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tiabritana · 11 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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currentlyonstandbi · 2 years

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 7 days

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pt II sandman but i've never watched or read it

It's happening again I'm being kidnapped again there's no hope left for me god I'm so in love with Dream he's such a cutiepie uh right this post okay. I'm uh the Good Omens Mascot and I'm losing my mind here have part two based on whatever I have understood from y'all's replies to my first post.

It's Neil's baby and a lot of amazing artists are involved. One of whom made Dream look like a gooey pile of sad adorableness in volume 1.

Dream is a sad wet lonely repressed cat of a man. No I do not have one type.

There's this dude whom I think is named the Corinthian. He's a dream (but not Dream) and he can see things.

His eyes are mouths and his teeth are apparently Very White and any dental hygienist would orgasm at the sight.

Dream was kept prisoner for a century. Where? I don't fucking know. Why? I don't fucking know. How? Er there was some kind of. Glass (?) case.

There's a sleeping sickness while he's gone coz things got weird.

His raven is killed by someone and maybe he should have forgiven him but he could not.

Something happens at the end of Volume 7 that people need to recover from.

There's someone with glasses who keeps telling Dream stuff and they're Very Important and I have no fucking clue who they are.

There's someone named Freddie and people are feral for him and I don't know who he is.

Dream is just constantly on the verge of tears. Always. Just fucking always. Poor baby.

Sandman more like Sadman amirite.

He thinks everything ever is his fault. Mood.

EVERYONE KEEPS REASSURING ME THERE IS NO CANONICAL INCEST BUT APPARENTLY BOTH DREAM AND DESIRE HAVE SEXUAL TENSION WITH EVERYONE INCLUDING THEIR FAMILY AND EACH OTHER AND THEY ARE SIBLINGS AND AAAAAAAAA.

The family is Endless btw and I don't know what that means but they are.

Dream has a boyfriend (long distance? idk they keep meeting each other every 100 years) named after a cooking stove who calls Dream out for being lonely and Dream doesn't like that and they fight and then they go into the rain etc etc.

Hob is immortal because he does not want to die and he is convinced that humans only die because they uh think there's no other option. It's giving just think positive thoughts.

Dream almost stands him up but then doesn't some bar is moved.

There are keys to Hell and Dream doesn't know what to do with them.

There are tools and they make you weak.

Desire has all the genders.

I am apparently exactly like Delirium.

Dream is a sad wet cat at one point and then he turns into a shadowy being with cute bright eyes.

Dream is fucking pretty in every single fucking century like oh my fuckING GOD I AM SO GAY

Tom Sturridge (?) is Dream's actor and he has chemistry with everyone on screen apparently which leads to incest vibes

There's some kind of fucking Grape Incest scene

Despair is played by Mrs Sandwich

Death is kind and cuddles a dead baby at one point

It's gay but I do not know HOW it is gay but I am assured it is Gay

Er. Feel free to correct me.

#the sandman #the sandman comics #dream of the endless #dream x hob #neil gaiman #sandman fandom #desire of the endless #the corinthian #tom sturridge #death of the endless #despair of the endless #the sandman netflix #good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #pt II sandman

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petrodragonicapocalypse · 2 years

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oh my god this is so bad my pen's running out of ink and my brain is in shambles. anyway hit post

quote from what we do in the shadows

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windsweptinred · 1 year

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Metamorphosis

Based in this post

The AU Where Morpheus doesn't retire and become mortal, but marries up and gets a promotion...

Part One

3 months earlier

The bedsheets rustled as Hob stirred, breaking the near perfect silence of the bedroom. In the distance, waves of revelry carried across the breeze from the city centre, and the odd crawl of traffic from the road out back could be heard through the window. London never truly slept..

Hob pawed at the empty bed beside him before furrowing his brows. Peeling an eye open reluctantly and gazing blurrily towards Dream's perch on the window sill.

"Dream?" He called questioningly, before rubbing at his eyes. Lifting his head and fumbling for his phone resting on the bedside table. "What time is it? 2.05!" Dropping back with an overly dramatic grunt, he covers his eyes with the heels of his hands and let out an exaggerated groan. "Umph. I have to be up in four hours!"

Smiling softly at his lover's behaviour, Dream turned to rest his forehead against the cool pane of glass, momentarily flinching at the remembrance of the cold sting against his skin. Before gazing upwards in contemplation.

" Night seems muted somehow."

Hob pulled a pillow out from beneath his head, resolutely bringing it down over it again with a huff.

"That's air pollution for you poppet."

Dream looked up at the moon, a hazy blur of light, lording over an inky sky of equally sickly looking stars. Blinking feebly in competition with the bright lights of the city below. Placing a hand flat against the smooth surface, he took a deep inhale, tentatively reaching out towards his mother, feeling a lazy waft of irritation in return.

"Perhaps"

Hob peered one eye out from beneath his goose feather fortress, before pulling himself free with a sigh. "Dream, come back to bed. Your simple human needs a few more hours if he's going to face 30 odd freshmens tomorrow."

Pulling his bare legs out from beneath him, Dream dropped gently to the floor. Hob's old shirt hanging in gently folds about his thighs, one sleeve draped precariously off his shoulder. Tip towing silently across the floor and slinking back into the bed, Hob granted him a tired yet loving, lopsided grin. Already fighting the droop of his eyelids.

"Look at you, shining like a star."

Dream smiled indulgently as Hob let out a loud yawn. Tucking himself snuggly against the side of his body. Basking in the heat of his duvet cocooned skin. With his head neatly resting in the curve of Hob's neck, he let out a small chuckle. "I do no such thing Hob Gadling."

