#and hob helps them heal
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Story idea:
married person. partner asks for a divorce married person did not want. married person grants their request because they don't want divorce asker to be unhappy. married person and divorce asker did one of those little sand jar things where you pour in the two different color sands in a pattern to symbolize how you're entwining your lives together or whatever. after the divorce is finalized, married person obsessively tries to separate the two colors of sand from each other over the course of several years. thinks this will be healing. gets therapy at some point. something something giving up on separating the sand and just putting it all together and throwing it out at the beach is way more healing that obsessing about it ever would have been and the lesson is that letting go takes time and sometimes we do a thing we think is letting go (helping) but is actually just a way to hold on (hurt ourselves).
#dream and calliope vibes anyone?#who is who? idk you decide#one of them ends up with hob at the end and that's the only correct answer#okay but actually what if it was immortal throuple#and hob helps them heal#and original married person goes to the beach where they dumped the sand#fills the bottle (same bottle new stopper) 2/3 full#adds another (very subtly colored) sand to the last 1/3#shakes it up#that's hob#all entwined together with what's left of an old relationship#and the new one that's growing#or some shit#idk#I'm not romantic#I just think this would be interesting to read#no desire to write it#feel free#tag me tho#married person is probably dream. he's the kind of freak who would do this shit#love that for him#beloved freak dream of the endless
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Dreamling fic idea I'll probably never get around to:
Dream is the highest ranking cleric in the city. His gifts are sought after by all and the cost of his services reflect it. He has treated and healed everything from Kings to Demi-Gods. But he is tired of his position. Those he cares for and treats are grateful, yes, but his services are almost expected. And the one time he fails because the bishop was too far gone, even for Dream's skills, he was berated for his failure. Whispers echoed through the kingdom that the High Cleric Dream was losing his touch, that the gods that favored him so are losing interest.
Dream begins to think that maybe they are right. Then he meets Hob - a necromancer that works out in the battlefields, mostly. Someone who he would normally never cross paths with until he does. His sister had advised him that a change of scenery could be good for him and his soul. To recharge and rest a moment and reconnect with his divine gifts.
Hob is helping carry in the wounded and sick from the most recent skirmish in the outerlands. Dream hovers, watching as this captivating handsome man, covered head to toe in grime and blood and dirt, gently guides his fellow soldiers towards the healers bay. And then he walks towards the bodies of those that had not made it.
Hob kneels by the dead, and Dream watches with curiosity. Necromancy was not viewed highly. Most necromancer positions were ones of war, raising the dead so that they might keep fighting. Dream wonders what possible reason this one might have for raising them here in the city. He freezes, thinking perhaps Hob was a traitor or spy and is planning to unleash an attack.
But no. No, as the young man's body beside him jolts to life, a wheezing, gasping noise releases from the cold dead lips. And Hob just smiles. He grabs the corpse's hands, giving it a gentle pat, and says, "Easy there. It's okay. The pain is gone, yeah?"
The corpse just nods.
"Good. Good," the Necromancer says. "You asked me, said if you died on the field-"
"That you'd bring me back, I remember." The corpse speaks, his voice rough. The sight is unsettling to Dream.
"That's right," the Necromancer says, smiling still. His voice is warm and low. Dream strains to hear it from his hiding spot. "What did you want me to say and to who?"
Dream furrows his brows in confusion. What odd game is this man playing at?
"Tell my parents... that I loved them. That I'm glad I got to serve my kingdom as I had. I... I did, right? I did good?" Dream's heart clenched at the quivering in the young soldier's voice. They remembered. They preserved their memories and thoughts and feelings. But...
Dream shook his head. No, corpses brought to life by necromancy are just reanimated. There should be no soul left within them. That is what every teaching has said before. The only exception being a corpse that is reanimated within mere minutes if dying. But this soldier died on the battlefield. He died days ago, at the least. So how?
"You fought so well," the Necromancer says. Dream sees tears fall from those warm brown eyes. "You saved many lives out there. You served king and country well."
"Good," the soldier says with a sad laugh. "Good... then. Then tell them that as well, please? And... and if you can find my brother, his name is Calrose, tell him I'm sorry for all the shit I gave him when we were young. And tell him that he was right about the ale. He'll know what I mean."
Dream feels he ought to turn away from such a seemingly private moment but he finds he cannot. He's transfixed on the sight.
"And tell my girl, sweet Alice, tell her I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise after all. Tell her I tried and that I-" And the young corpse bursts into tears. Or sounds like it, at least. There are no tears to be shed but the pained wail that is drawn forth from his throat couldn't be mistaken for anything else. The Necromancer leans toward and holds the young boy in his arms, ignorant of the rotting flesh and stale blood.
"I'll tell her. I'll tell them all. Don't you worry," the Necromancer whispers against the man's skull. There is a large gap in his head, Dream realizes now. His skull looks to have been smashed by something strong and heavy. It is most likely how he died. "You can rest easy now, lad. Be at peace. You've earned it."
And as the Necromancer lays the young man back down, Dream watches as the boy takes a final, shuttering breath in and sees the light in his eyes fade as the air is released. He is still once more but with the barest of smiles on his lips.
Dream is dumbfounded by this. By all of this. Everything he feels he knows has been turned upside down by a single man. So he follows him. He watches his movements through the city and witnesses many times his strange version of necromancy. He also witnesses the joy and sadness that it brings to the loved ones he tells each corpses last words to.
It's in a tavern, down by the ports, that Dream officially approaches the Necromancer. Hob, of course, picked up on his newest shadow that first day. It wasn't until just recently that he realized who it was that had been tailing him. And he's petrified. Hob well knows that necromancy within the walls of the kingdom is forbidden unless authorized. He thinks Dream is there to arrest him.
But no. Dream just wants to talk. And he doesn't ever mention his position as High Cleric either. And guessing by the black hooded cloak he wears, Hob is guessing Dream doesn't think he knows who he is either.
So they meet more often. Hob tells Dream of his life, of his experiences. He tells him of his experiences with Necromancy, specifically, and how he's found that more clings to a corpse than you might think. Especially if they had things they still wished to say.
Then one day the kingdom is attacked. The forces manage to breach the outer walls. Dream is darting all around, healing as best as he can, trying to help bolster their offenses. He sees Hob in the chaos of it all, rising corpses to help the fight. It is the first time he has seen this type of magic used in battle. It is the first time he sees Hob wield his skills for a fight.
Then Hob is shot at, an arrow sticks out of his chest and blood is running down his chin as it floods his lungs. The corpses he commanded fall to the ground as his focus breaks. Dream runs to him, ignorant of the continued onslaught. He holds Hob's hand as he calls forth every ounce of his drained power to breathe life back into damaged cells. But the arrow was poisoned. Death magic clings to the arrowhead and infects Hob's body from the inside out. He removes the arrow and allows his magic to flow inside, coating Hob is a warm, white light. He is healing, but it is slow. And with Dream drained as he is, he cannot overwhelm the opposing magic as he might normally. Still, he continues. And he is winning, slowly.
And then more arrows strike the pair. Dream covers Hob's body with his own but the thick cloak he wears only protects him so much. The garb he wears marks him as a Cleric and he has heard enough stories and read enough tales to know that picking off the healers early on is a prime battle stategy.
Hob tries to push him off, to cover him instead, but Dream holds him down, even as the venom embued in each strike weighs him down, Dream continues. Hob begs him to stop. That he'll kill himself if he keeps this up. And Dream knows that he is correct. He will die. But, he finds, as he summons forth the last reserve of his strength, he does not mind dying if it means Hob gets to live.
Besides, there are still words he would say to Hob. He will see him one last time before he goes for good after all.
He pushes all that is left of him into Hob and the death magic fades away. There is only light and love left in his cells. No more poison. Hob is safe.
Dream collapses. Hob scrambles up and drags them both out of the line of fire. Most of the enemy soldiers have left, continuing up through the kingdom. There is a clashing of steel and iron and the sound of magic being flung in the distance. But all Hob can see is Dream. His face lax in his lap. It makes him want to laugh and cry all at the same time because the first time Hob gets to see that beautiful face this calm is when he's dead...
Hob pulls the arrows from his body, discarding them in a pile and pulls the man's body close to his chest. He wishes, not for the first time in his life, that his gifts were of healing instead. Hob bows his head and kisses the soft skin of Dream's forehead and he whispers the words he has heard Dream speak before. Healing words. Hob feels a strange tingle within him. It responds differently than the magic he is used to. And then it is gone.
