#i would share in the sadman server but im too nervous lol

[fulcrvm]

sneak peek at wip for a dreamling bingo fic i feel particularly proud of so far!! :)

(Unformatted, unedited, but it's retired!Dreamling and established relationship)

“Duck?” Hob raises his voice, not taking his eyes off the door while he grasps around his side table drawer for the wrought iron charm he’s had since the late 1600s, “Are you there?” He’s answered by another rolling waul. It’s a heavy sound, Hob can almost swear he feels it rumbling through the floor. “Do not laugh.”  “What—?” Hob rushes to the door, pressing his ear against it, “Morpheus? Are you okay? Is there—?” “Promise not to laugh, Hob Gadling, this is serious.” Morpheus’ voice sounds weighty, nearly as it did before, but somehow each word reverberates in Hob's skull in a way so alien it nearly makes him wince. Morpheus continues, “Now, could you please open the door.” "Love, what's going on—” The question dies in Hob's mouth when he sees what sits in front of the bedroom door. Or rather, what just darted to his feet as soon as the door was opened.  The purring is the first thing Hob registers. It's the scragliest cat he's ever seen, a skinny thing still the size of a maine coon with an insanely silky, jet black coat of fur. Hob just stares as it immediately starts making rounds around his legs. He crouches down to let the cat sniff at his hand, “Hello, there.” The cat peers at him with a regal air, “Hello, Hob Gadling.” Hob barely just keeps from jumping out of his skin, “Morpheus?!” “Yes, my love,” The cat's— Morpheus?— mouth doesn't move when Hob hears the words, it's as if his partner is somehow projecting his words directly into Hob's poor human brain that really isn't wrapping around this situation quite yet. “I'm beginning to think this spell has affected your memory as well, you can't seem to say anything that is not a question.” “Oh, come on, I think it's perfectly reasonable when I've woken up and found my partner's voice coming from a sodding cat— Murph, why are you…?” Hob frowns, still stoking Morpheus’ head (what, he's surprisingly soft?), “Did someone do this to you?”  Morpheus bristles, turning away with his tail in the air and stomping away to sit by the settee. “...No.” Hob gives up on crouching and sits down, “Then, why…?” He receives the most scathing side-eye he's ever seen from a cat, “I may have... Subjected myself. To this. On accident.” “What?” “I turned myself into a cat. On accident, Hob.” Morpheus staunchly does not meet Hob's eyes, “Happy now?” Hob laughs.