He felt Hob's fingers run a gentle figure of eight into his shoulder blade.

"Then why's your skin twinkling like a bag of diamonds?" He mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Dream rolled his eyes, burying his nose into Hob's jawline. "You are a hopeless romantic when you are halfway to my realm my darling. Now…" He ran a hand featherlight over Hob's face. "Sleep."

With a snuff, Hob eyes closed and dropped almost instantly into a peaceful slumber. Glancing idly about the room, Dream's eyes caught the glaring numbers of the stereo display. 12.15 am. Hob's sleep-addled brain must have misread the time.

"I too wish for more time, beloved."

…….

2 months earlier

Hob exited the door of the shared English and History department, taking in a lungful of fresh, early evening air. He swore they'd painted the windows shut back in the 90s. The last time the university had seen fit to refurbish the building. His demeanour quickly lit up when he noticed the slim, dark figure of Dream resting against the bonnet of his car. Head tilted back, seemingly observing the deep reds of the sunset. Walking to meet him with a renewed jig in his step, Hob greeted him with a peck to the cheek and twinning his arms about the Dream's slim waist, propping his head upon his leather clad shoulder. Feeling the residual warmth left by the setting sun on the fabric.

Dream turned to observe him, eyes flitting about, cataloguing the toll the day had taken on him before smiling a small, sweet smile. "You glow today my love."

Hob barked a laugh, re shouldering his work bag and running a hand through his tousled hair. "That's a nice way of saying I still look hideously hungover duck. I appreciate it."

Dream pulled away, angling his lithe body to fully face Hob.

"I do not jest. You shine with life. If I did not already know such a thing to be impossible, I would say you looked younger." He reached up, sweeping aside an errant strand of auburn hair from Hob's eyes. "Vitalised."

Hob let out a snort, placing a quick peck upon Dream's brow, licking at the sweet remnants of 'dream' stuff it left upon his lips. "If you say so, love. Yesterday I swear I looked and felt every one of my 600 odd years. My hair was practically grey I tell you."

The starlight pinpricks hidden within Dream's pupils flared in what Hob had come to learn was amusement. For a brief moment, he swore he saw the first stars of the evening, scattered haphazardly amongst the intertwined reds and blues of sunset, flare back.

" You are as vibrant as the day we met."

Hob smirked at that, crowding Dream backwards until he half sat on the car bonnet. Leaning forward until they were but a hair's breadth apart. He whispered cock surely, "That's what you thought of me was it? Covered in shit and smelling twice as fragrant? Vibrant?"

A challenging spark lit in Dream's eyes as he quirked his lip, before pouncing forward, arms wrapped tight about Hob's neck, claiming his lips in a searing kiss.

A raucous chorus of wolf whistles sounded somewhere behind them, followed by a riotous roar of hoots and cackles. A group of students who'd obviously begun the night early. Hob pulled away, rolling his eyes, before giving his ear an embarrassed tug out of habit.

He watched Dream take in the group with a fond expression. Wondering passingly what he knew of them. Their lives, their hopes, their dreams. When Dream turned his attention back to him, Hob's breath hitched in wonder. His eyes, usually pools of blue or as pitch black as the midnight sky, were now a wash with soft, mingling hues of reds, purples and blues. As if someone had captured the dusk sky around them and painted it onto Dream's eyes. He took a moment silently, to once again thank whatever entity watched over him, for deeming him worthy of this ethereal, beautiful creature in his arms

"What were you looking at anyway?"

Dream looked to the sky, and once again, the stars seemed to blink brightly in response. As if clamouring for his attention.

"The stars are singing. Can you hear them?"

Hob smiled adoringly, kissing Dream one last time before detangling himself from their embrace, working his way round the car and sweeping the passenger door open with a flourish.

"If you say so sweetheart. Come on, let's head home."

…..

One month earlier

Hob pawed at the meat of Dream's thigh, hefting it higher as his thrusts increased their tempo. About his shoulder, he felt Dream's other knee tighten in a vice grip. His toes, resting near the centre of Hob's back, clenched with every snap of Hob's hips. Mouthing desperately at the beautiful pale breast below him, he felt the familiar sensation of his coming climax alight like a sparkler.

"Oh god, I'm close, I'm…" And suddenly, he was adrift. Gone was Dream and in his place he was being held aloft in the vast, endless skies of night. He felt the cold embrace encompass his body, gently, lovingly. About him, stars and comets danced and flared in a frenzied, joyus display. From within him, he felt a heat, a great light pulse and grow. A power, an essence unfurling within him like a flower, opening to embrace the first rays of dawn. He was a great wave crashing against a slowly eroding cliff face, he was sun and shadow, weaving its way about an ancient sundial. He was the very turn of the seasons, rotating like a great wheel, over and over.

And then, there was the night again, about him. Stroking, clawing, adoring, challenging. He battled back, he loved back. He felt the pull and push, light and dark, heat and cold… expanding and condensing. Building, building, building… Then… Bang.

Hob, melted rather than pulled off Dream. Flopping down beside him on the bed.

His body, a mass of quivering gelatin, he was sure couldn't hold him if he tried. He took lungfuls of the stale, bedroom air, thick with the heady aroma of sex and desperately tried to catch his breath. Next to him, Dream seemed to fare no better. Sprawled out comatose, hands clutching at his head and heart. A glazed, almost vacant expression on his face.

Somewhat, regaining the use of his vocal cords, Hob turned his head towards Dream, croaking, "Holy Fuck what was that?!"