Hob frowns. And, going off of instinct, he speaks the words that he knows like breathing. His normal powers flood through him but they are also different. It twirls within him, mixing with some sort of foreign piece. But he continues, calling forth for Dream's spirit in the Ether and guides it back to his body. A soul cannot be reattached once the link between is broken. But it can reside there for a time. This is what Hob has learned over his years of study.
And today he is proven wrong. He watches as the chain that links them heals. It glows in a brilliant white light as Dream's soul is guided by golden hands that he knows are his own magic.
Hob looks down.
Dream's eyes open. And he smiles.
The best they can figure, once the kingdom is secured and the people and healed and tended to, is that Dream's own magic stuck with Hob and allowed him to perform both Cleric and Necromatic Magic simultaneously, effectively bringing Dream back from the dead.
It is something that needs further research and is happily agreed and funded by the Crown. Hob is promoted and works side by side with Dream now as they continue their research. They still go down to the healing bays on the weekend. Dream assists with the wounded and Hob still gathers the dead's last words. Life is good. Better than is has been. And Dream finally feels like he's rediscovered his sense of purpose. And Hob? Well, Hob's finally found what he thought he's never get: Love.
#dreamling#hob gadling#dream of the endless#the sandman#ky writes#cleric!Dream#necromancer!Hob#au idea
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Sunbeam
Part 2 of 4
Using the Dreaming Bingo prompt: Healing Touch
Rating: M
Ship: Dreamling
Warnings: Past abuse (not explicit, just implied past warprize things)
Additional Tags: Cat!Dream, Cow!Hob, King/warprize, hurt/comfort
Summary: King of the cow Kingdom, Hob is given a cat person as a warprize, and he'd give him the very sun if he could. But perhaps some sunbeams will be good enough.
Read on AO3
~~~
Dream needs more than just Hob’s milk.
The morning after Dream was given to him, he had called the palace physician to his room. She had brought several books with her, each bookmarked with any information on the health and anatomy of cat people that she could find, even if it wasn’t much. Doctor Constantine was never less than completely thorough in her job. It was how she had come to work in the palace in the first place.
It had taken her thirty seconds to kick the king out of his own chambers.
“I know you mean well,” she had huffed, her nose flaring in irritation that Hob could tell wasn’t really directed at him, “but this will be easier on him if he doesn’t feel outnumbered and cornered.��
Even after Hob left though, she hadn’t stayed in the room long. She had been jotting notes into the margins of one of her books as she spoke to Hob, explaining her concerns and how she wanted to address them in the coming days and weeks.
Now, even two weeks later, it hurt to see the way Dream’s body was suffering. While the malnutrition was their biggest concern, it was more than that. His fur was lank and dull, his skin sallow, occasional patches of skin red and irritated. Ideally, Hob wants to give him a bath, wants to let him soak in warm milk mixed with oils and medication to soothe his pains. But the very mention of a bath had brought Dream the closest to tears Hob had seen since his arrival, his body shaking and his voice cracking as he barely managed to choke out a shaking “Yes, master.”
So. No bath then.
Still, Hob wants to help however he can, and when he looks out the window and sees the palace gardens bathed in sunlight, he gets an idea.
It is early afternoon, and Dream has already been fed and woken from a fitful nap. He is now sitting, as he always is when Hob is in the room with him, at the foot of the bed, prim and proper. He thinks he’s seen soldiers standing at attention look more relaxed than Dream does right now, especially when Hob stands from his desk where he’d been reviewing his schedule. And luckily, there was nothing else on the docket today. So he casually walks around the room, collecting a small basket and filling it with a few select items.
When he turns back to Dream, he just barely catches the moment that his eyes dart down to his own lap, as though he would be punished for simply looking at Hob. As always, Hob consciously pushes down his heartbreak, focusing on offering a gentle smile to try to ease Dream’s fears.
“It is a lovely day out,” he explains casually, “Would you care to join me outside in the gardens?”
Dream blinks, looking confused and caught off guard, but ultimately nods and stands, “Yes, m-… Yes. Sire .”
Hob smiled, and slowly reached a hand out to stroke Dream’s hair once, “Good boy,” he cooed. Hob had asked him not to refer to him as “master” and Dream clearly struggled with it. He was afraid of getting in trouble when he called Hob master out of habit, because to him it was disobeying an order. But he was afraid to not call Hob master as well, because to him it felt disrespectful. No matter what though, no matter what title slips out, Hob simply pets him, either while correcting him gently, or praising him for his bravery.
Slowly, he was flinching less at Hob’s hand.
He was getting a little stronger, too. As Hob leads him out of his chambers for first time since his arrival, Dream follows behind him on his own two paws, their journey marked by the heavy click of Hob’s hooves and the soft tapping of Dream’s claws. Certainly there is still a long road ahead for Dream to fully regain his strength, but for now Hob is proud that he is able to manage even the short to walk to the gardens.
Outside, the air is warm and bright, only the slightest of breezes to ruffle their fur. Hob gives a friendly nod to the various guards as they pass them, searching for the perfect spot to spoil Dream with sunshine.
Eventually, Hob finds a spot that he finds suitable, some fragrant bushes nearby but no trees to cast a shadow on them. He places the basket on the ground and removes a soft blanket to spread over the grass. He keeps his motions casual, even as he shrugs his shirt off in case Dream gets hungry later, and seats himself comfortably on the ground. When he looks at Dream, he finds him standing stiffly, ears flat against his head and staring at where his tail has wrapped around his ankles.
Smiling, Hob pats his lap invitingly, “Could you come here please, Love?”` He is aware that Dream takes his every word as an order to be followed, but he hopes that maybe if he keeps asking, one day Dream might feel comfortable enough to answer honestly.
For now, Dream answers expectantly, “Yes, sire,” and scrambles to do as he’s told. At first he moves to kneel between Hob’s thighs, but Hob halts him. He takes Dream’s hand gently, guiding him until he has Dream cradled in his lap, tucking his face against his shoulder and into the sun.
He feels Dream shiver in his arms, and he pets down his back softly, “There we are,” he nearly whispers, “It’s such a lovely day. Thank you for joining me. It’s nice to enjoy the sunshine with some company, y’know?”
“...Yes, my lord,” the words are choked out, and he feels Dream relax, just a little against his body, the too-sharp bones sinking against Hob’s flesh.
Hob allows them to fall into comfortable silence, waiting patiently for the rest of the tension to slowly bleed from the cat in his arms. Eventually, Hob shifts slightly, reaching into the basket to retrieve a small jar.
“Dream,” he asks softly, mourning the way he immediately tenses, “I have a salve that I think might help your skin and fur. Would it be alright if I put some on you?”
He feels Dream inhale shakily before nodding against his shoulder, “Whatever you wish, my lord.”
Sighing, Hob knows he will not get a better answer than that right now. He adjusts them just enough to gently push the robe down Dream’s shoulders, shushing him gently when he feels Dream’s breath catch in his chest. He lets the fabric pool in Dream’s lap, not taking it off completely, and then gathers Dream closer, shielding him with his body. He dips his fingers into the jar, coating his hand in the medicated oil, and then begins petting Dream.
He starts with the long stripe of fur running down his back, the black strands dull and dry from neglect. He strokes over where he can feel the prominent knobs of his spine, tangling his fingers down to the roots to rub the oil into where the skin is flaky and irritated. Hob keeps his movements slow and methodical, carefully working the medicine into each strand of fur, whispering soothing endearments and praise each time he feels Dream tremble and shake under his hands
Dream tenses when he moves on to the bare skin of his shoulders, whimpering when he feels Hob spreading the oil over the scars that litter his back.
“There, there,” Hob whispers, “Are you sore? The oil will help, but I can stop if it’s hurting, sweet one.”
He feels Dream shake his head, “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, “I did not mean to disobey.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong, Love,” Hob reassures, moving his hand away from the scars. He will try there again later, for now taking more oil and working his fingers into the fur at the base of Dream’s neck, “Just relax, enjoy the sunshine. You’re safe, sweetheart.”
Dream doesn’t believe that yet, Hob knows. But he will reassure him however many times he needs until he does. It takes time, Hob occasionally shifting to ensure Dream is always facing the sun as it moves across the sky, the jar of oil slowly emptying as he pets wherever he can reach, wherever Dream is not too afraid to be touched, until his fur is shiny and soft from the medication. He keeps petting him afterwords, reveling in the way Dream has melted against him, the way his skin has warmed beneath the sun, the way his ears are no longer pinned back in fear, but drooping in relaxation. Dream has his chin hooked on Hob’s shoulder, face tilted towards the light, when Hob feels it.
