#hob: there is no chance of respectability
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sweetsbylia · 3 months ago
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Could you write a small thing about Haymitch with a partner that is either really really unserious (not dad jokes, like, 2000s brainrot) or incredibly and soberingly serious (rockets backstory from guardians of the galaxy type shit, staring off into space, gets everyone's shit together, whatever)
Tysm
I just think that Haymitch would be in a relationship with a really traditionally pretty, badass tragic woman or just. A thing. Like the movie pans to his partner the fever dream
Idk anywayssss have a good day !!! <3333
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haymitch abernathy x serious!reader
warnings: fem!district12!reader, fluff, sarcasm, reader being a little mean…haymitch loves it tho, a mention of alcoholism, swearing
a/n: hi nonnie!! thank you for your request i had so much fun writing this hope you like it<3 (divider by @dollywons)
word count: 368
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haymitch abernathy would absolutely love your attitude. like at the reaping effie would babble about manners or comment ignorantly on something and you’d just throw her a look of judgement and disinterest. it made his day fr.
before you two got together he’d always just by the corner of his eye watch how you walk around hob confidenty, how your eyes would glide over the crowd, the food, weapons, everything. haymitch kinda admired your bravery, if not bravery then your insolence.
you were pretty, no discussion. very pretty. but it was hardly noticeable on the first glance given your demeanour but maybe, he thought, just maybe that was your goal. hide who you are with a cold mask. he understood that. more than anyone could actually.
over time he build up some courage, approached you and maybe after the seventh time he tried, you gave him a chance to talk to you longer than few minutes.
it was hard but haymitch was so proud of himself after winning you over and making you his woman<3
whenever he’d call you some sweet nickname you’d give him a deadpan look but he knew you loved it deep down.
“baby, my sweet girl, would you be a darling and get me my jacket from upstairs.”
the disgusted face you gave him was the most adorable thing he ever saw in his life. you did got him his jacket though, which he counted as a marriage proposal basically.
haymitch being a delusional queen<3 (he did got you to marry him so a win is a win)
“you need to fucking stop drowning yourself in alcohol and do something with yourself.” you’d say every time he’d come home from his ‘walk’ black out drunk.
to some it may appear like you were being unemphatic but he knew it was just pure concern and worry.
during the rebellion, in district thirteen, everyone is afraid of you. everyone. katniss respects you, which is admirable.
“haymitch, tell your wife to cooperate-“
“hell nah, i’m scared of her.”
“but-” coin pestered more.
“if you want something from her, go ask yourself.”
“we’re scared too, dude!” boggs exclaimed.
the only time they ever really saw you genuinely smile was when katniss shoot coin <3 (or at peeta’s adorable unfunny jokes, sweet baby angel<3)
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windsweptinred · 18 days ago
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I read an interesting post on Sandman ship potential, that quite fairly pointed out that in canon, Dream literally never tells Hob anything about himself. And that in some respects, it's a very unequal relationship in that sense. 
But it got me thinking about a different way to take Dreamling, to the way we often take the ship in fanon. If the true joy Dream finds in Hob's companionship is the complete detachment he offers from his duty. That the escapism of self for Dream, meeting Hob as a total stranger, is part of the appeal. Could we reframe this in an almost Mélusine way of, don't ask, just love?
A relationship based on, I don't want you to KNOW me, but I do want you to know ME. In which Dream purposely requests that Hob never ask who or what he truly is. He never wants Hob to know of his checkered history, his cosmic burden. Just love his ‘stranger’ unconditionally without that knowledge. Which to be fair, Hob's already been doing for the past how many centuries? 
Of course they'll be an inevitable fallout, in the way these myths always go. And a chance at reconciliation. (I have the idea of Hob breaking his vow, playing a part in Dream's self determined demise. Only for Hob to learn the truth and step in just in time to stop it, rotating round my mind at present.😅) 
But I thought it was a different kind of AU if nothing else.
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maysrinn · 2 months ago
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Hi I have another question but who is president in the other universe where Coriolanus stayed with Lucy gray in district 12, and if snows a peacekeeper in this au dose that mean Lenore dove gets into more trouble cause her uncle busts her out.
Hi welcome back!
1. I never really thought about who would have become president if Coriolanus had stayed in District 12 with Lucy Gray. One thing’s for sure: I wouldn’t pick any of the characters we already know, or even one of his classmates. Snow was uniquely sharp, but not uniquely evil, in my opinion. Anyone could have been just as cruel and power-hungry if given the chance. Maybe Dr. Gaul would have found another protégé after Coriolanus failed his little district test and never returned to the Capitol. The new president would likely be someone we don’t know, just as ruthless toward the districts, but without Snow’s sharp mind.
__________
2. By the time Lenore Dove is born and raised by the remnants of the Covey, Coriolanus isn’t just a Peacekeeper anymore, he’s the commander of District 12. And Lenore Dove? She’s a constant headache. She always manages to get herself into trouble, because really, what’s he going to do? Scold her? Put her in time-out? He tries, lecturing her endlessly and keeping her stuck in his office for hours, forcing her to listen to another one of his “valuable life lessons” about freedom, discipline, and responsibility.
But deep down, he’s exhausted. Lenore Dove reminds him so much of Clementine Auburn, wild and stubborn, and he had been genuinely relieved when his own daughter eventually grew out of that rebellious phase. Now it’s happening all over again, and Coriolanus knows he’s far too old and tired for this kind of nonsense. Half the Peacekeeper unit probably knows Lenore Dove by name and exactly where to find her when she’s once again caused some kind of chaos. Some of them have even made a game of it, betting on how long she can stay out of trouble before someone has to drag her back to the commander’s office.