Dream gazed at the ceiling for a few moments longer before languidly rolling onto his side to face Hob. His eyes spoke of bone deep exhaustion but also utter contentment.

"I do not know. That has never happened before."

Somewhere deep in Hob's subconscious, his ego stuck its chin out, gave a pompous, self congratulatory cockcrow and proceeded to strut elatedly. As it was, he sent Dream a slightly pleased, knackered looking smile.

"Shit, seriously?"

Dream nodded his head slightly in confirmation.

Hob paused for a moment before sending Dream a devilish look, "Was it just me, or did Big Ben go off just as we came?"

Dream eyes crinkled as a huffed chuckle escaped him. Hob guffawed in response. And thus they greeted the morning, snickering to each other like naughty children.

……

The present day

The rain pelted incessantly from above, Dream's hair lay in sodden clumps, water draining from them streaking down his face, his shirt was soaked through. Yet he felt nothing. He clutched desperately to the cliff edge he sat upon, pressing the jagged rock into his palms, making it bite in the flesh. He willed it to pierce, to cut, to hurt, to make him bleed. Below, his realm was torn asunder. He wondered what it would be like to push himself forward, fall freely into the destruction below. Escape wantonly into oblivion. Would it be kinder, less painful then what was to come?

"Take my hand little brother."

He stared at Death's palm outstretched, he could not look her in the eyes. It would just be another unsaid farewell, another desperate want to stay, another moment fighting the urge to lay himself prostrate at her feet and beg for more time.

He took a deep shuddering breath, attempting to calm his nerves. His arm felt like a deadweight as he lifted it. At once conflicting emotions of panic and relief rose from within him, overwhelming the numbness. His senses dulled and head roared simultaneously and he rocked forward toward his sister in a blind, nauseous haze. Soon it would be over… I'm sorry, I don't want to, I'm so tired, please don't make me go, I'm sorry, I can rest, I'm sorry…I love you…

"Stop!"

Hob

He felt himself being hauled into the confines of two strong arms, that locked about him like an iron cage, resolute in keeping their captive from all. In that moment, as his mind frantically scrambled to process everything, aeons of repressed pain broke from the tight binding he had placed about it. And cradled in Hob's embrace, mere seconds from his death, his reserve finally crumbled and he unabashedly wept.

In his misery, he felt the unexpected sting of sharp metal pierce his chest and wondered if this was what it was to die. Yet further it plunged deeper and deeper still, until it hooked his heart and pulled. And he knew then what this was. For the first time in countless centuries, Dream allowed his mind to be reeled in without resistance. As grey mists filled his lungs and phantom hands clutched at him, pressing him maternally to a soft stomach. There he lay in the clutch of Despair, as she petted his hair and cooed softly to him. As her rats scurried about him, gently nuzzling his body. Slowly, he became aware of a thud reverberating around them. Quiet at first, but growing steadily louder. A drumming, strong and proud that sent the rats scattering…. A heartbeat he realised. Was it Hob's heart pounding frantically under his ear, no… No he was not with Hob, he was being held from behind, two arms wrapped about his chest, beautifully manicured hands placed on his breast framing his heart. The smell of peaches smothered him and as his senses roared to life.

'Fight it big brother, do you hear me? Fight it! Desire happiness, desire to be loved as you love. But most of all desire life. Let yourself desire big brother. Please, please!..' "Please, please don't!"

"Hob, you should not be here."

Hob.

He snapped back to the moment, feeling the painful, vice-like grip of Hob's hand in his hair, fiercely holding his head to his chest. Above them, he felt the rain still pelt down, below, the rock scrapped at his knees through his sodden jeans. Feebly, Dream reached out, grasping a handful of Hob's drenched shirt, clenching it in his hand like a tether.

"Please Death, don't take him, I beg you! I love him." Hob pulled Dream's body even closer to his. Rocking them both in a soothing motion, Dream was not sure if it was for his benefit, or Hobs. "I love him."

As his vision cleared, the form of his sister slowly became apparent, kneeling at their side. A respectful distance away so as to not cause Hob further distress. From the protective barrier of Hob's arms, he met her eyes, awash with unshed tears. Dream wished desperately to reach out and comfort her, but for the first time in their shared existence, feared her touch. Instead he clung tighter to Hob's shirt, feeling the hitch of Hob's body as he hopelessly failed to hold back sobs.

How was it he could bring such pain to those he loved when he wished them none?

"Hob please, it is not so simple..."

Dream opened his mouth, tongue laden as he tried to speak, he worked his throat fruitlessly for a few moments as his voice sought to restore itself, before he let out a weak, "I don't… I don't.. "

Hob's startled, pushing Dream from his chest and reaching to carefully cradle his face with two trembling hands. "Dream, love? Dream?"

"I do not wish to leave you."

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #death of the endless #desire of the endless #despair of the endless #The sandman #the sandman fanfic #dream x hob #hob x dream #hob x morpheus

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youcanseethecosmos · 2 years

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More Thoughts on my Dreamling Actors AU

Dream and his siblings are still called The Endless and they all go by their "stage" names. Does anyone know their last names? Nope. Do they even have last names? We'll never know! But damn are they good actors

Desire and Dream are their resident movie stars. Death and Delirium are more into musical theater but dabble in TV shows every now and then. Destruction solely does indie films and is a fantastic character actor. Destiny had retired from acting and is now a director/producer. Despair does voice acting.

When The Endless have a family dinner, it's the subject of entertainment news for weeks. Something always happens.

Their parents once met on a movie set — a noir film that included all the cliches.