A soft, stuttering purr. It is barely audible, but Hob can feel it where Dream is pressed against his breast.
Hob feels himself tearing up. He had read about the way cats purr, the sound of contentment and relaxation. He looks down, and feels his heart swell. Dream has his eyes closed, his face tearstained but soft, the light making him look like he is glowing, and Hob decides that he will do anything and everything in his power to make Dream look like that every single day.
Carefully, he leans down to nuzzle at the crown of Dream’s head, so much softer and warmer than it was this morning. Dream doesn’t move, but the purring gets just a little louder.
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ik this isn’t a prompt but i’m in love with the idea of jj calling the reader mama like maybe in bed or just being affectionate. they don’t have kids but it’s just a name he’s given her
"mama's mad" is still one of the best quotes of the show, so i've got u here. hope this is okay! idk why a lot of my stuff is set at breakfast time in the chateau. maybe i'm craving bacon (my poor vegetarian ass is suffering)...
(content warning - mentions of sex)
“If you two could screw a little quieter next time, there’d be no complaints here,” Kiara says to JJ the moment he walks into the kitchen on Sunday morning.
JJ makes his way straight to the counter where some bacon has been served up. He gladly grabs at it.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replies, biting down into a piece of crispy strip.
John B is cooking eggs on the hob whilst Sarah leisurely slices lemons and oranges by his side, for infused water.
“Will you?” Kie asks.
“Probably not, nah,” JJ grins. She rolls her eyes.
“Where is your girl, anyway?” John B asks from the stove.
JJ opens the fridge and retrieves the carton of OJ, taking a swig.
“Napping. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” JJ can’t help but add with a slimy grin.
“You’re shameless, JJ,” Sarah sighs.
“You know it, princess,” he winks. He watches as Kiara starts mixing together ingredients in a bowl. “Whatcha making?”
“Pancakes.”
“Oh, nice,” he hums. “Lemme see if mama wants any.”
By mama, he obviously means you. It’s a given that any ‘mama’ in JJ’s sentences refers to you; something the Pogues and yourself have casually come to accept. The moment you and JJ stopped beating around the bush and fessed up to your feelings like the semi-mature teenagers you are (it was practically a battle of who-dare-say-it-first), he had taken to calling you it. You weren’t exactly sure why. Had teased him about whether he had a mommy kink in private (which he neither confirmed nor denied). Mostly he did it to joke. It sounded nice in his northern accent, anyway. Drawled off the tongue smooth and sweet like honey. So, no complaints from any party, unless JJ got vulgar with it in front of the Pogues (which was fairly often, with it being JJ).
Heading down the hall, JJ pushes open the spare bedroom door and darts his head in. You’re still in bed, lounging on your back, hair a mess and neck covered in healing and forming love bites. JJ grins, proud like a kid winning a science fair contest.
“Yo, mamma bear? Pancakes or bacon?”
“Why do I have to pick between them?”
“Fair point. You want both then?”
“Mhm,” you sigh lazily, eyes shut. “Coffee too, if there is any.”
JJ cringes. “Think Pope made some.”
“Yikes. No, then.”
“You got it mama.”
With that, he wanders back into the kitchen and grabs a plate from the drying rack of the sink. It’s always piled high with pots like some rip-off modern art project. The leaning tower of pots and pans. He dumps some bacon on, holds out his plate for John B to serve up some eggs - straight from the pan - and makes Kie promise to save some pancakes. Then he’s back in the bedroom, two forks in hand, climbing back into bed to share the morning fry-up with you.
“This is the life,” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as you eat.
JJ smiles and nods. You’re right. You’re always right, to be honest - not that he’d ever confess it. Only one of you needs a big ego, and JJ likes to think he’s claimed that spot.
“Wanna fish later?”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Don’t mind really. As long as I’m with you.”
“Aw,” he grins, nudging you with his shoulder, making you laugh. He can see the flush to your features when he does. “You going soft on me, mama?”
“Only you,” you grin up at him.
JJ can’t take it when you look at him like that – like he hung the stars just so you can stand under them – so he grabs a strip of bacon and shoves it in your smiling mouth, making you laugh.
Yeah, this is the life.
#jj#jj x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj drabbles#jj maybank drabbles#drabbles#thoughts#obx#outer banks#obx fics#obx drabbles#outer banks fics#outer banks drabbles#jj x reader drabble#jj maybank x reader drabble
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Hob and Dream were childhood sweethearts. Dream was a prince and hob was just a lower noble but he lived by Dream’s summer palace, so the two of them spent their summers playing games and making up stories.
Dream loved that hob would read to Dream and of course hob thought Dream was the most beautiful, wonderful thing he’d ever seen.
As they grow up they fall in love. And they promise each other that they’ll be together. They make this promise on the eve of dream being sent off on a diplomatic tour of the neighboring kingdoms.
Only while dream is gone, (the burgess family stalled him) the Morningstar attacks his kingdom, burning the cities down and taking the palace.
Dream is filled with rage. But he knows he can’t go back.
Not yet. It isn’t safe.
He’s so worried for hob, but when he sent out of his spies to check on him, the spy only reported that Hob’s family home has been burned. They say the young lord of family gadling refused to bow to their new rulers, even raised a sword to Lucifer themself. No one has seen him since. How spies urge him not to look for hob. If he isn’t dead, he will wish he was, as a prisoner of the morningstar, renowned for their cruelty and mind games. And there is no way for dream to get to him.
So Dream mourns and turns his grief into revenge.
He works on building a network of spies and that’s how he becomes aware of a small rebellion being led in his name. It cropped up suddenly in a matter of weeks, they say lead by a former prisoner of Lucifer’s. They say Lucifer gave him their special and personal attention for years. They say most wouldn’t survive that kind of cruelty. They say Lucifer is furious about the escape.
Not daring to hope, Dream reaches out and after months of subterfuge, finally sets up a meeting between them in the edge of the kingdom, out of Lucifer’s sight.
“It’s been a long time,” the man, hooded and masked, says softly. “Many thought you abandoned us.”
And Dream knows that voice. He’d know it anywhere.
“Hob,” he breathes. “Is that you?”
Ohh, masked vigilante rebel Hob!!!
Dream begs Hob to tell him what happened to him while he was imprisoned by Lucifer, but Hob keeps changing the subject and trying to talk about plans to get Dream back on the throne. He won't talk to Dream properly, not like they used to talk. He seems so hurt and bitter, which Dream can understand! He just wants to be able to help Hob heal. If he doesn't have Hob, there'll be no point in getting the kingdom back at all.
Hob finally comes clean and admits that Lucifer used to use Dream’s image to torture him. With some kind of drug they would make sure that Hob would hallucinate Dream’s presence, and then torture Hob physically. So despite himself he began to believe that Dream truly condoned his imprisonment and torture. Only Hob’s determination to get out and find out the truth led him to survive.
Dream is, of course, horrified. He promises to respect Hob’s space going forward. He'll give Hob room to heal and maybe when he feels ready, they can be friends again? Hob bursts into floods of tears at this point (so much for his reputation as an uncrushable rebel). He doesn't want Dream to leave him! He was so scared and he just wants everything to be okay like it used to be.
Dream promises there and then that he'll win back his realm and marry Hob. They'll defeat Lucifer together and build a kingdom that is so strong, no one will be able to hurt Hob ever again. Dream is going to protect him. He'll fight to the death to give his beloved the peaceful life he deserves.
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Ooh what do you think THG characters ended up like after the rebellion? (Btw I wanna hear ALL the thoughts you have bc this topic is so interesting sorry if it's kinda weird)
i have so many thoughts so i apologise in advance.
katniss suffers for years after prims death and the only light in her life is knowing that she is healing with peeta right by her side. its hard for peeta to tell what's real and what's not, even years down the line, and katniss starts sticking up post it notes around the house so he knows that he's not in a dream. katniss goes hunting in her spare times while peeta opens up his very own bakery in what used to be the hob. when peeta and katniss officially start a relationship and realise that they're wanting to spend the rest of their life together, he ropes johanna into helping him build a house in the meadow.
johanna moves to district four to help annie with the baby--- whether or not their relationship is platonic or romantic is up for debate. annie helps johanna get over her fear of water and johanna helps annie with her episodes of disassociation. finnick jr is a lovable menace, just like his father. his mom and auntie jo make sure he knows finnick died a hero.
unpopular opinion, but i think haymitch stopped drinking. there was no need to drown his sorrows for any longer -- he had to face the fact that president snow killed his family and although it was a tough pill to swallow, it was a necessary thing to come to terms with.
effie moves to district twelve to be closer to her found family and she slowly comes to the realisation that she likes being around haymitch. the two of them skirt around their feelings but eventually she kisses him and the rest is history. they adopt a family of geese and haymitch names them after his children (katniss, finnick, peeta etc...)
beetee moves back to district three to start a technological firm but stays in touch with the others. gale is consumed with guilt from what happened to primrose, so he moves there, too, and helps beetee as a distraction from what really happened. he never speaks to katniss or peeta again.