Coriolanus: Tell me, Lenore Dove, what great threat to district society did you commit this time?
Lenore Dove: I sang a song. Technically, that’s called culture. Covey culture.
Coriolanus: You sang The Hanging Tree in front of the mayor. During the remembrance ceremony. In front of children. I thought we talked about this-
Lenore Dove: Children singing! Oh no! Next thing you know, they’ll be thinking too.
Coriolanus: Freedom without order leads to chaos. Chaos leads to rebellion…
Lenore Dove: here we go again…
Coriolanus: …Rebellion leads to ruin. I was there, You know this. We have spent decades building a fragile peace on the ashes of war… and you choose to sing it anyaway?
Lenore Dove: hmm It’s a good song. Catchy. Real earworm.
Coriolanus: The foundations of civilization are built on respect. Discipline. Stability. Not nostalgia for anarchy and bloodshed!
Lenore Dove: … we had a hanging last week… Sooo… no requests for The Hanging Tree at the Hob? Got it.
Coriolanus: This is not a joke!
Lenore Dove: you’re right, it’s a balled.
Coriolanus: I’ll inform your aunt-
Lenore Dove: so she can rip u a new one? Like last time?
Coriolanus: oh yes, perhaps I’m really into that-
Lenore Dove: whoah! to many information, I’m not trying to mentally picture something…
Coriolanus: *sigh* …One day. Just one day without paperwork because of you. That’s all I ask-
Lenore Dove: …admit it I keep u young, and in that case I’m here all week!’Commander’
Later that night he’s ranting and venting to Lucy Gray about everything while Lenore dove is sleeping safe and sound in her bed 🪿
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littlemissstel · 8 months ago
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Crows Feet- Shiu Kong
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Indulgent, grandma!reader, grandpa!shiu, reader is referred to as nana (another term for grandma), FLUFF, not proofread
divider by @bernardsbendystraws
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The dark winter night didn't seem to quite reach into you apartment, blocked by the warm atmosphere that engulfed you all. It was the winter holidays, meaning your kids and grandchildren came to spend the week leading up to Christmas with you in the heart of Seoul; surrounded by family, decorations and food that no Michelin star restaurant could rival. All made with a grandmothers love.
How Shiu loved times like this. To see the family he built with you, his own little world, so perfect and far away from the tainted bloodshed he knew. The years had weathered and worn away at you leaving you both with heads of silver, blemishes, loose skin and wrinkles like the rings of a tree that were a testament to your time spent together. Shiu loved it all. He had felt love in many forms in his life, companionably, romantic and fatherly- all of which he never imagined having the chance to experience. No one knew gratefulness like him.
He remembered your wedding, the song that played, the dance, your dress and the way you said "I do". He remembered the overwhelming feeling, the one he still couldn't name to this day when you told him you were pregnant. He remembers the look of love you gave him, the look of love you give him now.
"Shiu! Can you help carry the pot onto the table? I don't want to drop it"
Your voice comes from the kitchen into the living room where he is sat with one of his grandsons, the two sharing an amused look before standing up silently to make their way to you.
You had been cooking for hours before, the scent of various traditional dishes snuck through the walls throughout the home taunting everyone and their stomachs, but they knew better than to rush you, trusting in your ability to make the unmistakable taste of home.
The two enter the kitchen, a cluttered mess of ingredients and used kitchenware scattered on the dark wood counter tops. Your daughters (daughter and daughter in law) stood over their respective stations where they finished up on the plating and garnishes. Shiu knew how much you treasured this time, it wasn't that he couldn't cook, but from growing up and remembering your time with your grandmother you had a goal to bring the same warmth to your family- using this as a way to connect with your loved ones who you hadn't seen for months too long to bare.
"Whoaa Nana! It looks delicious!" The young one bursts out in awe. He could see how your heart filled, hear it too as you coo'd back a sweet "thank you, baby" giving his forehead a quick kiss. The boy grabbed a plate from his mother, secretly taking a bite to which Shiu gave a knowing wink, and left to put it on the dinning table.
"Which one needs taking first, love?" He asks placing a gentle hand on the small of your back, massaging the muscles he knew ached after all the time you spent standing. You lean into his hold, turning your head to smile at him with thanks.
"The one on the front-left hob. It's still going to be hot so can you make sure one of the kids is there to make sure the little ones don't touch it?"
"Of course."
Moving his hand to the fat of your hip he squeezes, brushing past you to carry out your request. Even after so long, you rarely refer to your kids as part of "the adults", you treated them as such of course, but in your heart they would always be your babies and while they were here, in your home, the responsibilities of the adult world were lifted from their shoulders. The pot was heavy, the weight of your love no doubt, and he carried it carefully with a sturdy hold to the dinning room where he was met with the six cherub faces of his grandchildren. The eldest two clearing a space on the table and coming to help take it from his hands.
"Don't worry kid, I've got this one" Shiu says, lifting the pot out of the younger ones reach
"But what if you throw your back out? wouldn't want to spend Christmas in the hospital"
Yes. If there was one thing that you managed to pass down it would be your swift tongue. You would deny this of course, blaming him for the attitudes of your children and their kids.
"I think your forgetting who your old man is, kid. I used to be able to carry 300 pound men back in my day." he exclaims, putting the pot down in the centre.
