probably not a good thing to focus on.

“Tired.” She repeats.

Dream takes a cautious step towards her. “Is there a truth you need to share?”

“The Book can change.” She replies, vacant and floating a few inches above the bar top. “He can change it.”

And then she’s gone, leaving Hob and Dream alone in the bar with many things to think about – Dream probably more than Hob, considering that he has no idea what the Book is – but instead of voicing any of his questions, Hob looks up into the face of his oldest friend.

“You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Dream’s expression goes slack with surprise for a few moments, and he kneels down to be at the same level. “If I wanted?”

“Well, I want,” Hob tells him, “and I’m willing to share.”

The tiny smile that he has coveted for centuries makes a reappearance, but Dream does not lean in to kiss him like he hoped.

“You are filthy.”

He looks down at himself and laughs. “Yeah. Kiss me when I’m clea—”

Dream cuts him off with his mouth, leaning forward with so much force that Hob does hit the back of head on the sink, but he doesn’t let Dream pull away, even as he can feel the shape of an apology on his lips.

“This is good too,” he mumbles, sliding a hand round into Dream’s hair – it’s as soft as he always imagined, “you could join me while I clean up?”

This time Dream does pull away. His pupils have expanded to show galaxies within them and Hob is fascinated.

“I would like that. Very much.”

“OK.” He can’t stop smiling. “Never done it in a shower before, but I’m willing to try anything once.”

[darjeelinh]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dream of the Endless & Hob Gadling, Death of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus & Lucien | Lucienne, Desire of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Destruction of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Despair of the Endless & Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Destiny of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus & Matthew the Raven, Dream of the Endless & Matthew the Raven, Calliope/Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless/Nada, Calliope/Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus & Orpheus (The Sandman), Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Delirium of the Endless & Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless/Alianora Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless | Daniel, Destiny of the Endless, Death of the Endless, Desire of the Endless, Despair of the Endless, Destruction of the Endless, Delirium of the Endless, Nada (The Sandman), Alianora (The Sandman), Calliope (The Sandman), Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman), Matthew the Raven, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: The Sandman (Comics) Spoilers, Post-Canon, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, there is a happy ending i promise, Purgatory, Character Study, Prose Poem, Post-The Wake (Sandman) Summary:

In Death’s waiting room sat her brother.

or, after the Wake, Dream is stuck in purgatory. He had to confront his regrets before he could move on.

[gabessquishytum]

(Human au) Chubby Hob going to meet his boyfriend’s siblings for the first time, and he’s nervous.

At this point he’s quite settled and comfortable with the fact that Dream finds him and his size incredibly sexy, but Hob is fully aware that this is not universally agreed with. He’s worried that Dream’s family will judge him poorly for his attraction to someone like Hob, or even use Hob’s weight as the start of some sibling shit-stirring.

Except when they arrive to the Endless family home, the first one to greet them is Desire, who gives Hob a very blatant once-over, before stating with unmistakable envy “Dream, you lucky bastard.”

That’s the most vocal response he gets, but to Hob’s bewilderment (and Dream’s pride), it’s made clear very quickly that every single one of the Endless siblings also finds him and his size incredibly sexy.

It’s up to you if this visit results in Hob x Endless Siblings, or if Hob simply leaves afterwards having very complicated feelings about the fact that apparently his boyfriend’s attraction to his fat is somehow genetic. Either way, Dream is disgustingly smug the entire time about finding Hob first.

-🪽anon

We love chubby Hob, we love chubby Hob being appreciated!!!!

This is such a nice idea. I'm imagining that at some point, Despair ends up talking to Hob and she's like "yeah I had to educate all my siblings on fat liberation and I swear to god if any of them were fatphobic I'd start smacking them, I just didn't anticipate that my lectures would make them appreciate fat people quite as much as this........ welcome to the family lol." And Hob is nothing but grateful for the fact that Despair has apparently hardwired all her siblings to be very respectful and admiring of his body type.

