#waited so long for poll results posted an entire fic in the meantime 💀

[zarnzarn]

"Repeat that," Dream says, gliding into the booth silently. Everyone goes still, like prey, backs stiff and eyes wary. "An omega who...?"

For all their bluster about being the strongest of humanity, not one of them replies for a long while. Dream waits, patiently.

"Who has not been mate-caught in six hundred years," Someone finally says. Dream raises an eyebrow. They crumple. "Yeah, he's human. No one knows his deal, he only ever tells anyone he's decided to never be caught and never was."

Dream hums. Another joke of his sister's, then. She did so enjoy making all the immortality seekers lose their mind by granting it to random people once in a while.

Still, he's intrigued that this one's mind never came to his notice with the way the dreams of all overlong lifespans eventually buckle under the strain.

"Show me," He commands. There's a collective intake of breath, and pained eyes darting at each other. His brows furrow, and he skims their minds- swirls of panic over betrayal of a friend, daymares of an Endless breaking in what the whole world considers an unbreakable man, plans to extract the omega before the run started.

Dream barely holds back a roll of the eyes. As if an omega from the 1300s did not live through the sweet origin and dark horror of the Mating Runs both.

"Hob Gadling," He murmurs, pulling the name onto his tongue as he turns to leave. Many dream of him, across the globe, of both inflicting violence and taming him with affection, and hopeful daydreams of youngsters wanting to be him, or be his friend. Many have written and spoken his name through the ages, and many have been close to him, until Dream can almost pluck the golden-hued outline of him from the air.

He ignores the yelling from the League of Justice as he sweeps away to the entrance of the starting line, ignoring the way people gasp and scatter out of his way as he scouts them, fear in their eyes.

He turns a corner, wondering idly if he should tuck the League and their associates into a dimension for a bit while he assagues his curiousity as they yell panickedly at him and try to lead him away without touching him in any way.

"What's all the commotion?" A voice cuts through, familiar vibrations from the memories Dream has just pulled on, and he turns.

Everything stops. Dream feels the outfit he'd worn 672 years ago coalasce onto his skin, complete with the crown. "Oh," He manages.

"It's you," Hob Gadling says, with a note of wonder in his voice. He barks a laugh. "You bastard, you never did show up those hundred years later!"

"Hob!" The Amazon princess hisses in fear, jogging forward to take his elbow and whisper in his ear. "That is the Nightmare King! For once, I beg you, be respectful, he is more powerful-"

"I'll admit, I had not imagined you would have survived even to that," Dream murmurs, the stadium falling silent as they realise he's there and actually speaking for once. He has not indulged in the habit since the failed summoning, much. "I only heard of you seventy seconds ago, as the omega running the Mate Runs for over six hundred years."

Hob clicks his tongue chidingly, shaking his head mockingly. "Well, even I cannot forgive a friend five hundred years late to a meeting." And then he looks at Dream, tilting his head as he seems to see right through to the core of him, lips splitting into a wicked grin. "Unless, of course, you're here to try and take a bite."

Dream's breath catches in his chest, sand swirling to life around his body as he meets determined brown eyes, blazing with passion and mania.

The princess breaks out into scolding as she physically tries to drag Hob away, her associates and other strangers around joining her, trying to distract Dream and keep him from Hob.

He licks his lips, feeling the horrors that make up half of him banging to be let out.

There are so many watching.

He shouldn't. He knows how this ends.

Hob still stares back at him with a proud smile and no fear and his restraint snaps.

"Do you think you can escape an Endless?" Dream purrs, stepping forward. "Do you think that I am not every inch your worst nightmares? That I not would be barbaric enough to discard your species' silly custom for the new obsession it is and throw you down to the floor and have you right now, in front of everyone, in the old ways I know you still remember? That I would not win your challenge immediately, if I participate, and have you by your own rules instead?"

Hob chuckles, stepping forward to meet him in return, even as despair coats those around them as they watch their foremost omega champion sign away his fate in a fit of stupidity. He surveys Dream head to toe, body language nothing but interested as he twists his neck and wrists, getting closer. A roar is building in Dream's chest, fire licking up his throat to the back of his teeth, as Hob slowly brings his hands up.

And shoves Dream to the ground.

"If you want to actually prove yourself, you'll be human for the race," Hob says casually, crouching down on his heels to Dream's level. And he meets Dream's eyes levelly, and Dream knows he remembers why the Runs were made, how do many alphas and omegas who fell in love before would tear each other apart in their passions, hair-trigger temperaments disastrous for pairings until tired out in advance. Which is why humans all should have formed socially acceptable triad relationships, but it's not Dream's job to correct a species' stupidity to ignore their own evolution. "You're down in the mud, like any of us, see?"

And he has other problems.

Hob smirks, dark-eyed and sharp-toothed.

"And if you want me," Hob continues lowly, arousal painting his tone. Dream pulls enough from the memory-river to know this is extremely erratic behaviour for him, and cannot bank the smoke in his lungs and trembling in his claws at the idea of this omega's craziness being just for him. "Too fucking bad. So did a lot of beings, Nightmare King. Even your sister couldn't catch me. What makes you any different?"

With that, Hob rises to his feet and walks away. Dream's mouth falls open in offense, even as his lips are still upturned in excitement, sparking a chain-reaction of tittering fear in all the people standing around him.

Oh, this one. This one would do nicely.

"Hob!" He calls, dissolving his robe for a set of looser running clothes, smirking as he watches the other's fingers twitch as he catches sight of the accepted invitation. Dream can catch him. He remembers, after all, the long history of this event and what alphas of today so easily have discarded as a stupid ritual.

And exactly how Hob dreams to be romanced.

"Would you accept my courtship?" Dream breathes, pushing himself into the other's space and holding out a small flower from the bush behind Hob's house that his parents had carefully planted when they finally stopped travelling, tied in the ribbon that Dream had absent-mindedly absconded with from the White Horse that had once stood where they stood now. "To know you and yours, to have your claws in my flesh, to forgive my transgressions?"

"In your dreams," Hob laughs, even as he bends to Dream's fingers and lets the flower be tucked behind his ear, clever eyes sparking with mirth. Dream's lips twitch.

Hob straightens up and studies him, a hint of seriousness this time. "Only if you catch me," He says finally, and Dream's newly made heart skips a beat. "Which you won't."

"We'll see," Dream promises. Hob smiles and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, light as snow. Grabs him by the neck and throws him to the ground again, and Dream is already laughing as he hits the floor.

"READY!" The announcer yells as Dream walks over to the starting line, alphas scattering out his way with yelps as he makes his way to the front.

"SET!" People are still screaming protests.

Hob looks back at him, unconcerned, and grins. Dream smirks back.

"GO!"