Dream's first movie role got him nominated for an Oscar. This pisses off Desire who didn't get a nomination until their 5th movie.

Hob got into acting after he took a free acting masterclass from one of his colleagues at his university. He fell in love with it and decided to go "fuck it, ive got nothing left to lose!"

Hob's first movie with Dream was a period piece set in the 1300's. He was supposed to just be an extra but the director — who happened to be Destiny — liked him enough to give him a few scenes with Dream to see how it would work out. Hob shot up to stardom after that

Everyone always asks him what it's like to work with Dream so often. What he's like behind the scenes and if Dream gave him any advice because he's a new actor yada yada yada

His PR team always tells him to be polite and not say what he's thinking because they know he doesn't actually like Dream. Where he tells people it's an honor and a privilege to be acting alongside someone like him, he really wants to say that he wants to throw himself off a cliff whenever he's in the renowned actor's presence.

Hob thinks him selfish, arrogant, self-centered, and has a stick so far up his ass he wears it as a fucking hat.

But he can't say that or else he'll never work in this industry ever again.

Meanwhile Dream has grown fond of Hob Gadling. He always enjoys working with newer actors rather than seasoned veterans because they bring such fresh perspectives and a new way of going about different scenes.

But Dream is the most socially awkward man in existence when the cameras stop rolling.

When he wants to tell Hob that he did a good job, what comes out of his mouth is "I believe you could do better."

When he wants to say to Hob that their scene together showed really good chemistry, he ends up saying "Your collar was askew the whole time."

Literally he CANNOT for the life of him talk to Hob Gadling without sounding like an ABSOLUTE piece of shit. And it's FRUSTRATING because he WANTS to talk to Hob without giving him unwanted acting advice but he just blurts them out without thinking.

He just hopes Hob doesn't hate him for it

(spoiler alert: he does)

ayt i'll stop here first bc woo i have a lot of thoughts about it. might make other posts about this au soon bc its consumed my brain 24/7 xoxo

#dreamling #the sandman #morpheus x hob #hob x morpheus #dream of the endless #centennial boyfriends #hob x dream #hob gadling #dream x hob #hobmurphy #desire of the endless #death of the endless #despair of the endless #destiny of the endless #destruction of the endless #delirium of the endless #lights camera action: sky's dreamling actors au #pls i have so many thoughts

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mischiefs-hawk · 2 years

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I really like the idea that Hob is hope and represents like a flip side to the D-Endless. Like a side B on a CD.

I saw a similar post about this somewhere but I haven't seen anyone try to come up with the 6 others.

So if Time and Night had Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair and Delight/Delirium what's the opposite?

(again, a lot of this is from other dreamling posts that I don't remember enough to be able to find)

Reality and Light as the 'parents'

Destiny would be Harmonious or Hallow

Death's would be Hale

Dream's is Hope, obviously

Destruction's is Haunt

Desire would be Hunt

Despair's would be Horror

Delirium/Delight would be Haze

I do like the idea of these being Endless who are made instead of born.

#the sandman #the endless #neil gaiman #destiny of the endless #death of the endless #dream of the endless #morpheus #destruction of the endless #despair of the endless #desire of the endless #delirium of the endless #delight of the endless #netflix the sandman #dreamling #hob gadling #hob x dream #hob x morpheus

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ginzburgjake · 2 years

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a crossover idea:

hob and aziraphale happen to teach at the same uni (history and literature) and often go on rants about their wonderful emo/goth bfs with their stylish hair and all-black wardrobe. so, naturally, when crowley does appear, hob’s students think he’s cheating on hob with mr. fell, while aziraphale’s class think dream is cheating on him with mr. gadling

cue misunderstandings and silly shenanigans where two independent student groups try to catch the broody bfs in a lie that never existed… also, both pairs are unaware of each other (for maximum confusion) and share one (1) brain cell that is mostly borrowed by lucienne and anathema.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #good omens #crowly x aziraphale #aziracrow #pls someone write this #im not strong enough #i want this to exist immediately after i’ve thought it up #hob and aziraphale: why do students look at me with pity #dream and crowley: what the f did i do to piss those kids off #desire and despair: *watch the chaos unfold*

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rosaren2498 · 2 years

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Warnings: Angst, blood, torture in the name of science (like the Augustine Society from The Vampire Diaries), implied past rape (it also almost happens but is interrupted before it can go that far), past captivity/imprisonment, reader wishes for death, organ removal

Please be careful and let me know if I missed anything!!! I want to tag the warnings properly but I never know what might trigger someone.

Also, I usually write in Fem 3rd Person and then edit it to be 2nd Person so it's more gender neutral so please inform me if I missed anything during my editing process, I do this on mobile.

Nightmare or Memory

It was cold.

So cold that you had long stopped shivering. So cold that you had accepted long ago that you might never know warmth again.

It was cold, and you wished you could say it was dark, but the lights shining in your eyes never went away; never dimmed, darkened, nor turned off. At least not while you were conscious.

You minutely flinched at the sound of metal scrapping on metal; you knew by now what that sound meant. You caught a flash of metal out the corner of your left eye, the scalpel reflecting the bright white fluorescent lighting.

"How are we doing today?"

You bared your teeth even as you felt the warm press of the blade against the naked skin of your chest. It had used to be cold to the touch, but now it was warmer than you. "Go to hell," you hissed.

His laughter seemed to echo around you; it was almost as if he'd laughed directly into your ears. It was dark, twisted, almost aggravated. The way the blade dug into your skin reflected it; cruel and aggressive, not as precise as usual.