The best thing is none of the siblings are weird about him being fat. Nobody explicitly comments on his body at all. Which is nice, because Hob has been with people in the past who were attracted to his fatness in an almost creepy way, like it was the only interesting thing about him. The Endless siblings aren't like that at all. They just make him feel desirable and sexy and welcomed, making sure that he has a nice time, that he has lots of nice food and drinks. They all pay him attention in a way that makes him blush... but he's not uncomfortable in the least. He kind of likes how he feels when the siblings sigh that they're all still single, while Dream has found such a gorgeous man...

He feels right at home there on the sofa, with Dream’s arms possessively wrapped around him (and hands sneaking under his jumper to enjoy the soft pillow of his belly). Despair and Destruction are squeezed onto the sofa too and its warm and cozy. Death pats Hob’s head in a friendly gesture as she hands out drinks. Destiny tries to teach Delirium how to play a card game. Desire actually has their head in Hob’s lap, as they're splayed out all across the sofa like a contented cat.

Hob feels safe. And he knows for sure that he is loved. If Dream wants to show him off in the future, well... he certainly wouldn't be opposed to that!

[tiabritana]

Now on AO3

For @softest-punk who’s hobhusband verse I read for the thousandth time today and got inspired. Here’s Hob meeting one of his in-laws

————————————————————————

It was one of the rare times that Death was able to get away from her busy schedule for more than a few moments, and Hob was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They were currently the only two in the flat and were spending time together at the kitchen table drinking some local ale that Moira gifted him over the holidays when a thought popped into Hobs mind. He never really gave it much thought before-assuming that as with most things in the beginning- his gift was from Dream, and that was that. With the arrangement now, and knowing that prior assessment to be false, Hob turned to Death and pondered how to ask his question.

“Yes?” Death asked, seeing his stare.

“I was just wondering how I stayed the same age after all these years.” He started setting his mug down and playing with his fingers. “I just never really thought about it before, but your gift prevents me from dying, so how do I still look young.”

Death was silent for a bit, playing with her own mug, swirling the liquid around as she pondered his question.

“I never really thought of it much,” she finally admitted. “When I first made the wager with Dream, I just wanted him to see the beauty of humans. You all are-especially you-,” she paused and gave him a warm look, reaching between them to gently grab his hand from where he was still fiddling with them, “so full of life. I just wanted him to understand.” She stopped and shrugged, and Hob understood what she didn’t say. By now they all knew that Dream was in a bad place for a long time and was just starting to see that there was more to life than just his function.

“Anyway, if I had to guess I assume that Father had something to do with your preserved form.” She took back her hand to instead cup her mug and bring it to her mouth to take a long gulp.

Hob stared at the column of her neck admiring as he thought about what she said. He never gave much thought to the Endless parents as none of his spouses liked to talk about them. The closest being Delirium’s nonsensical musings about there being a black hole inside her sometimes, and the twins sharing a look.

“Why would he grant my body stasis- for lack of a better word?” He asked. His musings were starting to give him a headache the more he tried to wrap his head around the subject.

Death shrugged again, putting her now empty mug down. Hob pushed his half drunk glass towards her. He didn’t think drinking anymore would help with his burgeoning headache.

Just as she was finishing his mug, Death turnt her head and gazed off into distance with her ear cocked, listening to something Hob couldn’t hear.

“I got to go,” she said as she stood up. Hob got up and leaned towards her to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll see you later love.” And watched as her great wings took her off to her next appointment.

“She’s right you know.” Hob quickly whipped around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice in his now not so empty flat. Standing behind him was a young man with bright red hair-looking just like Destruction. Hob wet his lips, suddenly wishing he didn’t give Death his drink as the man changed forms into a wizen old man. He instinctively knew who was standing before him even though this was his first time meeting the being; and wondered if this had anything to do with the flat being on the border of the the Endless siblings realms.

The being-Time-circled around Hob, making him feel like a sculpture on display. He swallowed down his sudden feeling of inadequacy and smiled what he hoped was a welcoming grin. “Hel-,” he was cut off before he could finish the greeting.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” His tone not giving anything away as he continued his perusal. Hob fought the urge to wipe his sudden sweat coated palms on his trousers, and instead met his father-in-laws eyes as he finally circled back to the front.

