#thief hob

[cuubism]

Idk if you are still taking prompts, but: After their first meeting, while Hob still thinks it is a joke, he escorts Dream out. It is only when Dream returns to the Dreaming that he realizes his ruby has been stolen by Hob. Thus begins a game of cat and mouse through the ages, and Hob keeps slipping through his Endless fingers.

oh dear, this was from last year. fun though! could be the basis for a much longer fic. i love thief hob

-

Hob knows better than to gloat openly about his winnings, but he can't help tossing the ruby a few times in his hand as he walks, admiring it. Such a stunning gem, he's never seen its like but in paintings of kings, and even those are rare enough. Invaluable. And the strange lord had just had it about his neck, for all to see.

Hob shakes his head, tucking the ruby away in his tunic. Money can't buy common sense, it seems.

He finds his horse in the stable and leads it outside, stepping into the stirrup and swinging up into the saddle. After a find like this, best to disappear. Easy as the ruby had been to snatch, that strange young lord will doubtless come back looking for it, once he notices it's gone.

Night is falling by the time Hob reaches the treeline. He hasn't been followed--the path behind him has been empty for hours, and the trees show nothing but birdsong as he steers his horse into the darkness. Hob knows this route well, and by the time the moon is high above, he's navigated to a familiar clearing, untacked his horse, and sat back against a tree for some rest.

He can't help but look at the strange ruby one more time before going to sleep. It glows unnaturally in the moonlight, a blue-white reflection on a background of venous red. He tilts it back and forth in his palm, studying the cut. Who, exactly, is going to buy this from him, he can't yet say. But it'll pay his way for years once he finds them.

Hob kisses the ruby's cool surface, then tucks it away in his tunic again, chain wrapped around his fingers for safekeeping. He quickly falls asleep.

-

The moon is still high when Hob wakes, startling back to awareness against the trunk of the tree. He scrubs a hand over his eyes, looking around, disoriented. Strange, it's like it's been only moments since he fell asleep--

His horse is gone. So's his pack. And for that matter, the clearing is smaller, closer, darker than he remembers--

Heart pounding, he scrambles in his tunic to find--

"I imagine you are looking for this," says a low voice, and from the darkness emerges the wine-red glint of the ruby. Following it is the dark shape of the lord Hob had robbed in the tavern, only he's-- he's--

He's horrible. His eyes glow white in the dark, his hair waves in a strange wind, and everything about him is sharp and wrong, like an uneasy nightmare Hob might have in the wee hours, consequences coming back for him.

"Look," he says, holding up his hands in self-defense. Shit, his sword's gone from his belt, too. "S'really your fault for swanning about with that thing, innit? 's bandit country, m'lord."

"Is it?" He... doesn't seem angry. He's smiling. Oh, it's a terrible smile, but nevertheless. "How foolish of me, then. To expect to maintain ownership of my belongings."

"Like I said, thieves about," Hob says. "Got to be careful, now." Really, what did he expect Hob to do? Let someone else get the score?

The strange lord sits down on the grass across from Hob, still with those glowing eyes and that terrible smile playing about his lips. "And what, Robert Gadling, ought I to do, having caught one of these thieves?"

And the thing is. Authority doesn't work very well on Hob. One of his 'flaws' most like to get him killed, 'cuz Authority didn't tend to care whether it worked on you or not. Hob's been hauled before the magistrate for theft before and no matter that he knew he'd be lucky to get away with his life he could never quite bite his tongue. Always a smart mouth, his mum used to say.

It's no different with this lord. Hob's hardly about to bow his head and apologize. He remembers the smirk on the other man's face at his challenge in the tavern. Pretty little thing to be talking big words about punishing thieves.

"Dunno," he says, tracking his gaze over the soft lines of the man's dark robe, his fine neck and narrow shoulders. The longer Hob looks, the less frightening he seems, though there is still something of the otherworld about him. God's teeth, if Hob's brought the ire of the fey about him... "What would you like to do?"

And the strange creature laughs. Just a chuckle, but nevertheless. "I could make you spend your next one hundred years paying a thief's price over and over again in the Dreaming, as penance for taking my ruby," he says. "Should I do that, Hob? Cut off your hands, and again and again as you regrow them?"