#grace talks🐚🌷#the hunger games#thg#headcanons#hcs#fem!reader#wlw#finnick odair#katniss everdeen#annie cresta#everlark#peeta mellark#johanna mason#sapphic#effie trinket#haymitch abernathy#haymitch x effie#beetee latier#gale hawthorne#district twelve#the hunger games x reader#rebel#rebellion#mockingjay#catching fire#sunrise over the reaping
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Old Town Road (AKA The "Hob is a Horse Girl" Fic)
By @arialerendeair and all art by @amielot (Art Masterpost!!)
Chapter: 1/?
Pairing: Dream/Hob
Rating: Explicit
Art featured in this Chapter: The Circus Posters
Summary: Hob helps to rescue Dream - a rare Unicorn Centaur from a decade of captivity at the hands of Roderick Burgess.
Dream is injured, and severely malnourished, and over the next few weeks as he heals and grows stronger - he and Hob grow closer.
When Dream sets off to return to his home, Hob accompanies him, and the two of them grow closer and closer, until they find themselves unwilling to let each other go.
Will they manage to find their happily ever after together?
(It's me, of course they will - just an adventure or seven first!)
~!~!~!~
(Chapter Preview!)
Hob had done his fair share of odd jobs over the years (and far more that he wasn't willing to admit to in polite company), especially in the last five or so, but working for a Circus was a new one. Had a hell of a lot of benefits though. Burgess, the man running the place - hadn't asked anything about his background or where he'd come from, had asked if he was willing to work hard, keep his mouth shut, and shovel shit, and had hired him on the spot when he'd said yes.
(He'd done far worse jobs for far less money. Nothing was bad if you could find the bright sides in it. Even shoveling shit.)
Now, of course, he'd done the smart thing and set about making friends. There were all sorts that worked for Burgess. Some that he kept his distance from (having a few vicious friends wasn't a reason to hate a man, but it meant Hob kept his head down and away from the Ringmaster and owner of the place), but many others he made friends with by virtue of conversation. It'd always been something he was good at, making friends, and relaxing people as they chatted together. Made even easier by the fact that he'd traveled a lot and was open to traveling more and working long hours.
Within a few weeks, he was picking up additional jobs and working in several different areas of the circus. He didn't sleep much, but the additional money he made under the table helping out each of the different bosses was worth it. Something he stuffed in his shoes and kept close to his chest when he wanted whiskey that burned his soul on certain days of the year. Especially if one of the other cleaners or security wasn't quick enough to get away from their... curiosities, as Burgess called them.
Read the rest on Ao3!
#Aria Posts#Amielot#Dreamling#Horse Girl AU#Centaur AU#Unicorn Centaur Dream#THIS IS THE FIC YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR FOLKS#i am unhinged about this fic#How unhinged you might ask?#As someone who pants'd (ie wrote without an outline) a 120k Titanic AU fic#This fic is so important that I outlined ALL of it#To the tune of more than 4k worth of outline#I am so excited for y'all to get into this fic
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argknsg do you have any story or ideas for hob and dream while dream was in the freakshow before hob helped him escape?? i would love to see the building of trust, evading circus security, and healing the mental wounds dream must have from his captivity. Obvs i luv the AU!
your art is awesome!
excellent question! I'm attempting to post my stuff in somewhat chronological order. But I do have some thoughts abt Hob and Dream while in the circus :)
These thoughts are subject to change
I suspect Burgess' circus treated dream similar to how real life circuses and freak shows would treat their non-human attractions. (Badly)
I also suspect Burgess was in need of new hires since something kept kicking all the stable employees out of commission. That something is Dream.
Hob was likely a new hire. He gets one look at Dream during a performance and 😳😳😳 (insert Ev's art here hehe)
It does NOT take Hob long to go completely rogue for this horse. He sees Dream's mistreatment and decides "I can find a new job... I'm going scorched earth"
There’s plenty of ways for Hob to create a convenient distraction. He could pop the locks on the animal cages, or tip over an ashtray and “accidentally” start a fire. A particular attraction called The Corinthian croons at Hob through the bars of his cage. Promising he could easily cause mayhem if only Hob would let him out :3. He's got a score to settle with Burgess too...
As the pandemonium commences, Hob steals a bag of cash and other trinkets from Burgess' safe and BOOKS it.
This means, from Dream's perspective, all hell simply breaks loose during a performance. Dream stands frozen/or panics as everything literally begins falling down around him. Then a human he's only seen in passing grabs him, yells for him to MOVE! RUN! ( if Dream even notices at all) No time to react. The tent is actively coming down. Dream must bolt or get crushed/killed. Idk maybe Manticori took out a load bearing pole lol
I wonder whether Dream even knew Hobs NAME at the circus.
I also suspect Burgess is out looking for them, Hob robbed him and stole his star attraction * shrugs*
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The Temple
Morpheus x female reader
Y/N was not immortal. She was not a goddess, or a fairy, or a witch.
Only a human waitress who had gotten a job at the New Inn, and had quickly become friends with the owner, Mr. Gadling.
Hob, as he liked to be called, was a bit of a strange man. Very nice, high school history teacher, who used the rest of his free time to take care of his pub, where he served customers while correcting his students' homework.
When asked how he managed to find the time to do everything, he replied mysteriously that he had plenty of time.
It was during a night that Y/N discovered her boss's secret.
As they were going to close, after cleaning the tables and turning off the lights, a man came in, pointing a gun at them, ordering them to give him the money.
Not wanting trouble, Hob agreed, giving everything they had as quickly as possible. But the man had then looked at Y/N with a funny look.
It wasn't hard to know what he was thinking. But before he could speak, Mr. Gadling had then lunged at him, grabbing his arm so he was no longer pointing his gun at Y/N. The fight was quick, a shot was fired, and both men fell to the ground.
The thief was unconscious, as Hob clutched his chest, watching his blood flow. Y/N let out a scream, grabbing a towel to put pressure on the wound, while picking up her phone to call for help, refusing to think that it was unnecessary, as the bullet was at the location of the heart.
Then a strange thing happened. Mr. Gadling was in pain, it was obvious, but he tried to smile anyway, a twisted grin, looking at her kindly. He took her phone and hung up, before wiping away her tears, no longer worrying about his injury.
"Don't cry, duck. It's okay."
"Hob... Hob, I'm sorry."
"No, don't be. It's not your fault. Why are people so stupid and rude ? He couldn't take the money and leave ? As a gentleman, I couldn't leave him to you. touch. Don't worry, I... I just need some time. Then you can call the police."
"But... You will die." she sobbed.
"... Can you keep a little secret for when we have to make our depositions ?"
It turned out that Hob Gadling could not die. Not if he didn't want to at least.
It wasn't very clear, and he himself didn't seem to really know how things worked, but after an hour his wound was almost healed, they were able to clean up the blood and call the police.
"Well... It was a pleasure to meet you." he sighed when they were alone. "I'm going to have to grab my things and leave now. If you could be lovely and not tell anyone until I'm gone..."
"What ? You're leaving ?! Why ?!"
"As soon as someone finds out my secret or suspects something, I leave. I can't stay in the same place for more than twenty years. It was nice, I'll probably come back later when everyone will have forgotten me. I will say that I am a nephew. Damn, I hoped to be there if my stranger decided to find me."
"But you don't need to leave ! I won't say anything, I swear !"
Hob gazed at her for a long time, considering the situation, before deciding that he trusted her.
He trusted her so much that he told her his whole story. His adventures. His marriage, wife and children.
His stranger.
Another immortal, or something else, supernatural creature, vampire, demon, god.
The one he considered a friend, whom he met once every hundred years, with whom he had argued, and who hadn't come to their last date.
"Oh." said Y/N sadly. "Why ?"
"You should ask him. Although he probably won't answer, he's not very good at communication. Maybe he's still mad at me. Maybe he'll never come again. In addition, the pub where we met has closed. That's why I created this place, so that if one day he comes back, he can find me, like before."
Loneliness was a feeling that Y/N knew quite well. Attachment too, to certain people that we always wanted to have with us and whose mere presence made us happy.