“I don’t like company, even from my own children, but I do keep an eye on them from time to time.” At the last part his lips twitch up, reminding Hob of Destiny when he managed to make him smile. His form shifted again, turning him into a small red headed child, though the intense look in his eyes didn’t change.

“I watched that day Death and Dream made that wager, and knew how important you’d be.” He stopped and stepped closer to Hob, his form shifting again to a baby, small tufts of red hair and a cherub face. Hob looked down and wondered how this didn’t even make it into his top ten list of weird things to happen to him in the last decade alone. “Imagine my surprise when the least likely timeline overwrote what the Fates had in store for Dream and changed Destiny’s Book.”

Hob swallowed, “uh-,” and once again was cut off from whatever he was about to say.

“Thank you.” The words were softly spoken as Time shifted again, his form now a middle again man with white streaking into his red hair and beard. He finally tore his eyes from Hob, who let out an inaudible sigh as the pressure he didn’t know was slowly suffocating the room disappeared.

When he looked back up, a shadow flashed over the man’s face making him look every eon he was. Hob blinked and the being was gone. As silence slowly descended he heard the knob on the door turning and Destruction emerged from the rain, red hair dripping and boots creating puddles in the entry way. He had shop bags in his great arms as he slowly looked a Hob’s gobsmacked face after shutting the door.

“You okay love?” He asked. He walked around Hob to deposit the bags onto the counter, but stopped and turned to face him again when he received no response. Setting the last bag down Destruction walked over to Hob and took his hands into his own larger ones.

That finally seemed to shock Hob out of his catatonic state. “I think your father approves of me.”

Destruction just stared at him as Hob let go of his hands and wandered the few paces to the kitchen counter to peak into the bags the redhead had left there. “What’s for dinner?” He asked unaware of the stunned expression his blasé response brought.

Needless to say, dinner was late after Destruction called his siblings and they all ended up talking over one another, save Destiny who sat on the couch with a small smile on his face as he read from his Book-Hob sitting beside him as he let his soothing presence help his now migraine- and handed him an aspirin and a glass of water.

[tryan-a-bex]

Fathers and Sons

This is for Ouiche. Read it on ao3. Why is Destruction called Joe?

Hob stretched his arms in the beautiful early spring sunshine. Dream’s brother Joe and sister Del were visiting, with Del’s dog Barnabas. They’d agreed together to visit the nearby dog park, ostensibly so Barnabas could run a bit, but actually to get Del away from the New Inn’s patrons. She tended to augment the effects of alcohol unexpectedly, with sometimes undesirable results especially if Joe was also present (Hob had seen enough bar fights, and it was too early in the day to deal with that). No, he’d much rather be here, sitting on the bench between Joe and Dream, while Dream desultorily scattered the bird seed Hob had persuaded him to purchase instead of bread for the crows and pigeons, and occasional seagull, chipmunk or squirrel. 

“Hob! Dream!” An excited squeal drew his attention as a rambunctious five year old with pink ponytails charged toward them, followed closely by a big white dog and less closely by a tall slim white man with tidy blond hair.

“Anya! Bond! Loid!” Hob greeted them with a smile, as Dream held back his grumble about the birds scattering.

“Borf!” Bond greeted him back, as Hob scratched his head.

“Anya came to play in the dog park! Look, Bond! There’s Del and Barnabas!” Anya and Bond took off again for Del, as Loid drew up to the group and nodded his greeting. 

“Joe, this is our friend, Loid Forger,” Hob introduced. “Loid, this is Dream’s brother, Joe.” Loid and Joe nodded and smiled, handshakes and air kisses having mostly disappeared after Covid. 

“Actually, if you don’t mind,” Loid said, glancing at Joe and then looking at Dream, “I have a question for you.” Joe and Dream both nodded permission, Hob’s eyebrows rising in curiosity.

“It’s been very different around our home since we learned Anya’s secret. How did you get her to tell us?”