"If you did you wouldn't get to see what they can do for you," Hob says. Hell, Hob'll do it even without threat of punishment. He's a pretty little lord, for certain, even if he is fey.

The lord chuckles again, and closes his fist around the ruby, stealing its light. Without the reflection, his eyes seem even wilder. "Hm. Perhaps not this time. I am too curious to waste your next century in sleeping punishment." He takes Hob's face in one hand, holding his chin in sharp fingers. "Be wary what your hands touch in the Waking World, Hob Gadling. Not all creatures will find your insolence humorous enough to wish to be merciful."

He lets go, and Hob falls backward through the tree at his back, falls into darkness--

And wakes in sunlight, his pack beside him, his sword at his side, his horse grazing a few feet away.

Heart pounding, he shoves his hand into his tunic, though he already knows what he'll find.

Or what he won't find. The ruby, gone into the darkness, into dreams, with his strange, fey lord.

Hob shivers.

Well. He'll certainly have to meet him again in 1489, now. Not to retake the ruby--that hardly matters in the end.

But answers to all the mysteries it's brought: those Hob would gladly steal.

[mayhemspreadingguy]

My brain held me hostage until I yielded and drew this fanart of a fic (x) written by amazingly talented @cuubism. What can I say, it was catering to my taste. The concept of Hob attempting to steal a crown from the dreaming? Yes, please. And the description of Dream's fluid movement? god, that's exactly how I would imagine it... This paragraph absolutely killed me:

Dream strode down the few steps separating them, fluid as water streaming over a fall, his long cloak trailing behind him. Majestic creature. Majestic king. Did he really expect Hob to be at all normal about it? 

Well, I was not normal about it. like. at all. *proceeds to die*

Also, I finished this page three days ago but then I held it hostage in return. Because I needed to prepare for an exam. Yes, I totally delayed preparing for the exam in favor of drawing this. Shame on me. So I needed to speedrun the studying and I had literally no time to post this. (for those wondering. yes, i did pass the exam lol)

[burnt-scone]

Hounds chapter 32 by @xx-vergil-xx

[symphony-calamity]

Feeding my Sandman brainrot by writing an Art Thief!Hob Dreamling rescue AU.

(This is my first real fanfic, so uh, wish me luck I guess?)

[sleepsonfutons]

Even When the World’s On Fire, I Won’t Stop To Watch It Burning - 2023 Dreamling Bingo Fill

Square: A2 - (Adoptable Prompt) Post-Apocalyptic

Title: Even When the World’s On Fire, I Won’t Stop To Watch It Burning (Ch 4)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3039

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus & Hob Gadling, Modern Johanna Constantine & Hob Gadling

Warnings: Major Character Death

Additional Tags: Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Professor Hob Gadling, John Dee wins, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Violence, John Dee's Diner-Typical Violence and Chaos, But On a Global Scale, Morpheus Has the Worst Time, BAMF Hob Gadling, Exhibitionism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Just at a Different Time, Hob Gadling Has PTSD, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Religious Cults, John Dee Makes People Worship Him, Post-Apocalypse Adjacent, Past Relationship(s)Past Eleanor & Robyn Gadling, Temporary Character Death

Summary: Standing in the middle of Trafalgar Square, Hob stares up at the sky as he drops onto the edge of the unmoving fountain. It had taken the better part of an hour to reach the city center. He had moved at a slow pace, navigating the more dangerous city center with caution and detouring around groups of verax engaged in violent revelry. This kind of darkness…Hob can’t remember the last time he was able to experience it. There isn’t even the flickering glow of torches to light the streets as had been the case in most of his memories of the city. He ponders briefly when the last time anyone had been able to see the night sky like this in London and his chest aches with longing to share this sight with Dream. OR Hob navigates the crumbling, near post-apocalyptic world and tackles the search for Dream head-on, but is only able to make headway through roundabout means.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44623840/chapters/113203297#workskin

Back with another @dreamlingbingo prompt fill with Chapter 4 for A2 - (Adoptable Prompt) Post-Apocalyptic

[densewentz]

Happy Halloween!

Sandman Inktober was a blast! Wrapping up my little run with some Bob's Burgers inspired costumes + more kid fic AU. Kian gets to be Peter Pan's Labyrinth, Dream is Billy Idol-ish, and Regular-Sized-Hobsie is Paul Rudd in 'I Love You, Man'. (Tulip is either a bat or a cat, neither Hob nor Dream know for sure. Matthew is just a dirty candy thief)

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is a superlative thief.