A slight over exaggeration, yeah, and they were normally in body bags but who needed to know the details?
Bursts of laughter fill the room.
"Is dad telling his funny stories again?" His daughter arrives from the kitchen with a tray filled of assortments of fermented vegetables.
"Yeah! He said he could carry men that weigh 300 pounds!"
"Did he now?" she says with a side glance having heard this story before.
"Ask your mum. she'll tell you it's true."
"Ask me what?"
"Did dad used to carry 300 pound men when he was younger?"
You pause with a growing smirk etched into your face, debating on whether to defend your husband or call him senile, though, in the good grace of Christmas spirit, you decided to leave it for another day.
"He did. He had big muscles too, it's how I knew I wanted to marry him" You tease giving him a firm nudge as he rolls his eyes. An ever prominent smile still present.
Aside from the family, love and home you had given each other, the thing Shiu adored the most were the crows feet you both wore. It had been gifted many times over the decades you spent making each other laugh and nothing made him happier than being able to effortlessly show the world just how happy you made each other.
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Now this is more like it.
Please feel free to leave any requests/ ideas
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orionsangel86 · 1 year ago
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Every time I write a new meta exploring the Netflix adaptation of the Sandman comics and what they changed, I draw the same conclusion. Even if I don't start the meta even considering that conclusion I can't get away from it. I've been wrapped up in the comic canon for a while now and the comics only have one ending and no other ending is really possible unless you really hyperfocus on Hob's dream. I totally support comic analysis that concludes that the ending is paramount and fixed and cannot be changed. Comic focused meta writers are adament the story must play out as per the comics and I respect that reading.
But then I delve into show meta again and I once again reach the same conclusion: they are changing it. They must be changing it. The show canon doesnt allign with the comics. Its too hopeful, too kind, too supportive.
Maybe too much hope is as much of a bad thing as not enough? There was never any hope in the comic universe. Overture makes that very clear. But the Netflix universe? Oodles of hope. Hope in all corners. Filled to the brim with hope.
I'm completely at a loss and in two minds about it. I'm fascinated and terrified about it. Perhaps we wont even get that far though. Maybe Netflix will cancel the show before we get a chance to see its natural ending. Season 2 could also totally do a 180 on the groundwork season 1 laid down so there is that. I don't know... I'm so confused by it all.
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valiantstarlights · 2 years ago
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[Fae!Dream and Vampire!Hob AU]
For @gabessquishytum and wing anon 🖤 I've had this in my notes for a couple of weeks, but now seems to be a good time to share it. 😊
Fun fact, this was inspired by these lines from Baby, It's Cold Outside: "I wish I knew how / (Your eyes are like starlight now) / To break this spell"
Don't ask. The weather was 30°C+ outside when I typed this up. 😂
CW: the tiniest amount of spice, and Dream and Hob being insane about each other as usual.
Fae!Dream runs away from home in the middle of winter and ends up on the wrong side of the forest. He has never been here before. The trails are winding and changes directions when he isn't looking, and the trees are indifferent to his plight, refusing to point him towards the fae side of the forest. 'We are too sleepy,' they say. 'Fuck off.'
Soon, though, he comes upon a castle, and he can see that there's light inside. Snow is already falling pretty hard by then, and Dream is so desperate for warmth and shelter that he knocks on the imposing front doors.
It takes a while for someone to answer, but Dream waits. It's a huge castle. He's about to knock again when the door opens and a handsome vampire peeks his head out. When he sees Dream, shivering and hunched over, lips almost blue, he hurriedly opens the door wide and ushers him in.
Dream enters the castle. Despite everything he has learned in his long, long life.
He knows he has to tread carefully. It's common knowledge that fae and vampires don't get along. But he also knows how important inviting someone inside is to vampires, and he doesn't exactly have a choice. He has two options, and they are: 100 percent chance of freezing to death on one hand, and 50 percent chance of being murdered by a vampire on the other.
Although...now that he's looking, he thinks the vampire looks nice, actually. He's currently talking about getting Dream warmed up in front of a fire and getting him some soup, then apologizing right after because there won't be garlic in the soup.
Dream thinks his voice sounds lovely.
The vampire keeps his promises. Soon, Dream is warm in front of a fireplace, eating creamy vegetable soup. The vampire talks about how he made the soup, and Dream can tell that he's just as nervous as having a fae in his home. But Dream senses no falsehood in his words or in his manners.
Dream is so fucking charmed by him that he (unthinkingly) asks him his name. And then realizes his mistake one second later when the vampire's open features shutter close and his muscles tense.
"My name is Dream," Dream offers. He knows he should not give his name. Not his true one, anyway. And yet he does.
If the vampire's goal is to hurt him, he does not need Dream's true name for that. Dream is still weak from running and escaping his bodyguards. If the vampire wants to hurt him, he'll be too weak to fight back.
"Sure," the vampire says, and...yeah, he's right to be suspicious. 'Dream' isn't exactly one of the top 100 baby names for male fae babies. Lord and Lady Endless knew what they were doing when they named their children. "You can call me Hob."
Hob.
His name doesn't taste like a lie, but Dream knows it's not his real name. It's fine. He likes 'Hob.'
"Thank you for offering me shelter," Dream says. He knows he shouldn't show gratitude or else it will bite him in the ass in the future. He does so anyway. "I was running away from home."
He knows he is under no obligation to speak the truth in its purest form. He has learned how to mislead and twist his words in a way that is still true, but volunteers less information. He does so anyway.