Helping Hob Gadling became her mission. Because he was her boss, her friend, her savior, and she wanted him to be happy. So she would do everything to make sure he stayed as long as possible at the New Inn, until his stranger returned.
She took care of the place with much more ardor and love than before, making it warm, welcoming, alive. People who came to the pub all said that the owner and the waitress brought them a little joy and hope.
Every day, Y/N came to work wondering if the stranger would be here this time. Even without knowing him, he occupied her thoughts and her nights. Her dreams. She would picture a tall, pale man, with raven hair, eyes containing a starry night, and from which there emanated something indescribable. She really wanted to meet him, and for him to come back to see Robert, who had been waiting for him for more than a hundred years.
Since he didn't seem human, she wondered if he would hear her prayers. In any case, she didn't know how she could love someone she had never seen, nor how she could miss him.
And one day, when she went to ask Hob if he wanted another coffee to finish correcting his students' papers, she found him sitting across from a man. Even though her instinct immediately told her that it wasn't a man. He was too expressionless to be a man, and he looked a lot like her dreams.
"Ah ! Y/N !" Hob said when he saw her, his eyes sparkling and a huge smile on his face. "I must introduce you ! Y/N, this is my stranger. Stranger, this is Y/N, my employee and my friend."
"I see." said the stranger in a distant voice. "Honored to properly meet you, young priestess."
"Priestess ?"
"Of course. This temple was built for me, its essence, its walls, all sing in my name, and while you became my priest, Hob Gadling, you were aided by this priestess."
"... What ?" Hob and Y/N said at the same time.
"Didn't you feel it ?"
"Not really, dove." answered the immortal, a little lost. "Are the other employees also priests ?"
"No. They do not know the purpose of this place."
Y/N didn't really know how to react. By deciding to work at the pub and help Hob, she hadn't signed up to become the priestess of an unknown, visibly tempestuous god who could harm her if she didn't celebrate him properly.
Frightened, she excused herself to serve other customers, before staying behind the counter, as far as possible from Hob and his stranger, who looked at her for a while, before resuming their conversation.
When the god was gone, her boss tried to reassure her. He had been as surprised as she by the term "priest", but he didn't think it really made sense. It only seemed to please his stranger that someone thought of him when creating a place.
"I don't think he's going to get you in trouble. He never gave me any. Yeah, it hurt me when he left, but that's it, and he came back, and now he will come back In a hundred years, when you... Anyway, he won't give you trouble, I promise you, and if he does, I'll never talk to him again."
This did not reassure her. Y/N went home wondering if she should quit or if it was too late for that. If she had made a pact with the devil without doing it on purpose, like Hob who had become immortal without knowing why.
She still managed to fall asleep despite her fears, only to find herself in a pub that looked like the New Inn, but older.
"This is the White Horse. Hob Gadling and I used to meet there a long time ago."
The stranger was there, seated at a table by the fire, slowly waving his hand to invite her to take a seat in the chair opposite him. Imagining that she had no choice, Y/N obeyed.
"I sensed that you were afraid of me, Y/N Y/L/N. My raven informed me that I needed to talk to you to clarify the situation."
"Your raven ?"
“Matthew. He can be impertinent, but he has some good advice, when he wants to. As a priestess of the Dreaming, you have certain responsibilities, but you don't have to worry about them. You already fulfill them remarkably well."
"I don't understand." Y/N sighed, still scared.
"Very well. I am Dream of the Endless, Morpheus, Master of dreams and nightmares, prince of stories. As my priestess, it is your duty to welcome the dreamers, to entertain them, to give them hope, to guide them on the right path and to ensure that they leave without injury. You are already doing all this, with Hob Gadling as with all those who enter my temple. So I have nothing more to ask from you."
"... He's going to be furious."
"... Who ?" asked the stranger, Morpheus, his brow furrowing, giving expression to his doll's face for the first time.
"Hob ! You haven't told him your name for ages, when I just met you. We're going to be in trouble."
"Oh ? Really ? I'll think about telling him next time."
"A hundred years from now ? When I... When I'm gone ? No offense, but I couldn't keep this secret until I died."
"I was thinking of returning next week, if my obligations permit it. Fear not, I will speak to Hob Gadling. And to my sister, if you wish so, dear priestess. Your love haunts the walls of my temple, as well of your dreams. I will do what I can to make you happy."
He then stood up, the pub around them growing hazy. As if it was perfectly normal, Morpheus took the time to kiss her hand wishing her a good day, then Y/N woke up.
She hesitated to mention this encounter to Hob. Maybe it was just a dream after all. She decided not to give too many details, indicating only that she had dreamed of the stranger, who had confirmed to her that he expected nothing from her, and that he would return soon.
"Soon ? Next week ? Really ? That would be wonderful !" Hob marveled, hopping around the tables like a 600-year-old child.
"Yes, wonderful. He also talked about his sister."
"His sister ?"
"He said he would talk to her if that was what I wanted." repeated Y/N, continuing to wash the windows, while observing the raven which was standing on a tree.
"I didn't know he had a sister, but good for him ! He's coming back !"
Morpheus returned, to give his name to Hob who happily accepted it, and to tell Y/N that his sister had accepted. He didn't immediately explain what that meant. It took several years, a panic attack, and Matthew the talking raven to make it clearer.
Even if he hadn't known his name before, Hob was right, his stranger was not very good at communication, too glad to have two priests, and maybe two friends, now immortal.
#Sandman#morpheus#morpheus x reader#morpheus fanfiction#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#dream of the endless imagine#dream of the endless fanfiction
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oohh!! seer dream!
Hi hi! This one's my lil fairy tale (kinda) fic about an immortal-human Dream who can see the dreams of everybody and make them come true. He lives in a cabin outside of the woods, and eventually, a Hob whose dreams always comes true stumbles upon him. They adopt a couple of ravens too, it's a great time. Here's a little snippet from chapter two :)
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He bundles the poor thing up in the cloak, cradling it close to his chest. There is a faint warmth as he brushes a finger over silk-soft feathers, as cold as he imagined they would be, and the bird still breathes. Faintly, but it still does, and he is grateful for that. For the chance to do something to help heal it, to give it a place to grow warm again until it can take to the skies once more.
”What is your name, then?” he murmurs quietly, trying not to think overmuch of the biting cold. He will be home in the cabin soon, and that will have to be enough for him.
The name comes to him easily, a faint whisper in the back of his mind. “Jessamy,” he tries, and—yes. It fits. It fits perfectly, and the bird in his hands seems to respond pleasantly. Jessamy it is, then.
The walk back to his cabin is much slower than he would like. He is cold, breath frosting in front of him, and the winter clothes he wears does little for the chill. Still, the bird seems to enjoy being cradled close to him while bundled up so snugly in the fabric of his cloak--its dreams slowly become a tiny bit brighter, even if its desperation to feel less pain still occupies most of them--and so by the time he reaches his cabin, he thinks it is worth it.
It is even more worth it when he sees the man who stands on his doorstep once more, looking more than a little dejected where he stares at the closed door. It is the stranger again, the one who foolishly dreams of immortality, and Dream startles at the sight of him. Truly, he had not expected to see him the last time--at least, not for a reason as innocent and as lovely as simply wanting to offer Dream stories because he seemed to enjoy them the first time they met--and to see him a third time feels...
It feels impossible. It feels a little too good to be true, somehow. People do not visit him. He made this cabin his, far enough away from any civilisation that he will not be disturbed, because he did not want people to visit him. Because he did not want to be used for his abilities, because he wanted to hurt less, because he wanted to exist without such expectations.
Occasionally, there are some who stumble upon him. He is an unwilling legend in these parts, a story that has passed onto newer generations through word of mouth. He knows how they think of him, what they call him, what they want from him. And sometimes, somebody takes their chances. Makes their way towards his cabin on nothing but desperation and dreams alone in the hopes that somehow he exists, that, for some reason that is beyond him, he will make their dream a reality even if he had not done such a thing in centuries.
Yet this man continues to find him. He does not request his dream come true. He makes no demands. He does not even ask--he has requested only water and Dream's company, so far, and neither of these take energy or magic from him.
It is baffling. It is wonderful.
And still, it is hard to trust. A third time cannot be a coincidence, surely. He must know by now who Dream must be. What he must be. Dream does not think the man would be so rude as to outright demand he grant the dream that hangs in the air around him, one he imagines so fiercely Dream can still feel it without reaching out, but his muscles still tense.