He sometimes breaks into museums or other high security places just because he can (breaking into the Geneva Freeport was very cool ~ https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geneva_Freeport ~ he didn’t even steal anything!)

Anyway he heard through his favorite unsavory circles, that Roderick Burgess had acquired some awesome priceless "magical" thing a little while ago. Well Hob is nothing if not curious.

Besides, Roderick Burgess is an actively horrible person, stealing from him would be a distinct pleasure. Hob hadn't even decided he was going to steal whatever the thing was, but he was going to take a look,,,,,and if it was less magical and more "kill the world" then he would grab it and drop it off with the most trust worthy government type he knew. And Hob honestly expects it's a kill the world thing, since you know magic is not real.

Hob was NOT expecting a person, person-shaped thing, pissed elder god thing, enclosed in glass and iron. How a douchebag like Roderick Burgess was able to trap and contain an elemental force of the universe Hob did not care to find out, but he knew he couldn't leave it in Burgess's "care."

Should Hob be finding seething man-shaped thing beautiful; stealing things tends to get Hob hot, sure, but he doesn't think it's ever been quite like this. Hob hopes he gets out of this mostly still sane.

OOO this is a super fun idea!!! I just think it would be really fun if Hob is just doing crime for fun and because he finds it kinda... hot. He's absolutely not freeing Dream for altruistic reasons, no way... he's just got a reputation to maintain when it comes to thievery!

Dream is less than thrilled to see yet another human coming up to his cage, but this time... its different. There's a small tool which cuts a small circular hole in the glass and lets the air come rushing in. Hob also smudges the binding circle (in fact, he upends a bottle of water to wash away the paint completely). And with that, Dream can use the rushing return of his powers to explode out of the glass orb.

He's obviously glad to be out, but he realises immediately that his tools have been stolen and dispersed. Which is when Hob pipes up again, and offers his assistance in recovering them. Who better to track down stolen goods, than a thief? By the time Dream reluctantly accompanies Hob back to his car, leaving the mansion and its occupants behind in eternal sleep, Hob has already tracked down the bag of sand via ebay.

Dream is still skeptical, but when Hob accompanies him to hell and somehow manages to pinch the helm from right under the demon's nose... he starts to think that it might be worth keeping this annoying human around for a while longer. Even Matthew is impressed. Especially when they all make it out of hell in one piece, and nobody even has to play the oldest game.

The ruby is obviously problematic and Dream almost forbids Hob from coming with him at all. But Hob is adamant that he always finishes up his jobs. He heads to the diner with Dream, just about resists the urge to go crazy and rob everyone in the place. In the end Dream doesn't need his help, but it's kind of nice to be just hanging out anyway. Obviously there could be nicer circumstances for a date, but Hob is kind of feeling some kinda way about this particular elemental force...

And Dream is obviously struggling with the events of his imprisonment, but having Hob around is a nice distraction. Even if he keeps finding Hob’s hand rifling through his coat pocket ("how BIG is that pocket?! I got my whole arm inside!" "It contains a multitude of unknown universes. Keep your fingers to yourself.")

Hob settles for holding Dream’s hand instead. Which is even better, actually.

[hollowtakami]

Hii! I followed you from an old account that for some reason didn't let me make requests, but now I went back to my hawks era and with it came my obsession with his fics.

Aniwaaays, me and reverse comfort are one, so I was wondering if you could show how reader (s/o) comforts Hawks after suddenly reuniting with his father or just see a photo of him. like, idk brings back a lot of bad memories for him and I would like to see some of it if it's not too much trouble <3

I love You btw, and sorry if i bother u with this

content: mentions/implications of child abuse/trauma, reverse comfort, keigo has c-ptsd, him and reader are both trying their best

a/n: hiya anon! it’s no problem at all, i will always enjoy answering asks and writing for my darling kei<3 and thank you sm, that really makes me smile to know that people genuinely enjoy my work! ^^

Keigo saw so much flash before him every time he blinked.

He remembered the way his teeth would grit when he squawked, spat; the way his hands looked before they came down crashing, a tsunami of scarred skin that would scar him just the same.