Hob is looking at him intensely, like he is also trying to figure Dream out. "May I ask why?"
And so the whole story falls out of Dream's mouth. It's the first time he has ever talked to anyone about how he is being treated at home, but Hob is respectful and lets him talk. Hob is nice and pours him a glass of water when his voice become hoarse.
Hob is lovely because when Dream starts to break down in the end, telling him all about the entire business with the Burgesses, he takes out a handkerchief and wipes Dream's tears away himself.
"I'm so sorry about everything that has ever happened to you," Hob says in the end, when Dream realizes that he is on Hob's lap, being held. It feels nice. He wants to snuggle up further, but his manners prevent him from doing so. "But I'm glad you've left them for good."
That makes Dream pause, and he shakes his head. "I have not. Technically, I am still under their protection." He looks outside to see heavy snowflakes still drifting down, and an occasional wind gusting through. "I still have to go home."
Hob looks out the window and then back to him incredulously. "In this weather?"
"I have to," Dream insists. "If not..."
"If not?"
Dream looks down at his lap. At Hob's handkerchief that was somehow now in his hands. It's a pretty cream color with the initials R.G. embroidered on the corner. Dream does not think what the initials mean because he doesn't want to pry. Hob's true name is his business alone. But he likes the handkerchief. Perhaps he can keep it as a souvenir of his time at the castle of the handsome vampire. It would be his most prized possession. He will not draw attention to it so Hob will forget to ask him to return it. "If not," Dream says, "I will die before the season turns."
Hob inhales sharply, and then he's clasping Dream's arms. "Is that a fae thing?"
Dream nods miserably. It's how they lost Destruction. And how Dream will be lost, if he doesn't get back. He hopes Death will take care of Jessamy for him.
"Is there no loophole for that?" Hob asks, looking frantic. "There must be something. Like...I don't know, like a transfer of protection?"
Hob must be a very young vampire for him not to know the rules. But Dream knows the rules by heart, and all the loopholes as well, from hundreds of years trying to bend them. And the only way...
"Oh."
"Oh?" Hob echoes. "Is there a way to save you after all?"
There is, but--
He could not possibly--
"I have to leave," Dream announces, and regretfully gets off of Hob's lap and starts walking away.
"What? Why?" Hob asks, standing up himself and following him. "Do you have to go on a quest for some item or something? Stay the night. There's literally a blizzard--"
"I cannot!" Dream shouts.
Hob, shocked by Dream's outburst, holds his hands up peaceably. "Alright," he says gently. "May I ask why?"
Dream bites his lip and says nothing.
"Tell me," Hob begs. "Please. I want to help."
Dream shakes his head. Nobody wants to help. Randall had tried to trap him against his will. Alexander was too afraid of his father and brother to help Dream escape and had only pointed him deeper into their house. Dream almost didn't make it.
Hob exhales. Not out of impatience, but out of a decision reached. "Look," he says, hands still open in a gesture of peace. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I really do want to help you. I know a thing or two about being trapped in a situation I do not want to be in, and I wouldn't want anyone else to experience that. So...I would like you to know my name."
Dream gapes at him. A vampire willingly giving his own true name to a fae? It's practically unheard of. It's a trick. It's--
Hob takes a deep breath and says, "My name is Robert Gadling."
'R.G.' The handkerchief is his. Dream's fingers tingle at this new information.
There is a change that happens, when someone tells a fae their true name voluntarily, knowing exactly what they're getting into. It's a different kind of change than when their name is tricked out from them.
If their name is tricked out of them, a thin string, only visible to the fae, connects the being to the fae they gave their name to, as a sign of possession.
But when someone tells a fae their true name the way Hob--Robert Gadling, just did, they will look more real to the fae. More tangible.
And a more tangible Robert Gadling, a kind and handsome vampire who would open his doors to a fae, feed them, keep them warm, and want to help them save their life? All the while smelling of nothing but sincerity?
"Tell me," Hob, Robert, says again. "I want to help you."
Dream suddenly hungers for him. And his sudden yearning to make Hob his is not conducive to the conversation. "You--"
"Please," he says. "Unless there's something preventing you to? More of your fae rules?" He looks contemplatively at the space between them. "Do I have to kneel?"
No. Yes. Lie and make him kneel.
"If I stay," Dream says faintly, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his conscious consent, "my parents' protection will slowly pass to my current host."
Hob looks alarmed at that, probably wondering how many hours it has been since Dream has arrived. "How slowly?"
"A week at most."
The answer, of course, is much more complicated than that. In the case of the Burgesses, Dream still has his parents' protection at the end of Day 5, when he finally escaped. In Unity Kincaid's case, she was so in love with Desire that it only took a day for her parents' protection to fade.
But with the way things are going between him and Hob, and with how fast Dream is prone to falling in love, his parents' protection will most likely fade after three days. At most.
"So stay," Hob says, as if it were that simple. He is still so young. He doesn't know what he is offering. "If you haven't noticed yet, the castle is entirely empty, aside from the castle's spirit itself. It takes care of itself and was kind enough to open its doors for me when I rose from the dead. And if it can offer me, a no-good vampire who used to be a highwayman, a home, then who am I to not offer you my protection as well?"
'Highwayman' is a term that cannot be more than 300 years old. Dream is robbing the cradle.
"I am saying," Dream says slowly, "that if you are to offer me your protection, once my parents' protection has faded, you would be considered my husband. The fae will consider us married."
Hob blinks. "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh,'" Dream cannot help but say mockingly. "That is why I must leave."