After two nights of his companionship, after sitting by the fire with the man in front of him...After having somebody spend time in his company after so many years of the walls of his cabin closing in around him, he does not think he will be able to turn this man away. Not after all of that.
Immortality would be difficult to grant. It would be painful, and would take much from him. He thinks it might be a worthwhile price to pay. "Hello," he greets. It is...softer than he intends, quieter. The bird in his hand lets out a little sound, still in so much agony, and he brushes a finger over her head once more. It appears to soothe her, and he is happy to give whatever comforts he can.
The man whirls around, so fast Dream fears he may hurt himself accidentally. He remains properly balanced, however, staring at Dream with widened eyes as though he hadn't expected Dream to be there at all. Which is...strange. This is where he lives. Where else would he be?
A smile as bright and glorious as the sun breaks across his face. It is a smile Dream would do much to see again, one he wishes to burn into his memory so he might revisit it again. "Stranger!" he greets in return, and Dream thinks he will never get tired of the joy, the excitement, that shines through in his voice so easily. It has been terribly long since somebody has been truly delighted to see him. "I thought you weren't here for a moment."
"My apologies," he murmurs slowly. The man has not asked anything of him yet. He wonders how he has gotten lucky enough for this man to find him. "I had not been expecting guests."
#the sandman#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#dreamling fic#the sandman fic#eris writes things#my asks#wip tag game#cuubism#chapter one is going to go up in a couple of days I think!!!#I'm incredibly excited to share it :))
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In light of the conversation today about Fuckboi Dream, I wanted to counteract the mean accusations in my inbox by giving some recommendations. First of all, FBD itself. Mind the tags, it is a dead dove fic. Maybe don’t read it if you struggle with separating fiction from reality or have a hard time quitting a fic if it’s just not doing it for you. But if you are an adult and have gotten over purity culture, the first 22 chapters are an amazing exploration of consent and healing in a risk aware consensual bdsm relationship. Chapter 5 was one of the most romantic things I’ve ever read. Chapter 8 was life changing, in terms of helping me examine the unwritten rules I live my life by, and the consequences of them. It suggested better rules which tbh are doing me much better than my old ones did. After chapter 22 it is an exploration of grief. The most recent chapters are finally resolving this section, and I’m so curious to see where the plot will go next, drawing as it does on both the comics and the show, sometimes in unexpected ways.
If you want the same kind of experience but aren’t ready for 300k words, I’d like to recommend The Undone and the Divine, also by @dancinbutterfly . This is a cannibalism fic, okay? I don’t approve of cannibalism in real life, but in a fic, as a metaphor for the desire to be utterly consumed and become one with a lover? Oh yes. This one is also very much consent oriented. Consent, my beloved. The art @teejaystumbles did for this one is stunning. The fic is moving and disturbing and glorious. Be an adult and mind the tags, it’s based on 24/7 (episode 5) and there is consensual violence. The sequel is started but not posted yet.
If you want to try a bdsm fic that’s not messed up but still has lots of great consent and eventually communication, @lostelfwriting ‘s Dancing with the Brutes is also one of my favourites. I loved what she did with Lucienne and Titania for me in Queen Brat. It gives a better picture of what bdsm might look like in real life.
If you want to try dancinbutterfly’s writing but aren’t ready for bdsm, Fuckboi Hob vs the Endless Family Dinner is hilarious and rough but not so heavy. It’s also a favourite, but in a normal fic way, not an obsessed with it way.
And hey if you’re caught up on FBD and want to read my fanfics of it, here’s a link to my master list of those!
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Unsung Lullabies (Prologue)
The day has finally come- here is my piece for @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!
An attack on the Dreaming leaves Dream wounded and weakened in an unexpected way- physically, mentally, and emotionally, Dream is temporarily left as a child. Hob is given the task of watching over him until he heals, which seems simple enough, but slowly through their time together he learns more about the things his love struggles with and why. He learns more about Dream’s family, and the ways he’s been hurt that he won’t admit. But with Hob’s help, he may begin to heal some of his ancient hurts.
Warnings: Implied/referenced Child Neglect, Implied/referenced Emotional Abuse
Read the whole thing on AO3
I got so lucky and was paired up with @elliotsissues who did the most beautiful and adorable illustration for my fic!
For context, well, keep reading ;)
~~~
Hob is bored and misses his boyfriend.
There’s nothing unusual about that, and while in the past he may have held some embarrassment at the idea of missing his partner after a single day of not seeing them, Hob has grown well past such shame. Yes, he saw Dream at breakfast yesterday morning and that does not stop him from missing him now.
Even after over a year of dating, Hob still sometimes finds himself in awe that he ever managed to survive a whole century between meetings with his stranger- though he is certainly not a stranger anymore.
Hob remembers how much of his life was spent assuming he would never see his mysterious stranger outside of the White Horse. Even after Dream returned to him, a part of him assumed that he would only see Dream in the New Inn. And for a while, that was true. After receiving a name, and a declaration of friendship, and an agreement to meet more than once a century, Hob hadn’t felt like pushing his luck. So they had met at the New Inn twice a month, and Hob would drink and speak of his experiences since their last meeting, and Dream would keep a hand around a full glass that was never lifted from the table and stiltedly spoke of his own life.
It had happened by chance that Dream came to meet him during an unexpected dinner rush, the Inn packed with groups waiting for tables or a space at the bar. Dream had been so blatantly uncomfortable with the crowd that Hob hadn’t even though much before suggesting they head somewhere else.
Suddenly they were outside and Hob was blindsided by the fact that he was seeing his stranger- seeing Dream- in the hues of a fading twilight. Not low burning candles, not lanterns, not harsh light bulbs (not dark, unforgiving rain). Just the slowly fading light of the sun as it sunk to make way for moonlight.
And Dream was standing beside him, bathed in oranges and blues, blinking slowly and waiting. Waiting for Hob to show him where to go, waiting to follow Hob because he chose to trust that Hob would not lead him astray. And Hob thought “Oh, I love him so,” and was quietly grateful that it was not a daydream. It was just a fact.
After that they began to meet in other places, other cafes or bars, sometimes just walking winding paths through the city, and Dream began to visit even more frequently and Hob fell even more in love, which he hadn’t thought possible after 600 years. He supposed before he had only been in love with an outline, a paper-cutout that Hob could only see the shadows of. Now he sees so much more of him, sees him, knows the things that make him smile and the things that make him flinch and the things that make him slam shut like an iron gate and the things that coax him out again.
It was outside, in the dark of night when Dream was accompanying Hob back to his flat, when it finally happened. They were just outside Hob’s door, darkness hiding much of Dream’s face and figure, and maybe that was what allowed him the strength to reach out and take Hob’s hand before he could pull his keys out.
“Hob,” he said his name on a breath, and there was something sad there that Hob couldn’t wrap his head around, “You are. My friend.”
He said it as a statement, but Hob nodded in answer anyway, “Of course.”
Dream nodded in return, “And…” his voice dropped and his gaze lowered, “I love you.”
Hob’s only regret from that night is that he took so long to answer.
Dream had just begun to pull away, shadows shifting along his neck as he swallowed thickly, and then it all caught up to Hob and he was grabbing Dream’s other hand, tugging him close and placing a clumsy kiss against his lips.
“I love you too,” he whispered against his lips, and he wanted to say more but all he felt capable of in the moment was kissing Dream harder.
Now he has been spoiled, and Hob has become greedy for his lover’s time. Any moment he can spare Hob will grasp with both hands and still want for more.
But, he sighs to himself, Dream had been pulled away pretty suddenly during breakfast. Matthew had arrived looking ruffled and speaking of strange earthquakes, and Dream had of course departed swiftly to ensure his realm’s safety, giving Hob a chaste kiss before vanishing in a swirl of sand.
Well into the afternoon of the next day now, and still with no word from Dream, Hob figures it was probably a more complex problem that Dream will need to take some time to sort out. Hob understands his boyfriend has a great responsibility.
He still misses him though.
Nothing for it but to distract himself he supposes. He had done a light cleaning of the kitchen after lunch, and he didn’t feel like working, so instead he sat on his couch with an old paperback that had been recommended to him by one of the New Inn’s bartenders and figured it was a nice day for reading by the window, letting the sun illuminate the pages. The hours pass peacefully, just tea and reading, the sounds of the city a pleasant, muffled white noise through the window, and the book actually is quite fun- cheesy action and romance but in the best way.
Hob is just getting to the good part when there’s a knock on his door.