Your breath hitched at the sharp bloom of pain. You think you'd be used to it by now, after all this time, but the first kiss of the blade never failed to steal your breath. You bit back cries, screams, and pleas for surcease that you knew would fall on deaf ears and do nothing, save for make him smug. However, you could not withhold your tears. As you squeezed your eyes shut and prayed for your life to finally end, tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, running into your hair.

The scalpel was eventually exchanged for something to keep the y-shaped cut -now on your chest and bleeding- open and you choked on a sob as it was forced open further. Seconds later, the first scream tore from your throat as his hands rooted around inside you.

"Ah, here we are."

You choked again as a hand grabbed one of your lungs and began pulling, the scream that was building in your throat abruptly cutting off when the lung ripped free. You tasted copper and you couldn't breathe; your vision was rapidly darkening.

"Oh, come now, don't pass out on me just yet." The voice was distant, cold and disappointed. It was also the only warning you got before blinding pain lit up your every nerve-ending and you let out an unearthly scream that seemed to echo in the room. "There you go."

You gasped desperately for breath as the pain slowly began to subside, and you were almost too distracted to realize where his hands were now; almost. You stiffened at the press of fingers on your thighs, another choked sob slipping out. Your lung had already grown back and you took a deep breath to speak.

"Please. Please kill me," you begged.

He laughed cruelly, forcing your thighs further apart. "Why would I do that? You're so beautiful like this. Chest open, blood and tears all over, spread open for me..." His voice had taken on an almost desperate edge and you shuddered in revulsion.

You closed your eyes again as your breathing sped up. 'Please don't,' you thought. 'Please make it stop.' You gagged when something blunt and thick pressed against you, then everything went still. It was an unnatural stillness, accompanied by a preternatural silence interrupted only by your quick breathing, until someone suddenly spoke.

"Enough."

Your eyes snapped open at the deep voice that you did not recognize. The ceiling had been eclipsed by dark storm clouds that swallowed the bright fluorescent lights. It plunged the room into shadows, interspersed with flashes of lightning. The doctor that had been positioned between your legs was gone, as were all his tools, including the one keeping the cut on your chest open. Instead, there was a dark figure standing to the right of the table you were strapped to. You flinched when he moved, but he only unfastened the buckles of your restraints.

You eyed him warily, slowly sitting up when your hands were free; your wrists were bruised and bloody from your thrashing. Your thighs twitched with the urge to snap shut when his fingers brushed your ankle while he undid the restraints there too; as soon as you were free, you were curling up in an attempt to hide yourself. You weren't sure whether to thank him, or ask who he was. Your mouth opened, but it quickly shut with an audible click of teeth when he removed his coat and held it out to you. You hesitated only a moment, terrified he would snatch it back the moment you reached for it, before taking it and slipping it over your naked body.

"Thank you."

Your voice was quiet, rough and hoarse from your screams. You adjusted the coat to be tighter around you and were abruptly stunned by the scent that smacked you in the face. It was rich, ozone and thunderstorms, plus something you couldn't quite identify, though your mind whispered stars, as if they had a scent; it settled something inside you.

"Are you alright?"

His voice was as quiet as yours had been and you shuddered at how deep it was, curling further into his coat. You could still feel your own blood on your chest, could feel it sticking as it dried; you hoped none of it ended up on his coat.

"It's not the first time this has happened." Your eyes fell to the ground, your voice taking on a bitter tone. "It won't be the last." With your gaze on the ground, you missed the twitch and twist in his expression.

"This was not an ordinary nightmare."

It was not a question, but you shook your head and answered anyways. "Not a nightmare; a memory."

"How long has this plagued you?"

You looked up at him now, a frown marring your features. You felt your defensiveness rise up, but what you'd been about to say died in your throat when you met his eyes. Twin stars, burning, endlessly burning, stared out at you; you found yourself answering his question without thought and with complete honesty.

"130 years, give or take. 'Course, that's what happens when you spend well over a century held captive by a secret society hellbent on discovering your secret to immortality so that they may replicate it to 'better the world.' "

His expression darkened once more, but you did not find yourself afraid of him, even as the very shadows seemed to stretch out from him; something told you he wasn't angry with you.

"Who are you?" The words did not come out as demanding as you had meant them too, instead coming out more curious than anything. Though that was, perhaps, for the best. Just because he wasn't angry with you doesn't mean he couldn't be.

He eyed you as if debating whether or not he should answer your question. You shifted in your spot, a little uncomfortable with his intense gaze on you, as you waited; you could be patient, but the silence stretched on. Just as you were beginning to think he simply wouldn't answer, he spoke.

"I am Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares."

You stiffened once more, your grip on his cost tightening. An Endless. He was an Endless. "You... Fuck, you're an Endless. And not just any Endless. No, you just so happen to be the second most powerful Endless, and the King of Dreams and Nightmares. Wonderful."

Dream seemed startled by your knowledge of him. He stepped closer to you, his eyes narrowing. "You know of me?"

You snorted at the understatement, unable to help it. "Know of you? Just about everyone in the Supernatural Community knows of you, and your family, Lord Dream. Not everyone believes, of course, but I suppose you could call me a... special case. I've dealt with your family before. Plus, I believe you and I have a mutual friend: Hob Gadling."

Dream frowned. "What do you mean you've dealt with my family before? How do you know Hob?"

You shifted in place, tightening his coat around you once more. "Easy question first. I met Hob about 350 years ago, at that tavern that has since closed down. We spent most of the night drinking and talking. Actually, he spent the night talking about you, though he clearly had no idea who you were." You don't even try to hide fond smile on your face. "I knew right away that he wasn't normal, but it took him about 50 years to realize I wasn't human." You snorted, then startled when you realized there was the barest hint of a smile on his face. The tiny smile made his entire face seem to shift, becoming more open and inviting; it stole your breath.