But Hob just gestures to the windows helplessly, begging him to see sense at the sight of the howling winds that are thankfully muffled by the thick castle walls. "In this weather?"
"I must."
"A night."
"What?"
"Stay for the night," Hob begs. "The weather might be better tomorrow. And if so, I will give you my thickest coat and help you get back to fae land myself. If...if you are afraid of me, I will stay here in the study, and you may choose any room you'd like to stay in for the night."
Dream stares at him, and ignores the way his body is pleasantly tingling all over, but especially between his legs.
Faes are not good. They are greedy creatures who will take the entire dish when presented with a bite.
And in the face of Robert Gadling's kindness and consideration...
Dream walks up to Hob and grabs him by the collar of his dressing gown. If Hob is willing to give him a coat, then Dream will steal all his clothes for himself as well. If Hob is willing to offer him his protection, then Dream will cast his own on him and name him husband without bothering to wait for his parents' protection to fade. If Hob has shown him kindness for an hour, Dream will want him for the rest of their life.
"Kiss me," he says. Demands. Begs. He doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that if Hob does not kiss him, he will cry.
Hob looks baffled. "What...will that accomplish, exactly? If I may ask?"
Dream groans in frustration and stamps his feet. "I will be kissed," he says. "I will know what you taste like, and you will know mine. Our lips will be thoroughly acquainted and we will feel our tongues push wetly against each other. Is that not enough of an accomplishment for you?"
"Sounds like you want more than just a kiss, your highness," Hob says, but his gaze and his voice are lower now, which is exactly what Dream wants.
"I am not a prince," Dream tells him honestly. Always with honesty. "But I do want more than just a kiss from you. With the generosity you have shown me, with you telling me your name, if you do not kiss me, I will simply waste away and perish."
"Well, we can't have that," Hob says. "Not after I just saved you from freezing to death."
"No, we cannot," Dream agrees. "So kiss me, Robert Gadling." His true name on Dream's tongue tastes like sunlight. "Kiss me and protect me and make me yours right now."
Hob's eyes are dancing as he brushes a lock of hair away from Dream's face and tucks it behind his ear. "You're a greedy little fae, aren't you?"
"And you are still not kissing me, you stubborn vampire."
"I can't believe this is how my evening turned out," Hob chuckles, and touches their foreheads together. "I must have gone insane the moment I saw you. I would normally offer to court someone first before the topic of marriage can even be considered."
Dream pecks Hob's dimpled chin, impatient. He has a slight stubble that would feel wonderful against Dream's thighs. "I am not human. Or another vampire. I am a fae. And if you do not kiss me right now, I will go out in that snowstorm and--"
"Alright, you sweet impatient thing," Hob says, "No need for such threats." And finally dips his head down to touch their lips chastely.
Dream would have none of that, however, and surges upwards, intent on devouring him. Their sharp canines clack against each other, but it does not deter them.
"Are we insane?" Hob asks when Dream has to take a breath. It's so unfair that Dream has to breathe when Hob does not. "To do this right after we just met? Tell me truly."
"Yes," Dream answers honestly. "I do not know of anyone who consummated their coming together as one on the very day they met."
"Consummating, hm?" Hob's thumb presses against his hipbone when he pulls Dream closer to him. "We can do that."
"Yes," Dream agrees. "Right now. Please. Everything."
And Hob does just that.
--
His parents' protection fades even before Hob could fuck him, but he's too preoccupied by the feeling of Hob's stubble on his thighs to notice.
--
In the morning, Hob presents him with the most beautiful obsidian ring he has ever seen, and Dream immediately says yes before Hob could even ask the question.
--
"For the record," Hob says one night after they finished fucking in the library, "I was fully intending on lending you all my thick coats that first night. You looked so cold I was hesitant to even take off your clothes."
Dream snuggles up to him and drapes one leg over Hob's deliciously hairy thighs. "That would not have worked," he says, certain. "I would have simply taken off all my clothes and accepted nothing from you except your most translucent nightgowns to cover my nakedness."
"You will seduce a vampire? Didn't you tell me that our kind do not get along?"
Dream bites him gently on the shoulder with his smaller fangs.
"I would not seduce a vampire," he says haughtily. "I have met some before, and found none of them pleasing. It is you I would seduce. The man I have decided would be mine forever as my husband."
Hob kisses his forehead, and Dream could feel the foolish smile on his lips. "Who is a vampire."
"Shush, Robert Gadling," he says, unable to stop himself from smiling as well.
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delta-pavonis · 1 year ago
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Dreamling Week 2024 Day 1
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banner art by Leikan Jeyifo
Challenge to myself for this week: use all prompts for all days, write a short bit each day.
Bonus thing that happened while writing: this turned into a non-linear solarpunk urban fantasy AU. *shrugs helplessly*
Dreamling Week 2024 Day 1 Prompts (from @mr-sadman): Hunt, Body Swap, Indulgence, First Time
Dreamling || Rated T || 813 words
tags (other than the prompts above): fantasy, urban fantasy, hunting capturing and pinning someone to the ground is pretty much foreplay right?, scenting, banter, discussion of fucking during body swap
“Got you,” Hob thrills at hearing the voice he now commands come out as that rumbling purr he loves so much. “Do you yield?”
He looks down to see his own face twisted with a familiar sneer that he has never seen on his own features. “Absolutely not.” 
It is decidedly strange to hear his own voice this way–not quite similar enough to trigger the embarrassment one feels when listening to a recording, but still disconcerting. 