Be it physically, or mentally.

Keigo found himself paralysed by the picture, printed in black and white. It might as well have been blood soaked into the newspaper, crumbling in the hero’s faltering grip.

For a moment, the avian wasn’t sat at the table with a breakfast, made with love, laid out like a declaration. But for a second, he was a beaten fledgling who’d been plucked of his autonomy.

Keigo blinked. He was holding a newspaper, he was not there.

The poor baby bird on the floor had dared to get up, the one wing that still flapped crushed under the boot of his father.

He was eating breakfast, the sun was on his skin.

Keigo was not there, physically.

You were surfing some butter around a pan, ready to make some scrambled eggs for you and your boyfriend. Letting the butter melt for a moment, you smiled.

Turning around, you beamed, “I’m using butter for the eggs this time, not oil, just like Fuyumi told me!”

Mentally, Keigo was there.

Noticing the way your partner looked as though he had been turned to stone, your heart grew cold. You switched off the gas hob, almost gliding through the kitchen to the dining table where Keigo sat, paralysed.

“Baby?” You whispered, your words falling on death ears.

The newspaper shook in the avian’s hand, your eyes flicking to the front page. There he was, Keigo’s father; Takami The Thief.

When he was drowning under the surface of his anxiety, you knew better than to startle him. You pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Your hand gently covered his like unexpected snow. You felt how cold his skin was, be it from the morning breeze or the fear laced in his blood.

“You’re home, birdie,” you said, clearly. “He’s not here, he never will be.”

Your words were firm, and for a moment you swore you felt Keigo’s fingers twitch under the blanket of your hand.

“I- I feel like, like I can’t breathe,” was all Keigo could say.

You inched closer to Keigo, wrapping your arms around him. Careful not to touch his plumage, as to not trigger him further, you squeezed him in your embrace.

“Smell the flowers, spread the pollen,” you gently instructed, “just like the therapist taught you, yeah?”

Keigo inhaled sharply through his nose, a shaky breath leaving his open mouth soon after.

The two of you repeated these steps together, completely forgetting about your cold breakfast waiting for you on the stove.

“I promise you, Keigo,” you lifted up his bangs, kissing his forehead. “I’m not gonna let him get to you.”

[cuubism]

Gentleman Thief—Gentleman Thief—

💕Gentleman Thief💕

yes

hob's like, okay, i USED to just hold people up on the road and threaten them. but that's mean, i'm above that now. there are WAY more sophisticated ways of stealing stuff. and it's way more of a challenge to do it without force.

dream tolerates this hobby with both confusion and amusement.

hob: bet i can make off with that necklace with no one even stopping me

dream: you do not have to--

hob: oh i'm gonna

dream when hob presents him the necklace like, for my beloved: oh okay. i get it now 😳

dream does NOT see him steal it by the way. hob is too fast and too smooth about it. dream would swear he was watching but... somehow...

somebody manages to steal death's ankh necklace and she's kind of freaking out because that thing has a lot of power actually... and hob's just like oh don't worry honey, i can get that back for you in five minutes :) and just disappears and presents it to her not long after

death: how??????

hob: 😉 anything for my favorite sister in law

dream: goddamn i should have come met you FIRST before trying to get all my tools

hob: this is what i've been telling you

[maelstroms-blog]

A dreamling scene based on that one cartoon I don't know the name of

Dream, brooding, standing tall in full battle gear, with immaculate eyeliner: 'finally, I shall retrieve my helm from the demon thief'

Hob pokes his head around the corner:

'Hey love, you want me to save your dinner for you?'

Dream: '...yes please'

*waits until Hob is out of earshot*

'...And if I have to fight all of Hell then so be it'

Hob calls out: 'Do you want a brownie along with your dinner?'

Dream perks up, 'you made brownies?'

[symphony-calamity]

Can’t help making OCs so if I ever actually publish this fic my readers will get to meet my darling Cammie. She’s Hob’s hacker/partner in crime, and also a serious Dreamling shipper.

[kirkenovak]

I’ve watched the Dungeons and Dragons movie too many times for it to be healthy and I decided to make it everyone else’s problem.

Honor Among Thieves/Dreamling crossover?