"And how do you know of my family?"

The smile was wiped from your face as you abruptly tensed. You gave a heavy sigh, but were determined to be honest. "I've not met them all. I often speak with your older sister, Teleute, just about every time I see her. But I was originally introduced to your family when..." You trailed off, hesitating as one of your hands absentmindedly traced at your chest where you had been cut open. "Let's just say, I became intimately familiar with your younger sister's realm while I was held captive; I still keep in contact with her sometimes, though her twin is no longer welcome in my presence."

He raised an eyebrow at your vagueness. "You have something against Desire. What?"

You grit your teeth in remembrance. "That is extremely personal and I'd rather not discuss it. Let's just say I was foolish once and they took advantage, hm?" You can still remember their laughter, the look in their golden eyes when you had confronted them 130 years ago... No, you could not tell Dream that Desire was the reason you had been imprisoned, even if it had not been entirely intentional on their part; you still weren't convinced that it hadn't been.

His expression twisted, clearly irritated with the lack of a concrete answer, but, surprisingly, he did not push; perhaps he could tell how you would shatter if he did? He gazed at you for a silent moment before he spoke once more. "This nightmare won't trouble you any longer."

You blinked a few times, startled. You opened your mouth, planning on saying something, anything. Perhaps planning to ask if you heard him correctly, or maybe to ask him why he would bother, but his next words seemed to echo around the room and vibrate in your very bones.

"This dream is over."

---

You jerked awake in bed, sitting up and panting heavily. Your hand flew up to your chest, tracing the y-shaped scar that had rested there for over 200 years now; as your heartrate decreased, you took stock of the rest of yourself. Your hair was a tangled mess and you ran your fingers through it in a futile attempt to tame it. Your room was dark, though that was more due to your blackout curtains than it being late; the light peaking out underneath them and the clock on your bedside table told you that it was almost 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Hob would be expecting you at the New Inn soon.

You leveraged yourself out of bed, freezing the moment you looked down at yourself. You were still wearing your typical wine-colored tank top and black shorts that you always wore to bed, but over top them was a long black coat; the inner-lining was made of a veritable night sky. The end of your nightmare came back to you and you had to practice slow breaths so as not to hyperventilate; well, you had quite the story for Hob when you saw him at work... and Teleute the next time they saw each other too. Although... how were you supposed to return his coat?

#the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #mentioned Death of the Endless #mentioned Hob Gadling #mentioned Desire of the Endless #mentioned Despair of the Endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x you

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tiabritana · 11 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, my mother.” He said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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zorawitch · 1 year

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Dont know that anyone is going to care but...

i honestly cannot pick because all of these were and are labors of love and if i make a few of you decide for me, i can work on my other fics in the meantime.

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delta-pavonis · 1 year

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Fic Update: You create me against your lips Chapter 7

You create me against your lips

Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated T (for now) || In Progress Hellknight!Hob, Alternate Universe, Dream is a little dark (as a treat), D/s overtones, spoilers for Seasons of Mists, happy ending (eventually), will be D/s, will be gentle dom!Dream, sub!Hob, a totally different take on Hob as a knight, Desire of the Endless, bit of an alternate take on 1389, alternate take on Seasons of Mists, Despair of the Endless

He does not raise his voice when he speaks - he knows that he will be heard even at a distance. “I am looking for what anything looks for at the borders of its cage: a way out.”

I have started embedding @teejaystumbles amazing artwork directly into the fic. Only Chapter 1 for now, but there is at least one more that will go into Chapter 1 later, and then one that is definitely in Chapter 8, and then two others... TASHINA SPOILS ME.

#Dreamling #Hellknight!Hob #Hellknight Hob #Hob Gadling #Dream of the Endless #Desire of the Endless #Despair of the Endless #dream x hob #hob x dream #The Sandman #The Sandman fanfic

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doctorhouse5343 · 4 days

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Just as Dream's household was getting used to the new catboy, his sister Death began to show him pictures of cat hybrid twins, telling him that it would be a good idea, that those two need a loving family. The hiccup was that while he thought that Despair seemed sweet and wouldn't be a problem, Desire was a whole different story : they exuded an air of mischief and had a smug expression on their face in every photo (the poses didn't help either, he imagined them closing his laptop to lie on it dramatically, begging for a crumb of attention). But since it was Death he agreed, knowing that arguing would be pointless and that he couldn't use Hobo Heart being shy as an excuse : the catboy had asked for a coffin shaped cat bed; lid included; big enough for more than one cat, though the ravenette still had some doubts.

