"A van Dyck," Dream drawled, dragging a light finger along the gilt frame of the painting propped on the top of one of Hob's shelves. Hob really should do something more formal with that. "Interesting thing to have in your living room, Hob."
"I tell people it's a print," Hob said, coming to stand beside him and handing him his tea.
"Oh, but it is not." There was a smirk dancing on Dream's lips, Hob knew without even looking at him directly.
"Makes sense that you'd be able to tell," he sighed.
"Of course. Just how did you come across such a thing?"
"Well, I was still mingling with the aristocracy in the early 17th century. Met some interesting people." He shrugged. "Really should have sold it when I was, well, destitute, but couldn't bear to. Managed to stash it away. One of the few things I have of that time, actually."
"I can only imagine you had more than one valuable thing in your possession over the centuries," Dream mused, sipping his tea. "Why this one?"
Oh, God. He knew, didn't he?
Hob rubbed at the back of his neck. "Reminded me of you."
Hob had never known much about art, particularly back then. He hardly would consider himself a collector and certainly not a connoisseur. But that particular portrait had caught his attention immediately for its similarity to Dream.
The likeness was, indeed, striking. His hair was longer than it had been when they'd met in 1589, sweeping over his shoulders, and his features were half-draped in shadow, but his eyes. Hob would know that haughty, intense gaze anywhere.
He'd never quite discounted the idea that it was a portrait of his stranger, except that he couldn't imagine him having the patience or cause to sit for it, or the desire to be immortalized in that way.
"It is me," said Dream.
"What? Seriously?" Hob turned to stare at him and found Dream already looking back, ethereal and lovely. There was only one lamp on in the living room, night falling around them, and it cast his face in a similar light to the portrait, soft gleaming skin and plunging darkness as backdrop, limitless shadow in his eyes. "You, allowing a portrait? You're not having me on?"
"I do not joke." Dream took a step closer to him, setting his tea aside on a table. "I suppose I must have been in good humor that day."
Hob raised both eyebrows. "Oh, uh-huh, you in good humor?"
Dream's lips ticked up in a half-smile. "It happens occasionally."
Hob leaned against the shelf, careful not to jostle the painting. "For someone who so disdains the waking world, you sure are very aware of the art scene."
Dream leaned beside him, tilting his head. "You might consider me a patron of the arts."
Hob chuckled. "A patron? Or an inspiration?" He reached out and dragged his thumb along Dream's lower lip. "Dream?"
"A lover of artists, perhaps."
"I'm sure." Hob swept a hand along his cheek, breaking up the light like he was dragging a wet brush through paint. "You look like you could have stepped right out of that painting right now. You could have stepped out of any painting."
Dream looked at him from under his lashes. "Are you calling me a work of art, Hob Gadling?"
"Always."
Then Hob kissed him, hands framing his beautiful face. Dream was like an artwork, constant in essence but changing interpretation in every new light. Hob could imagine how many people over the centuries had had a fleeting encounter with him and come away changed, just as he had.
Dream hovered near him when they parted. Hob looked over to the painting again. No mere depiction could capture Dream in all of his colors, but it really was a rather good try. Van Dyck had gotten the depth of his eyes just right.
"The Baroque period suits you," Hob told him.
"Now who knows something about art?"
"I've picked up a few things over the years. I'm in love with the world's greatest artist, after all."
Dream moved in as if to kiss him, but paused to speak against Hob's mouth. "There are other works of me out in the world, if you care to seek them out."
"Don't open that challenge because I will do it," Hob informed him, quite seriously.
"I hope so." There was a sharp gleam in Dream's eyes. Hob could only imagine what kinds of paintings might inspire that look. "I look forward to seeing what you find."
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Ya know, it's occurred to me from watching the way c!Dream talks about c!Tommy being trapped in there with him. He sounds not just glad to have company, but also like optimistic, if that makes sense. Like the "We have tons of time to bond," [46:17], "You're stuck in here with me, whether you like it or not. Okay? Whether you like it or not you're in here with me for a while. We're gonna talk. We're gonna have lots of fun. We’re gonna have lots of fun. Remember–remember when we had fun together, c!Tommy? Remember when we had fun together?–” [46:45], and the "I've changed. I’ve changed. I’ve changed–" [47:19]. He doesn’t say it in a malicious, threatening way, which certainly would be expected of him. I mean, the person who imprisoned you is now imprisoned with you, as the big bad guy that seems like some torture opportunity to me (it is the torture box after all lol ;D), but that’s not what he’s suggesting. No, he sounds adamant about change, about bonding, about talking things through. And given that the TNT Ranboo sets off to get c!Tommy trapped was a part of c!Dream’s plan, it’s very interesting that that would be his response. In fact, it’s almost as if he trapped c!Tommy in order to force them to reconcile, which very much aligns with a theory I’ve actually had for a while - what if the plan to put himself in the prison was about restoring his image.
He was renowned as the villain and everyone was after him and anyone associated with him. They all wanted his head, either because of fear or to be seen as some powerful hero who slayed the big monster. Even in the time of peace, they were plotting to kill him. All while he really just wanted peace and friendship, but he can’t exactly have that when everyone hates him and wants to kill him. Sure, he could seclude himself like Techno, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to be back in the fold.
And he doesn’t want to die, but clearly, they were never going to be satisfied until they destroy him. So, he lets them, and he forms a plan for him to be redeemed in the eyes of the server. He makes a prison so they can defeat him and he gets to live. And he makes the conditions horrible so they a) don’t suspect it was his plan and b) so they feel satisfied with his punishment. He makes it super secure so a) people can’t just get in to kill him, b) so they won’t suspect he’s there willingly (he’s very powerful after all), and everyone can feel safe from him. But he implements an extensive visitor system ("I just don’t want to ever be alone.") so now people can feel safe enough to visit him, and without weapons being involved, work through their issues. The idea being that everyone can come talk to him (which they were too scared or angry to do before) and see how he’s not so scary after all. So, that they then can ultimately release him and he can be a part of society again, now that he’s changed. The prison than was a way to de-villainize himself, so he was no longer the enemy.
Meaning, his favor with c!Techno was a backup plan, and that’s why he didn’t set up a system to get the message to c!Techno sooner, he planned on being let out. He just didn’t plan for things to go so wrong and for people to be so cold…
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