Then again, all of this is disconcerting and decidedly strange. He is currently inhabiting the body of his work partner, a drow who Hob had fallen ass over tea kettle for decades ago. He is using said drow’s body to pin his own to the dirt in a forest clearing outside the overgrown castle ruins they just investigated. They are now speaking again after a long stretch of silence, a silence that was only interrupted because their respective bosses told them they had to work together on this case. Which was very much not how Hob had imagined their reconnection going, but beggars can't be choosers. Or so humans say.
Hob is learning quickly that drow not only look different than other elf-kin, but that they see, hear, and smell differently, too. It makes sense, given that their senses are attuned to a vastly different environment, but as a half wood-elf he had just never thought of it before.
As Hob lowers his face, Dream's long white hair cascades over his shoulder. “I was hoping you'd say that.”
He flexes his hands around the wrists he has pinned and spreads them wider, giving him a stance with the leverage to hop up and have his feet come down between Dream-in-his-body’s calves with enough force to pry his legs apart. The elf beneath him grunts as his thighs splay and their pelvises crash together. Even through the armor-spelled denim they wear Hob can feel how aroused his friend is, no matter how he denies or ignores it.
“I feel it is rather narcissistic of you to enjoy the possibility of a sexual encounter with your own body.” He relishes the breathlessness he can hear in his own voice, how the body beneath him trembles. Hob knows exactly what has to happen to drive his own body to that point and if he is causing that in Dream… well. He was rather hoping they could have one of their catfight fuck sessions before the curse wears off.
“Come on,” Hob says, enjoying the rough, raw sexuality he can convey with just a slight change in tone with Dream’s vocal cords. “It gives a whole new meaning to go fuck yourself.”
It is fascinating to see what is so clearly Dream's eyeroll cross his own face. Drow vision is far more sensitive to movement than his own and it allows Hob to see even the slightest twitch of brow or flutter of lashes or movement of lips. It is kind of distracting, all this detail.
But that is nothing compared to the distraction of this sense of smell. Hob is no doubt never ever going to get this chance again, so he might as well indulge a little while he can. He drops his face into his own neck and inhales deeply. “Tannatell’s tits do I always smell this good to you?” Hob repeats the act, this time dragging his nose up into chestnut hair as he breathes in. “How can you work like this? I’d be on the edge of coming all the goddamned time. No wonder progress on this case has been so slow, you’re the smart one and you only have half your blood going to your brain. Fuck, it is like I am… your...” he trails off as that thought completes itself in his head. 
Oh.
Now, drow vision might have traded brightness of color for its enhanced sensitivity to motion, but there is no doubt, when Hob lifts back up and looks down, that there is a fiercely red blush on Dream's cheeks. And Dream refuses to meet his gaze.
Hob lets go of the wrists he holds and sits back on his heels so he is kneeling between Dream's thighs. He watches as the other elf brings his hands to his chest, rubbing gently at them where Hob's grip was tightest. Dream keeps his head turned to the side the whole time. 
“Dream, why didn't you t-”
“Don't. Just don't.” His eyes close and his face crumples into something pained. It guts Hob to think that this is something painful for Dream. “The first time we talk about this can't be like… I do not want it to…” Hob has never heard Dream fumble for words and it is distressingly alarming. “I would prefer to be in my own body when we have this conversation, please.”
Hob can't do anything but grant that request.
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gabessquishytum · 2 years ago
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I blame this one on watching too many racing movies recently, but Racecar driver Hob and nepo-baby Team sponsor Dream.
Dream somehow (he suspects Desire) becomes the representative of the Endless Corporation for the racing team they sponsor. It is Dream’s idea of hell, large crowds, loud noises, fleeting seconds of action to watch directly, and then being expected to chat with others while watching the tv screens. He doesn’t know what is happening and doesn’t really care, and it shows. Sure, being in the luxury of the owners/sponsors box helps, but still he’d rather be anywhere else.
Dream eventually heads to the team’s garage with the excuse that he wants to listen to the race engineers and driver directly. Everybody in the garage is too busy doing their job to try and chat with him or pay him more attention than is needed to get him a headset and settled out of the way, so it’s perfect for Dream.
Robert “The Immortal” Gadling is the newest addition to the Endless racing team, so named because he has survived more on-track crashes and accidents than any other active driver, most of them weren’t even his fault. He always says the reaper is going to come for him in a car, so he might as well make it an interesting death. The press thinks he is just a thrill seeker chasing fame. In truth, he lost Robyn, Elanor, and the baby from being hit by a drunk driver while he was driving, and it haunts him. He wants to prove that he is the best driver, because if he is the best and he still lost his family in an accident, then no one else would have reacted faster or handled the car better.
Hob isn’t the best yet. He is always in the upper pack but hasn’t consistently broken onto the podium. He’s hoping this new team will be a chance to really show what he can do. Hob always has a running commentary going on the team comms no matter how long or intense the race is. People constantly have to break into his chatter to give him the information he needs about the car, his competition, or track conditions.
Dream is intrigued by this man who constantly jokes around while driving a heavy death machine around at break-neck speeds. They end up talking a few races later when after the race Dream stays long enough for Hob to notice a new face in the garage. Dream finds he enjoys having all that intense focus on him alone. Chats after the race become drinks out, then become dinner together. Soon, they are exploring the cities the races are in together when there is downtime. Eventually, they end up testing the structural integrity of Dream’s hotel’s beds as Hob sets out to prove that he is an athlete in peak shape thank you very much.