Eventually the cat twins arrived and soon settled in nicely : Despair had her own little space where she could be away for a bit when she felt the need to and Desire was exploring the area with an haughty expression on their face, calling the home decor 'Dracula's castle on Wish.com' as they then lied down on the couch. The newcomers got along with Destruction just fine, they really liked the dogboy and liked Hob as well, though there was no sign of the elusive skull-face cat boy anywhere. Bored out of their minds and deciding to explore some more, Desire came across a weird coffin bed with the lid partially moved and just as they were about to check further, dark bony fingers with bone markings on them lifted the lid further. Two glowing blue eyes came out of the darkness, the beast was about to come out until the cat diva shrieked and slammed it's head with a pillow before closing the lid, looking shocked when they heard a small 'Ouch, that was rude..' and saw a white-haired cat boy with a strange skeletal pattern on his body, his hair was sticking up in all directions. When Destruction recalled the story with a laugh, Desire would pout and glare, embarrassed by the fact that they got spooked by a weird cat

I just had to add the twins, they are so fun

#eternally yours au #cute quadrouple #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #destruction of the endless #despair of the endless #desire of the endless #creepypasta hobo heart #dream x hob x hobo heart x destruction #dream x catboy!hob x catboy!hoboheart x dogboy!destruction #catboy!Desire #catgirl!Despair #the sandman

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windsweptinred · 1 year

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My first ever fanfic on A03!! This is sooo exciting!! And also absolutely terrifying. 🙈😆

For those of you who have been keeping up with Metamorphosis... I guess you can say it's now officially available. 😁

Thank you so much for all your help @ibrithir-was-here ❤️

#Dreamling #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #daniel!dream #Daniel hall #death of the endless #desire of the endless #desire and despair #the sandman

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scifrey · 1 year

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Keepsakes

A Plane Ticket: Dream & Delirium

Status: Complete

Series: the Hob Adherent series (this is the last story in the series. No, really, I mean it.)

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death.

Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Johanna Constantine, Despair of the Endless, Orpheus, the Kindly Ones

Summary:

Morph and Hob travel to Naxos for their honeymoon, but once there, Hob is tasked with a quest as Vassal of the Endless that will force Morph to confront and amend one of his greatest past cruelties.

Picks up directly after the epilogue of Cling Fast.

READ ON AO3 or below:

Part One: Dream & Delirium

On their first night in Greece, Hob dreams of blood.

He knows it’s a dream about blood, in that way that you just know things in dreams. He feels it on his skin as soon as he registers that he’s asleep. It covers his hands, all the way to the elbows. It has to be blood, it’s too thick, too tacky as it dries, to be water.

It’s not the most comforting of dreams, especially since it’s supposed to be his honeymoon, and he definitely passed out butt-fucking-naked on the bougie sheets with Morph already drooling on his chest rug. Luckily, his lucid dreaming has gotten to the point where he can stop the nightmare cold in its tracks and assess where and when he is.

His husband may not be Dream of the Endless anymore, but the Dreaming still listens to Hob if he asks nicely.

But first, he clothes himself in his favourite cotton pajama set. No point in traumatizing whichever denizen he’s about to meet.

This is also a dream of darkness, that much is obvious, but little else. He can’t really see beyond his own nose. He reaches out. His palms find something hot and wet. Not a gush, not a pool, but a steady stream pouring down a… a stone. A wall of stone. Under his bare feet is… grass, he thinks. And more blood.

“A little more light, if you please,” Hob requests politely of the dream. Around him, he gets the sense of the dream considering his request and then reluctantly acquiescing. “Thank you.”

A thin grey light trembles over the landscape, like the first faint rays of dawn, lighting the ambient scene around Hob just enough to make out the ruby-red glimmer clinging to his skin. Hob’s hands are fair soaked in the stuff. In another life, this would have worried him, but he’s both unkillable and married to the abdicated King of Dreams and Nightmares–he doesn’t feel any pain at the moment, so he takes the blood for the metaphor it’s likely meant to be.

For what, he’s not sure just yet. Better to let the dream unfold than to make assumptions, he’s learned. Especially since they all try so hard.

Turning his attention to the rest of the dream, he gets the vague impression of a lush vale around him. The stone beside him resolves into a tall granite cliff that soars up, and up, and up, the top, if there is one, lost to the thick fog of a new day. The blood runs down the side of the cliff, from a single point high above him.

Below his feet, the grass is interspersed with small red flowers. They spring up where the blood runs along the ground in a stream, and pop into bloom wherever it drips off his arms. On inspection, they’re not quite poppies. At least, not like any Hob’s ever seen before, and due to his husband’s penchant for conveying his emotions through floriography, he thought he knew them all.

Motion in the periphery of his vision catches his attention. Quick as a snake, Hob whips his head around and pins the dream to the spot by staring directly at it.

Only it’s not like any dream or nightmare Hob’s ever seen. Usually nightmares are vividly coloured or deep-space black, uncanny and hard to look at directly because they slide out of the side of your vision. Usually dreams glimmer and bob around. This little denizen of the Dreaming sits on the grass, snuffling a tiny pink nose framed by droopy whiskers, tucking a naked pink tail shyly against its paws.

“What’s going on?” he asks the grey rat, crouching down slowly so as not to startle it. It takes a few steps forward and stops directly before him. “Who are you?”

The rat lifts itself up onto its hind legs, and instead of sniffing at Hob’s fingers like he expects it to, the rat tucks one arm against its breast, and the other behind its back, and executes a little bow.

Vassal - I task you with a quest of compassion, the rat says, in a voice that clearly isn’t its own. It is, luckily, one Hob recognizes.

“Despair,” Hob gasps. “Hi.”

Hi Hobsie , the rat drops out of the bow to clean its whiskers nonchalantly. Enjoying the honeymoon?

“The blood’s putting a bit of a damper on things, not gonna lie.”

The blood’s not my doing. That’s why I came.

Hob doesn’t like the sound of that. That feels like a thought that he should share, so he says: “I don’t like the sound of that.”

He sits on the grass, far enough away from the runnel of blood to stay dry, and the rat takes this as an invitation to climb onto his knee.

This is my quest, Despair continues, with an amusing, put-on air of formality. The rat, clearly unconcerned with being the mouthpiece of the anthropomorphic personification of all wretched misery in existence, licks curiously at the blood painting the side of Hob’s arm. It’s gross. But it’s also a rat. He’s seen them eat worse things. Find the fount from which this blood flows, and grant of the source its dying wish.