The Endless exist in the DnD setting but they don’t concern themselves with the affairs of gods and mortals, they just ARE. They exist outside the planes and influence all of them, albeit in different ways. They aren’t worshipped and usually aren’t well known.

Dream and Death do their visit to the mortal realm and meet Hob Gadling, Dream and Death have their bet and Hob becomes immortal. Now, in the DnD, unnaturally long lives aren’t that unheard of. There are elves who had already been adults when Hob became immortal, who are still alive. Arguably, Hob could pass himself off as a weird half-elf hybrid and no one would be too surprised he’s been knocking about for several centuries. But a human that not only lives long but doesn’t die? At all? No matter the manner of death, no matter the damage done to him, he just gets up again and keeps on trucking? No. That’s not normal. That shit’s weeeeeird. You don’t want to be advertising that unless you want every evil wizard warlock lich sorcerer and whathaveyou knocking on your door. So Hob still has to hide.

He of course still meets Dream every 100 years in the inn (every paladin and cleric with divine sense in the area does a little >_>). He still pretends to be his own son. He still does hundreds of different things. He still has a fight with Dream that causes Dream to walk out on him. He still buys the White Horse and waits for Dream. Dream is still captured by Burgess, a mighty wizard who really REALLY wants to conquer death but doesn’t want to be an undead because yuck.

Meanwhile, Xenk Yendar has met Hob in his travels several times already and is absolutely not buying the “I’m his son, I’m the son’s son, I’m the son’s grandson” excuse but Hob seems harmless, commits no evil acts (that Xenk knows of *coughscoughs*) and doesn’t register as anything otherworldly or undead so Xenk leaves him alone. That is until he walks into The White Horse one day, sees Hob for the first time in years and immediately senses that this is a temple, the land is consecrated, this man is the priest. The problem? A priest of what exactly? Normally it’s not really his business but given that Hob is a bit shady to begin with, it just doesn’t seem right. He asks Edgin for help, after all, who better to charm and swindle his way into Hob’s good graces and get some answers than a professional conman/thief/ex-Harper/bard who just doesn’t do magic, no seriously, what’s the deal with that.

This is where Ilmater decides to intervene. Sure, normally he wouldn’t stick his Devine nose in the matters on the Endless but he is the god of suffering, and both Dream and Hob are suffering, albeit in different ways. He sends his favourite paladin a vision of Dream and Hob, who then confines in Edgin and his crew and so, the DnD version of the fishbowl heist is born!

Starring: Xenk, the hottest paladin in existence; Edgin the spell-less bard; Edgin’s barely concealed lust for Xenk; Doric the most OP wildshape in existence; Simon the Sorcerer (no not the game, the game is great tho. Available on iOS. Try it. Starring Chris Barrie of the Red Dwarf fame as the voice of Simon. It has a sequel too tho not as good); Hob Gadling, the immortal but he can’t reveal he’s immortal and also has no idea who Dream is or what his true nature or even name is… wow he’s kinda useless in this setting and nobody trusts him; and Holga the carrying everything on her broad shoulders.

[strangelittlestories]

I share an allotment with a group of like-minded, similarly afflicted mythics and metaphoricals.

They’re mostly a nice bunch - escapees from legend, myth and folklore, mainly.

There’s a couple of nice ancient warrior men who help me carry bags of compost (when they’re not too busy making eyes at each other).

Then there’s the werewolf who scares a lot of the pests away and grows lovely blood oranges in the greenhouse.

I don’t always get on with the sirens, who keep trying to add salt water to the fish ponds, but I do have to admit they harmonise beautifully. Mainly they sing about sustainable farming and permaculture - but that could just be what I hear…

We get a few brownies and hobs, too - and we’ve agreed a fair percentage of each harvest to be set aside for them, in exchange for their labour and the little magics that they offer to make mundane tasks go a bit quicker.

The main problem I have (other than rare Editor turning up - and we’ve managed to repulse all their incursions so far) is with the seer with whom I share the herb garden.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, we get along okay. I’m what those in the know would call ‘a blindspot in the weave’, which means I don’t show up in prophecies - so she doesn’t need to worry about giving me dire warnings for me to ignore. It saves on foreboding wailings and I Told You So’s and largely makes for a chiller relationship.

But I am nearly certain that she’s been stealing my herbs.