Poor Dream who has never had a healthy relationship in his life is insistent that what they have is a friends-with-benefits or fuckbuddy situation even though neither is looking elsewhere, they are always talking to each other and they’ve both shown each other the skeletons in their respective closets. Hob would like to call their relationship more but also knows his constant dance with death or at least serious injury is as good a reason as any for Dream to avoid any kind of commitment to him not counting both their emotional baggage.
Things come to a head when Hob is caught in a multi-car crash and is sent rolling into the center of the track where the car quickly catches fire. Dream pushes himself into the pack of people from the team following the first responders to the crash, hoping that the safety gear the team poured some of the sponsorship money into actually did something. He isn’t allowed on the medical helicopter when Hob is airlifted out, but he does set some speed records of his own getting to the hospital.
The safety equipment does its job and Hob will only have to miss a few races for recovery, but Dream is not letting Hob go one more day without formalizing their relationship because no one else gets Hob, not even Death. Hob’s memory of that first “I love you” is hazed by painkillers, but they exchange the words so many times during his hospital stay that he isn’t too worried about it.
When he is cleared to begin racing again Hob starts consistently placing on the podium and each time he makes sure his boyfriend gets caught in the champagne spray no matter how much Dream grumbles about the cost of cleaning his designer clothes. Years later, when Hob retires from being a driver so he can spend more time with his husband, he is considered the chattiest driver of all time, Dream listened to every single one of his races after all. He also incidentally will be remembered as one of the best drivers of his generation.
-💥
I know close to nothing about racing but omg I am so here for this!!! Driver Hob!!! Chatty, risky, charismatic driver Hob with a tragic backstory!! I love it, once again I can only thank you for honouring me with this mini fic <333
I love to imagine Hob doing press conferences and managing to turn every answer for every question into a rant about how amazing Dream is, he loves Dream so much, he never thought he'd be able to get to the top of his sport but Dream has given him the motivation. And Dream himself is standing at the back of the room desperately wishing that the floor would swallow him up <333
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scotianostra · 3 months ago
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On March 25th 1306 Robert the Bruce, Earl of Annandale, was crowned King of Scots at Scone.
Although we recognise this as a defining moment for the Bruce, the reality of the time was he had very little support. Crucially though the church backed him, Bishop Wishart of Glasgow, pardoned him for his supposed crime, that being the murder of the Red Comyn at Dumfries. Wishart convinced Bruce that the time was right to declare himself king and helped organise his coronation.
The ceremony took place without the Stone of Scone and the Scottish Crown Jewels. These had been taken to England by Edward I in 1296.
The crowning of the Scottish monarch was traditionally performed by the head of the Clan McDuff at Scone. However, John Comyn, Earl of Buchan, who should have had this privilege, had sided with the English. Instead, his wife Isobella, the Countess of Buchan (and more importantly, a McDuff) came to Scone to perform the ceremony. She arrived a day after Bruce had been crowned but gave it the McDuff endorsement, without which, some felt the ceremony would be invalid.
Bruce suffered a number of setbacks in his first few months as king, he was defeated by an English force at Methven, and suffered heavy losses. He retreated from this defeat towards his homelands in the south west.
Before he could reach his lands, Bruce’s remaining supporters were virtually wiped out by the Scottish noble, John MacDougall.
MacDougall was a supporter of The Red Comyn and was looking to exact revenge for the murder at Greyfriars.
Bruce's brother, Neil was hung, drawn and beheaded. His wife, sisters and daughter were captured by English forces and placed under house arrest. They were kept as hostages. They were put in cages that hung from the walls of Berwick and Roxburgh Castles, respectively, as a warning to other rebels.
Bruce fled the Scottish mainland. At this point in his reign, Bruce had gained the nickname King Hob – he was 'King Nobody’. It is not known exactly where he went, although he probably spent the winter on an island off the west coast of Scotland. Some historians suggest he stayed on Rathlin Island between Kintyre and County Antrim in Northern Ireland.
It is during this time the legend of the spider came about.
Legend tells us that, while waiting out the winter of 1306, he watched a spider on the cave building a web in the cave's entrance. The spider fell down time after time, but finally he succeeded with his web. So Bruce decided also to retry his fight and told his men: "If at first you don't succeed, try try and try again".
Bruce returned to the mainland in early 1307 and was more successful.
From February to April 1307, Bruce gathered support in his family lands at Carrick and managed to defeat a small English garrison at Glen Trool. In May 1307, Bruce was then able to defeat a much larger English force, led by Amyer de Valance, at Loudoun Hill. Bruce arrived in the area first and was able to prepare an ambush. He set traps and took up position on the higher ground. He no doubt to inspiration from Sir William Wallace, and knew he stood little chance of defeating the English in an open battle.
I shall post more about the events that happened after the Coronation as the year goes on.
Pics are Lady Buchan crowning Robert the Bruce at Scone in 1306; from a modern tableau at Edinburgh Castle, and a scene from the 2019 film, Outlaw King, depicting the event.
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doomed-sarcastic-king · 2 months ago
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Safe In Your Love ( there isn't a tempest i can't take) Chapter 4
"It's so good to see you again, Desire, though it's a shame that Heart didn't come with you. I take it that he hasn't had a good sleep in a while, right?" Hob asked, pouring another cup of tea for his sibling-in-law, who didn't enjoy the bitterness of coffee (and would complain any chance they got at how much either of them drank the beverage), trying as best to hide both his disappointment and the hunch that he had as to why exactly Hobo Heart had been avoiding the diva like the plague.