“Ah, yes,” Dream began. “She was writing about the visit to the aquarium, and she revealed to me how much danger she was in because she tried to help you with your work, and how Yor saved her. I merely told her of a time I was in danger, and how, if I had not been keeping so many secrets from Hob, he would have been able to help me.” He paused to gaze adoringly at Hob for a moment, then turned to Loid again. “She’s very bright and saw the point immediately. Truly, your work and Yor’s in gaining her trust had done most of the work already. Apparently, she had not had any trustworthy adults in her life before you.”

Loid sighed. “Yes, it’s true. The orphanage where I found her was very grey and dim, and I can only hope she doesn’t have many memories from the time before that.  We are so happy we can give her a chance at a real childhood, one where she is taken care of rather than having to take care of herself and everyone else too.”

Joe turned to look at Anya and Del, and laughed at the sight of them gamboling in the sunshine with their dogs. “She looks happy and carefree today!” he observed. 

Loid smiled in quiet pride. Hob wondered if he’d admitted to himself yet how besotted he was with his family.

“Well,” he confessed, “today she is helping me with my work again! We are meeting her classmate here to play, and his father is someone I’ve been looking forward to talking to for quite some time!”

Just then, Hob was distracted by two sleek, dark cars pulling up at the entrance to the park. From the first, a tall, severe man emerged, followed by a young boy and an older one holding a dog in his arms. The older boy put the dog down and released his leash as two security persons exited the second car. 

“Damian!” Anya yelled, running for the group with Del in tow. Hob noticed with amusement how the older boy’s interest was piqued by Del. He was just the age to notice someone her apparent age.

“Over here!” Loid waved to the newcomers with a friendly smile. The man watched his sons greet Anya and Del for a moment, then turned toward Loid as his security found unobtrusive stations from which to observe the park.

“Loid Forger,” he nodded on reaching them. 

“Mr. Desmond,” Loid nodded back. “These are my friends, Hob and Dream, and their brother Joe.” 

“Please, call me Donovan,” he requested, and Hob watched Loid carefully not let his jaw drop. 

“Of course, Donovan,” Loid responded smoothly. “Thank you for bringing Damian to play with Anya.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.” If Loid wasn’t a spy, Hob thought, he would have staggered at that. As it was, it was only Hob’s hundreds of years’ experience reading body language that let him see the well controlled reaction.

“We should let you sit!” Hob exclaimed, dragging Dream up with him. Loid and Donovan took the free spaces on the bench, but Donovan looked up and said, “Please stay. Perhaps you can help with my quandary also.” Hob nodded curiously, wondering why Dream, rather than wanting to leave shyly, seemed so invested in this conversation with a total stranger.

“You see,” Donovan began, “all my life I’ve thought that I could keep my family safe by winning the war. But this week, I’ve had some very vivid dreams.” Hob suddenly realized why Dream was so focused. “I’ve dreamt that I was playing with my sons, hugging them and laughing. I’ve never done this, and my father didn’t either so I don’t know where it is coming from. I was taught to keep my emotions inside, and I’ve raised my boys the same way. In these dreams, we are so happy.” He pauses to glower. “Then the war comes, and everything is destroyed.” Hob sees the pain of his past wartime experiences eating him from the inside. “As always, I do everything I can, but nothing is enough to save my family. Then the dream takes an even worse twist. I suddenly discover that it is not the enemy but my own nation which has destroyed my life!” 

“Yes,” Joe interrupted. “That’s always the way of it with war. People make the enemy inhuman so they can justify killing them. In the end, everyone dies just the same. The only way to end war is to realize that we are all human; everyone has a friend, a brother, a mother, who will hurt when they die. Wars are not started by violence but by power, greed and delusion. They are not ended by violence but by looking honestly at the cost and finding another way.”

“So, how do I keep my family safe?” Donovan pleaded desperately.

“You work for peace,” Loid suggested.

“You love them every day you have them, in the way they can receive it best,” added Hob.

“You dream bigger, more complicated dreams than winning the war,” Dream declared.