Not the dangerous or esoteric ones, mind. Usually it’s just perfectly ‘literal’ cooking herbs that go missing. And I’m fairly sure it’s her, because the leaves are always plucked right on the morning they’re ready.

I’ll be heading over to the allotment, excited for the day’s gardening, and sorting through my list of the various plants who’ve whispered through their roots (and into my dreams) that they’re ready to be harvested (along with the latest plant gossip).

And then I arrive and the stalk of my herbs are bare and when I sing and croon to them and ask who did this, they keep stubbornly silent.

I mean … it’s not a big deal. It’s a small price to pay for an otherwise very equitable arrangement. It just grates sometimes; sticks in the craw, y’know?

But I guess it’s true what they say:

Prognostication is the thief of thyme.

[avelera]

Would love to see fic recs for this but I’m intrigued by the idea of a dreamling fic where Dream creates a persona to get closer to Hob, really just out of curiosity and to observe him without disrupting their agreement but then, of course, he gets in too deep. My plotbunnies for this are twofold (though, also free to a good home!)

1) 1389 era, Dream decides to follow up on his new “project” and learns to his surprise and increasing curiosity (that he’d never admit to) that Hob is actually something of a unique bandit. He uses charm instead of force whenever possible and seems to dislike violence even while he’s good at it. He’s still a brigand and a thief and a ne’erdowell but he makes a sincere effort to try to convince their marks to part peacefully with their money and if say their more attractive daughters or sons spend a few days with Hob’s band as ransom, they return unharmed (and some with stories of a roll in the hay with a certain charming bandit).

It’s these stories that draw Dream initially, especially as they begin to filter into the Dreaming in the form of fantasies by those who hear the tales and certain poets imagining their own version. When he discovers it’s Hob who is the source of one of these tales, of course Dream has to investigate further. And of course that means being taken hostage. It did NOT mean falling in love with Hob in the course of being taken hostage, while Hob puzzles over where the heck he’s supposed to ransom this lordling to since apparently he doesn’t exist. Oh also Hob is immortal now and still trying to figure all that out and this latest hostage, while not quite the same looking as the man at the White Horse, does give him the strangest sense of deja vu…

2) Similar premise, modern times, Dream picks an appearance that’s close enough to himself to set off all of Hob’s Dream-related kinks but not so close as to be mistaken for him, but they’re non exclusive, Hob’s not looking for anything serious, his stranger just came back into his life after all but there’s no chance there anyway so no reason not to date on the side. Cue “You’ve got mail” esque mistaken identity love story where shapeshifter Dream actually does have the modicum of acting skill and social awareness to pull off being a different, human person (this is AU after all and there’s always magic to mend any missteps) of Dream getting increasingly jealous of… himself?? Both Hob’s feelings for the disguised version of him and the disguised version getting frustrated that Hob keeps holding back because part of him will always hold out hope for the real Dream, not this other handsome goth guy he’s dating as a fix.

[gabessquishytum]

What about dream saving selkie hob?

Either Dream was visiting some local rich lord when he saw the skin hanging in a cabinet. Dream instantly knew what it was even before the lord showed off his captured selkie. Dream falls in love at first sight with hob and steals the skin, meaning that hob is his now—and all hob’s fears melt away when Dream instantly returns his skin, no strings attached.

Or dream is a thief who comes across the skin, thinks it’s soft and steals it and is very confused when a beautiful man follows him and says he now belongs to dream…

I LOVE the idea of Dream stealing the skin with absolutely no idea what it is. Hob just follows him around like a lost puppy, somewhat irritated but also growing fonder of Dream by the moment.

Dream still doesn't make the connection between Hob and the skin (because Hob doesn't tell him!) so he just thinks that he's acquired a kind of weird boyfriend/sidekick. He gets Hob to help him out with stealing stuff, they share lodgings, Dream figures that Hob will get sick of him eventually but he... doesn't.

Eventually they run into Death, who recognises what Hob is - and immediately scolds Dream for keeping this poor selkie against his will! Dream is horrified, of course, while Hob just smirks and rolls his eyes. Dream immediately hands over his skin, but instead of running off, Hob kisses Dream’s cheek and asks what they'll be stealing next?

And that's how Dream accidentally gets a selkie husband without even trying. He'd like to say that he belongs to Hob, rather than the other way around <3

[dyns33]

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.