Whipping his head up, Hob narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Dream always just appeared in his flat, and his mortal friends always call or text before coming over. Door-to-door salesmen aren’t really a thing anymore, so that’s crossed off the list of possibilities. Standing slowly, he steeled himself to answer, trying to appear normal while also bracing himself for any sort of danger that might have found its way to him.
When he finally opens the door, he sighs in relief when he sees Death.
“Christ, I was nervous there for a second,” he chuckled, “What brings you here, Death? I certainly didn’t call for you,” he quipped.
But the joke fell flat, and he suddenly became aware of the tight, strained look on Death’s face, her smile clearly fake, “Hello Hob. Sorry to barge in like this, but. I was hoping you could help us out.”
Hob opens his mouth to say ‘anything, whatever you need,’ but the words die in his mouth as Death steps to the side, revealing a small figure behind her.
It is clearly a child.
And that child is clearly Dream.
(Read the rest on AO3)
#the sanmdan#dreamling#my writing#other people's art#centennial husbands#centennial husbands big bang
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Fern - in a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you
For Dreamling? ❤️
JANNNIIIII this one really got away from me, but I hope you like it!
Flower Prompt Game!
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In another universe, Dream of the Endless does not meet Robert Gadling in a run down pub, does not offer him immortality in exchange for nothing more than a once a century meeting. He does not walk the Waking World with his sister Death, but instead visits her realm for their weekly afternoon tea.
In this universe, Robert Gadling has made his own immortality in a world where magic never left. He is still a soldier for hire, a mercenary, an assassin where absolutely needed. He has no particularly strong magic of his own. But his skill with the blade, and his loyalty to those he serves earns him a name, and eventually, a favor. He becomes immortal on the night where the twin moons meet from across the sky, when the ensuing eclipse grants the Mad Witch Henreitta Reynolds the power to seal his soul from Death herself. Death notices the ritual and does not intervene, for she is too busy entertaining her brother’s latest stories.
Dream and Robert Gadling do not meet in this century, nor the next. Or the one after that.
But in all universes, Dream of the Endless is still captured by Roderick Burgess. Roderick Burgess will still take and take and take, but he will still fail to bring his fallen son (not a soldier this time, but a scholar, lost to a dragon attack at his academy). He will pin all his future hopes on his second, less remarkable son, Alex. Alex, desperate to please his father, will perform a ritual far outside his skill level, and it will result in Dream’s freedom, and the death of everyone else on the estate.
But Dream’s power is a fickle thing, too long have his tools been separated from him, and he does not even have enough power to call himself home. And so, naked, alone, and unable to return to the realm of dreams, Dream of the Endless walks barefoot towards the nearest village, seeking asylum.
In this universe, Dream of the Endless and Robert Gadling meet for the first time when the former collapses at the latter’s feet. Robert, having felt the tremors of the explosion from the Burgess estate, had run towards the carnage, instead of away, looking for survivors. He finds one, and whisks him away back to his cottage by the sea.
For three days, Robert Gadling would nurse Dream back to health. Dream would stay silent the entirety of those days, would refuse to make eye contact with his caregiver, too mistrustful of humans after having spent a century imprisoned by them. But Hob asks him no questions, does not push him to provide gifts he cannot give. He himself simply gives, and gives, and gives.
“I am Dream of the Endless,” Dream declares to him the night he feels enough of his power return to him. Robert only smiles back at him, charmed.
“I figured as much,” the immortal replies easily. “Hadn’t dreamed a lick in the last hundred years until the night I rescued you.”
This declaration is startling, but only the slightest bit. Dream had known he was not dealing with no ordinary man. He could smell the heavy cloak of magic on the man’s skin, and yet, none of that magic seemed innate. Robert Gadling had no remarkable magical talent of his own, and yet, he had earned the favor of some of the most powerful magic users in the realm. It was only natural he would have known of Dream’s true nature, and yet he chose to help him anyways.
“Your care has allowed me time to heal, Robert Gadling,” Dream continues, ignoring the thrill the realization alights from deep within him. “I would grant you a boon for your troubles.”
Robert only shrugs. “Call me Hob, first off,” he says, waving him off. “And I don’t need anything from you.”
After a century of being asked for gifts he was unable or unwilling to give, the casual indifference of the man’s dismissal rankles Dream. It is almost insulting.
“Surely there is something every mortal wants,” Dream insists. “You are already immortal, yes I can sense the magic,” he adds when Hob startles at the statement. “I am still weak from my imprisonment, but I can promise you wealth, power, the ability to inspire all dreamers. What is it your heart desires?”
“I’ve already told you, there’s nothing,” Hob replies, almost vehemently. “I did not save you expecting a boon.”
“I cannot leave a debt unpaid, Hob,” Dream growls, growing impatient. He wishes to return to his realm but he cannot leave before the boon has been granted. His pride will not allow it. “There must be something you wish of me.”
Hob then meets his eyes, ready to argue once more, but then Dream catches a glimpse of the man’s dreams. He sees himself pinned underneath Hob’s broader body, feels the immortal’s lips ghosting along his skin, teeth grazing at his thighs, and hands pressed firmly against his body. Hob realizes almost immediately what Dream has seen and turns away, his face flushed scarlet with embarrassment and humiliation.
“I would not ask that of you,” Hob murmurs. “It is not honorable.”
Dream smirks, and closes the distance between them. Hob does not move, but Dream can hear his heartbeat intensify, can smell the arousal wafting from every pore in his body. It is intoxicating, to be desired so much. It has been too long since Dream has been wanted in such a way.
“I do not leave a debt unpaid, Hob Gadling,” Dream murmurs against the man’s ear. “But you will have to work to truly pleasure the King of Dreams. Are you prepared to accept that challenge?”
Hob does. He rises to the occasion beautifully.
When their coupling is complete, Hob Gadling swears fealty to only Dream, makes grandiose promises to be his knight until the end of time. Dream laughs, and accepts. He has always been a greedy creature, and he wants this man for his own, and only his.
Hob helps Dream track down his tools of office, and when Dream is returned to full power, he grants Hob a place of honor as his knight, and his official emissary between the Waking and the Dreaming. In the night, he steals away his lover to his private chambers, where they bring each other untold pleasure that the rest of the realm feels for eons after.
“You are a marvel my dear heart,” Dream says to him one day, apropos of nothing. “In a world full of boundless magic and power, the greatest miracle to happen to me was meeting you.”
Hob kisses him gently, still charmed and deeply in love even after thousands of years. “I think you’re the miracle, love,” he chuckles. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets to love you.”
#dreamling#hob x morpheus#dream x hob#dreamling fanfic#sandman fanfic#seiya writes#seiya drabbles#gonna clean this up for ao3 later I think#seiya writes dreamling
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Dream doesn't know how he let his sibling(s) talk him into participating in a bachelor auction. There are so many bitties who are going to be bidding on him for their daughters (or themselves). Dream knows he'll probably be won by one of those handsy ones.
🤵🏻🩷🤵🏽♂️❤️🤵🏻
Somehow a bidding war breaks out - it's gratifying that he's going for a high amount (take that Desire), but Dream is not looking forward to any of these ladies winning.
Then from the back a voice calls out double the current bid - an outlandish amount! And then into the spotlight walk Robert Gadling. He was Hob to Dream before he left to strike out on his own.
(Hob's family was old money like Dream's, but Hob had plans to make something of himself without family help. He promised Dream he would be back, but it had been so long.)
He looked so good Dream could do little but stare - Hob had filled out and there was a (sexy) dangerous look in his eyes that did nothing to cool Dream's regard. --- I'm thinking those current rehearsal pics with the short hair and the beard, and the distracting, healing, cut over his left eye. 😍😳
OOO just imagine Dream standing up on the stage, sweating and blushing as Hob just stares at him. The other bidders have been firmly silenced by Hob’s ludicrous amount, and eventually the gavel goes down. Dream is shuffled off the stage, and he immediately makes a beeline for the man who just "bought" him. Hob is smirking and Dream wants to punch him in the face so bad (apparently someone got there before him). The audacity of Hob to come in here and buy a date with him after almost a decade with no contact! Dream doesn't care, he is not playing this game, he's not some object--
Hob places a finger to Dream’s lips. Then takes his hand and leads him off somewhere more private. Dream’s jaw drops, and he goes. Willingly. Nobody sees them for at least an hour.
Out in the carpark Dream finds himself spread out in the back seat of Hob’s very fancy car (he didnt notice the make, but it's big, roomy, almost like Hob planned in advance to have Dream at his mercy on the leather). Hob is cradling his leg, lifting his thigh to press a torturous series of kisses all the way from his knee to his hip. Dream thinks he might cry. He still hasn't found out where the hell Hob has been.