“That’s sad,” Hob says softly. He wipes his hands as best he can on his pajama shirt and touches the rat gently between its little pink ears. The rat leans into his pets, so he runs his sticky fingers down its fragile spine. “Poor creature.”

Piteous indeed , Despair agrees.

“You gonna give me any clues where to start?”

You will find guidance from the current scion of Constantine.

“Jo? Fantastic, just how I wanted to spend my honeymoon,” Hob tells the rat. “Isn’t your mistress just so helpful?”

The rat chirrups in its own voice, clearly agreeing with him, if Hob has anything to say about it.

Best I can do. Rules, you know, Despair says, dropping the formal speech. Say hi to Morphie for me, yeah?

“Sure,” Hob says easily. “And Despair?”

Yeah?

“I love all my in-laws, but stay the fuck out of my dreams while I’m spend the next three weeks railing your brother into the mattress, okay?”

Despair laughs, a thin, wet-sounding thing, and the dream dissipates like smoke haze.

Hob wakes slowly and sweetly to the sound of the Aegean washing against the shore, the feel of the honeyed morning sunlight pooling against his skin, and Morph’s greedy, hot mouth on his cock.

__________________

Morph, still adjusting to the sensations, limitations, and exertions of a mortal body, slips away for a midday nap after their large and boozy brunch in town. He’d had a few mimosas too many for his skinny frame. Hob uses the privacy to check the time difference, and then call the descendant of a woman who once shoved the tip of a shiv up his nostril.

“What,” Joanna Constantine snaps, when she answers.

“And hello to you, too, Lady Constantine,” Hob says genially, too used to her abrasive sass to be offended.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off on your honeymoon? Why are you calling me?”

“You know about that?” Hob asks, puttering his way around the rented villa’s kitchen.

Hob has a vague notion of having a tea-tray ready for Morph when he wakes, though what his poor husband will likely need is actually acetaminophen and water. Morph hasn’t quite got the hang of where the line between tipsy and liver-failure toxicity is, just yet.

“Everybody knows,” Jo says. “The Snake was floored that someone finally bagsied an Endless, but the Bookseller has been a smug bastard for weeks. Something about feeling the love. Eugh.”

“Who are they to talk?” Hob chuckles, deciding to make a cuppa for himself while he waits for Morph to sleep it off all the same. “ ‘Retiring to South Downs,’ “ he scoffs. “Like we all don’t know what that means.”

“Feels like everyone’s pairing up,” Jo says a little wistfully.

“What happened with Ric?” Hob asks, and takes the kettle to the sink to fill. An awkward silence descends as the water rushes.

“Going to confession gets stale,” Jo says at length.

Hob sets the kettle on its base and flicks it on. “All that kneeling to pray not doing it for you?”

“Says the head priest who married his god,” Jo snorts. “Did he lay you out on an altar as soon as you got to Greece?”

Hob lets a feral, lascivious smile slide across his face. “Hell yeah he did.”

“Eugh.”

“You asked!”

“I didn’t think you’d answer. Aren’t all you Immortals supposed to have terribly old fashioned values?”

“You gotta change with the times or you’ll never survive,” Hob says with a shrug. “Oh, there’s a thought. What about that big-eyed girl from Below? The lady Door?”

“Absolutely not,” Jo snorts. “And if you ever suggest it again, I’ll ask Islington to drown you, too.”

Hob thinks of the fowl pond at Gadlen House. “It won’t stick,” he says lightly, instead of scolding her for making light of his traumas.

“That’s half the fun.”

“Fair enough,” Hob says.

The kettle clicks off, and Jo waits for the sound of Hob pouring the water into his mug to stop before saying: “So, you didn’t call me just to rub your marital bliss in my face.”

“No,” Hob agrees somberly. He glances at the bedroom door, but Morph hasn’t silently appeared in it, so he goes on. “I’ve been asked to look into something here, and I was told you can guide me.”

“Who asked you?”

“I can’t tell you,” Hob says.

“So one of the in-laws, okay,” she says decisively. Hob makes a disbelieving sound. “Tsk, tsk, ‘Vassal of the Endless’,” she says and Hob can hear the finger-quotes around it. “I know everything, don’t forget. So where are you?”

“Oh, you know the title that no one else is supposed to be aware of, but you don’t know that?”

“Don’t be a prat.”

“Naxos.”

The shocked silence that drops this time has all the subtlety of an atomic bomb.

“Ooookay,” Hob says, straightening up and pressing the phone harder against his ear. “So that means something.”

“Hob,” Jo says slowly. “Did… did your new husband ever tell you what exactly he tasked Lady Johanna with?”

“No,” Hob admits.

It’s actually kind of a sore point with him. That she attacked them, and yet she still got to see his Stranger twice in the same century. It had hardly seemed fair. If his Stranger had a task to entrust to someone, why not Hob, whom he’d known for so long already? Hob, who he knew could fight, and sneak, and charm his way into or out of any place he needed to be. Why had he not trusted Hob with it?

Why, to this day, has Morph never told Hob what he asked Lady Johanna to do?

(Why, to this day, has Hob been too miffed about it to ask?)

Jo takes a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for the coming confession. “Okay, so… so I won’t go into detail, I’ll let him tell you all that but… Hob. Jesus, how do I say it?”

“Just rip the bandaid off. Please.”

Jo pauses again and then, all in a rush, blurts out: “Orpheus isn’t dead.”

NEXT PART

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