“You work for change that grows slowly rather than laying waste to all before it,” Joe pronounced.

A loud shout of laughter interrupted them, and they turned to see Del, the children, and the dogs   heading in their direction. As they all tumbled to a stop by the bench, gasping for breath, Damian and Demetrius both started arguing, competing for their father’s attention. Donovan sternly held up his hand, and the boys came to an abrupt halt, standing straight and looking at their feet.

“What is all this?” he questioned, with a clear attempt to soften his harsh tone.

“Well it’s my fault,” Delirium twirled between him and the boys, “well, not really my fault. But I started it. Or Anya started it. Anyway it was about the butterflies. Well not really the butterflies, the butterflies are fine. It’s just that Anya wanted butterflies.”

“And I want some too!” Damian shouted.

“Butterflies are for sissies!” Balling his fists, Demetrius rounded on his brother. 

“Ah, I see the problem here.” Hob stepped calmly between the two boys, putting his hands gently on their shoulders. He saw Donovan taking mental notes and hoped he noticed the calm tone as well as the grounding physical touch.

“Donovan, I’d like you to meet my sister, Del. Del, this is Donovan, the boys’ father.” Del turned her head almost upside down and squinted at Donovan.

“He needs a butterfly too!” she declared.

“Della, that’s a beautiful name,” he mused. Was that the hint of a gentle smile, Hob wondered, shooting Dream one of those spousal telepathy glances that said, Let him have his little delusion, he doesn’t need the weight of Delirium’s full name today. Dream subsided, as he always did when Hob was right.

“Anya wants butterflies in her hair!” proclaimed Anya. “Hob had butterflies in his hair!”

“That’s right!” Hob regarded the touch starved young adolescent under his hand and wondered if a bit of rough housing would do him good. With an internal shrug, he took Demetrius’ feet out from under him and gently pinned him to the ground. “And I am a sissy” he glanced fondly at Dream, “but not that kind of sissy.” Demetrius’ jaw dropped in awe and Hob figured he was ready for a bit more of a lesson. “I don’t want you using that word as an insult again, okay, young man?”

“Okay!” Demetrius nodded eagerly. Hob let him up and brushed a piece of grass off his shoulder. 

“Good man. Now, who wants butterflies?”

Del brought her hands together and when she separated them a cloud of colourful butterflies rose into the air. She plucked them out of the air one by one and placed several on Anya’s head. Anya twisted and turned to try to see them and laughed with glee.

“Me! Me! I want a blue one! And a green one!” Damian danced in delight as Del placed them on his head.

“Pink for Hobsie again!” Del giggled as she placed a couple in Hob’s hair. 

“Oh, no,” Dream groaned, as she plucked a black one and headed for him. Glancing at Hob, then Demetrius, he bowed his head and accepted it gravely.

With a kiss on Joe’s forehead, she bestowed orange, yellow and red butterflies on his red hair and full beard. He beamed at her in open affection, then returned to doggy scritches.

Del tiptoed precariously around the water bowl Loid had filled for Bond, Barnabas and Damian’s dog, Max, and placed blue and yellow butterflies in his hair to match his socks.

“So many butterflies to pick and choose from, so many brothers and sons and fathers!” she prattled as she twirled back to Demetrius. “What colour for you? Salmon or coral or puce or teal?”

“What kind of colours are those?! Red! I just want red!” he decided hastily. Placing a red butterfly in his hair, she turned toward Donovan. Hob watched the emotions flicker over his face. Taken aback, first, at the thought of decorations in his hair, but then considering as he gazed at his two already adorned sons. A glimmer of affection, and then determination. 

“Red,” he announced, looking at Demetrius, his Firstborn Son who he’d been so terribly hard on; and then, turning to the son he hardly knew but who he suddenly saw was desperately seeking his attention, his Second Son, Damian, he declared, “and blue!” As Del crowned him with fluttering butterflies, he put a hand on each of his sons’ shoulders, just as Hob had done.

Previous: Come sit on my lap

First: Space Buns