Well. He did promise that he'd come back. He's certainly making good on that promise now. Dream didn't think he'd be ending his evening like a cheap whore, even though he was "selling" himself... but since they're here, he intends to give Hob his money's worth. And make sure that he NEVER leaves again.
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So I don't really make a lot of posts for my tmnt iteration where it's just only text, since I mostly prefer to show my iteration through my drawings. But, I figured I might as well do this so you guys get to know a bit about the main characters that are going to be part of my story, so here we go!
Character Summary List:
The Boiz:
Leonardo: Leader in Blue. Centered arc is the first arc.
Raphael: Big and red and always ready for a fight. Centered arc is Yokai Uprising Arc
Michaelangelo: Orange and one of a kind. Centered arc is City at War Arc
Donatello: Purple and rocks machines. Centered arc is Galactic Frontier Arc
Other Main Characters:
Splinter: The turtles' rat sensei/father. Is Hamato Yoshi and has a tragic family backstory.
April O'Neil: The turtles' first best friend since they were kids. Currently a college student. Is besties with Donnie.
Casey Jones: The turtles' second best friend (Raph meets them first when they were younger, then the others during the present). Hockey player and vigilante. Has a dorky crush on April. Is besties with Raph.
Keno: The turtles' third best friend. High school student who works part time at his family owned pizza place and is badass at martial arts. Is besties with Mikey.
Metalhead: A turtle robot created by Donnie to assist the turtles through medical needs. Eventually, with Donnie's programming, they gain some sentient and becomes more willing to help out the team in any way they can.
The Mighty Mutanimals:
Old Hob: A mutant cat from TCRI, who originally started the gang. Once had a thing against humans due to being experimented on by them, but now wants to help protect the city and his friends.
Slash: A giant mutant spiked sea turtle from TCRI, who was overmutated from an ooze explosion. He started as a frenzied monster, but is soon healed by Dr. Rockwell. He leads the Mighty Mutanimals.
Leatherhead: A mutant alligator from TCRI
Mondo Gecko: A mutant gecko from TCRI
Dr. Rockwell: A mutant monkey. Was originally a human scientist who worked alongside Stockman at TCRI, but experiments went wrong in where he got turned into a monkey, (but he seems unphased with that situation ig lmao)
(And in short, they are all very close friends with Mikey)
Foot Clan:
Shredder: Leader of the Foot. Is responsible for the death of Yoshi's family. Main antagonist of the first arc.
Karai: Shredder's adoptive daughter. One of the members of the Foot Elite (Is viewed as the weakest Foot Elite, even Shredder views this). Is frenemies with Leo.
Tatsu (AKA: Tiger Claw): A mutant tiger who was originally human. Leader of the Foot Elite and is second-in-command of the Foot
Chris Bradford (AKA: Rahzar): A mutant wolf who was originally human. Member of the Foot Elite and is in charge of taking care of the new and upcoming recruits. He also becomes a better father figure for Karai.
Bebop: A mutant warthog who was originally human. Besties with Rocksteady.
Rocksteady: A mutant rhino who was originally human. Besties with Bebop.
Jennika: A mutant turtle who was originally human. She was the youngest member of the Foot Elite (is actually better than Karai).
Outer Space:
Fugitoid: A robot who was once a scientist but got his mind transfered to a robot. Is the one who originally formed the rebellion against the Triceraton Empire.
Mona Lisa: An alien salamander who is a gladiator fighter in the Triceraton Arena. She helps Donnie with his survival and skills in fighting in the arena.
Tokka: An alien turtle who decides to tag along the turtles' adventure.
Traximus: A triceraton guard who is secretly working with Fugitoid in the fight against the Triceraton Empire. He helps Donnie in finding a way to escape, as well as a way to take down the Triceratons' planet buster weapon that they have abused its power with.
Emperor Zanramon: Leader of the Triceraton Empire. Main antagonist of Galactic Frontier Arc.
Captain Mozar: Second-in-command of the Triceraton Empire.
Hidden City:
Baron Draxum: A goat yokai who is the leader of the Hidden City. Main antagonist of the Yokai Uprising Arc.
Huginn and Muninn: Baron Draxum's loyal pets.
Koya: A falcon yokai who is the general of the yokai army.
Miyamoto Usagi: A rabbit yokai who was formerly a warrior for Baron Draxum. He then helps the turtles in taking down Baron Draxum.
Alopex: A fox yokai who is the leader of the yokai rebellion.
Venus: A mutant turtle. Was created by Baron Draxum as a weapon against the turtles.
The Pantheon:
Kitsune: A fox yokai who is the eldest of the Pantheon. She is known for her variety of mystic powers and tricks. She is first seen in the Shredder Arc, where she is Shredder's right hand other than Tatsu. She is then seen again in the Yokai Uprising Arc, where she is Draxum's right hand.
Tengu: An eagle yokai who is the second eldest of the Pantheon. He is known for his mystic powers in weather-like abilities (thunder, earthquakes, etc.). He takes his duties more seriously.
Bakeneko: A cat yokai who is the youngest of the Pantheon. They are known for shapeshifting and playing with fire. They are very mischievous.
Nure-onna: A snake yokai who is the second youngest of the Pantheon. She is known for her deadly poison and cataclysmic powers yes this is based off of Cat Noir, shut up. She is very scary.
Sarugami: A monkey yokai who is the middle sibling of the Pantheon. He is known for his immense strength. He does not speak at all.
Ryujin: An all powerful and evil dragon who was banished to the Twilight Realm. He wishes to destroy the entire world and recreate it in his own image. Main antagonist of Dawn of the Pantheon Arc
Other Villains:
Krang: A powerful alien race who was banished to Dimension X. They wish to conquer the entire universe and remake it in their image. Main antagonist of Zero Hour Arc.
Baxter Stockman: A mad scientist who works at the TCRI.
Bishop: A special agent of the US government and head of the EPF. Main antagonist of City at War Arc.
Hun: A crime boss who is the leader of the Purple Dragons.
Rat King: A mad man who can not only control the rats, BUT ALSO MUTANTS! Main antagonist of Mutant Madness Arc.
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Old Town Road (AKA The “Hob is a Horse Girl” Fic)
By @arialerendeair and all art by @amielot (Art Masterpost!!)
Chapter: 2/?
Pairing: Dream/Hob
Rating: Explicit
Art featured in this Chapter: Dream and Hob Escape the Circus, Dream Collapses Getting Into the Barn
Summary: Hob helps to rescue Dream - a rare Unicorn Centaur from a decade of captivity at the hands of Roderick Burgess.
Dream is injured, and severely malnourished, and over the next few weeks as he heals and grows stronger - he and Hob grow closer.
When Dream sets off to return to his home, Hob accompanies him, and the two of them grow closer and closer, until they find themselves unwilling to let each other go.
Will they manage to find their happily ever after together?
(It’s me, of course they will - just an adventure or seven first!)
Read on Ao3!
~!~!~!~
(Chapter Preview!)
Unfortunately, even though they were in town for a full week, Hob knew that he needed to do some proper planning if he wanted to break the centaur out and get away with it. But, thankfully, he'd made enough friends, that it was easy enough to start getting what he needed. He bought a nice knife and holster and tucked it away in his belt, with an easy excuse that he wanted something on hand if he was dealing with the Manticores regularly. (No one questioned him when he pointed out he was their regular feeder.)
He started using his wages to buy drinks. Not for himself, but for others. Loosening tongues. Not getting drunk, but sharing a pint after a long day that he paid for was a sure way to get into the graces of many of the employees there. Paul's impressed nod and smile had meant he was doing the right thing, even as his stomach turned.
Thankfully, everything he was doing meant that he could continue getting the unicorn centaur small cups of oats as long as he collected the cup from one of the other horse's stalls. It worked well, and hopefully, it was giving him a small modicum of strength through all of the stuff Burgess made him do as part of a routine. He had almost everything in place, except for one final thing.
Hob planned to rob Burgess blind. Despite what the man had said the first day they'd arrived in town, he'd been making excellent money, and the shows had been sold out almost every night. Which meant that somewhere, there was a great deal of money just lying around waiting for someone to take it. He was in the middle of running an errand for Paul when he caught wind of precisely what he needed to hear, at last.
Read the rest on Ao3!
#Aria Posts#Amielot#Dreamling#Horse Girl AU#Centaur AU#Unicorn Centaur Dream of the Endless#Hurt/Comfort#Escape plans#BAMF Hob Gadling#Escape Time!
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