While the refill brought a smile out of the blond, it quickly faded at the remark, making them nod in an apologetic manner as they took a sip of their tea, trying their best to not show how annoyed they were by Hob's words.
"Yes, my dear Heart is more fond of the night than I am, he claims that it's the best time to get work done and with his busy schedule, it doesn't give us much time to thoroughly enjoy eachother's presence. That and the headaches that he would sometimes get make him grumpier than usual but hey," Desire hummed, taking a sip out of the cup, savoring the warmth for a moment before continuing "I would much prefer having him well rested at home than causing a scene for all to see".
They chuckled, shaking their head in amusement at the image that conjured up in their mind, but the hilarity wasn't shared by their brother, who frowned at them from his spot over the sink, hands gripping the dishtowel that he was using.
'Do us all a favor and admit that your relationship is falling apart, sibling, instead of dragging the shell of what your boyfriend was for your own sick, twisted entertainment, bringing his already broken spirit further down with your harsh commentary on all that he does and do the right thing by freeing him from your loveless embrace!'.
Those were the words that the writer desperately wanted to utter out, followed by a good shaking for added measure, anything that would make the mask slip away from their face but a subtle shake of the head from his husband made Dream bite his tongue, letting out a quiet groan as he resumed his task, making sure that all the plates were dry and when he was done, he calmly sat down with them at the table, pretending to be interested about the bombshell's week while in reality, his focus was on someone else entirely.
Things between between the two lovers had been tense as of late, brought upon by Desire desperately trying to make Hobo Heart forget about their mistake, which in turn only made the young-man more eager to avoid them, causing frictions when they were attending small gatherings and while it was clear to both the professor and his husband that the boy was really unhappy, not once had he voiced his feelings on the matter : in fact, all he that did during the parties that the Endless siblings threw at their respective places was try to be away from his partner for a bit and when that didn't work, he excused himself from the soiree before heading back home and whenever that happened, Dream could've sworn that he saw a few tears in the other's eyes, as if it was starting to get all to much for the lad. So it was in attempt to give Heart a chance to hang out with them without feeling drained that Dream and Hob had invited the two of them for dinner two weeks ago, enticing the lad with the potato gratin that the brown-haired man had cooked for them the first time that he had visited them and while both men were waiting patiently at the door, excited to see their favorite person's smile once again when Heart would walk inside, it seemed that Desire had other plans in mind.
For the first thing that the blond did after greeting the pair was slump dramatically on a couch, covering their eyes while complaining about the music that their lover had been playing during the car-ride and before Hob could make a light-hearted comment to clear up the air, Desire said something that made Hobo Heart no longer want to stay near any of them, a sight that none of them expected : "Honestly, dear, I know that you enjoy bats, spooky things and the likes but Halloween is months away. So please, keep the 'Creature Spookster' playlist out of my car in the meantime, alright?". The look that Hobo Heart gave to his partner that day was one full of hurt and anger, the sight of it all made Dream want to hold him in his arms, let him cry all of his pain away while comforting him the best that he could but all that he could truly do at the moment was watch, powerless to do anything.
Trembling, the librarian opened his mouth to say something, but instead of saying anything to the fashion model he simply shook his head, lowering it as he asked Hob in a small voice if he could drive him home and upon hearing the sobs in those words, it took every ounce of strength in the professor's body to not tell his sibling-in-law off but as he guided the shaken boy to the door, he made sure to give Desire a deadly glare, one that had left them quite bewildered when it was followed by Dream telling them that they should leave as well and when the two where finally alone, both agreed that they couldn't let it continue any longer: on the next family event, they would make their move. Realizing that Desire had, finally, stopped talking, the ravenette slowly emerged from his thoughts, blinking a bit before sighing, rubbing his eyes with a chuckle "My apologies, it seems that my mind is not as fully awake as I have hoped, I shall make myself a cup of coffee to remedy that" He said with a smile to Hob, preferring to avoid his sibling's stare as he got up, humming as he made himself a cup, drinking it under his lover's tender gaze.
As he savored the bitterness of the beverage, Dream hummed a bit and just as he was about to take another sip, he paused, his eyes widening as a brilliant idea formed in his mind, a grin that Desire didn't like one bit forming on his lips, one that made them speak up.
"Is there something on your mind, my dear brother? From the looks of it, it must be wicked, judging from your expression alone" They commented, their golden eyes narrowed in concentration, as if they were trying to decipher their older sibling's thoughts, which seemed to amuse the writer further.
"Worry not, Desire, for my intentions are all good. I do have to ask, are you perhaps free this afternoon? If so, would you be interested in a cozy pajama party? It will be quite an enjoyable evening, that I can assure you : boardgames, a nice movie, all the tea that you could want to keep you relax...And who knows, perhaps our dearest Heart would want to attend as well, afterall," The Goth leaned in a bit, his words dropping to low whisper, the tone of it making the bombshell grit their teeth in anger; "should you prefer to leave earlier for any reason at all, we have the guest room all ready for him if he wishes to stay for the night. In fact, all of you are invited to do so, for we have a lovely breakfast planned for the morning, but come to think of it, it might be a bit too sweet for you, my sibling, so perhaps you might want to skip it all together."
Lips curled up in a humorless smile, the blond beauty felt a scream form in their throat, which they somehow managed to quiet down as they looked back at him, their tone defiant as they replied "My sweet Dream, aren't you just full of surprises? You know, I think this little...pajama party of yours just might be your best idea yet, maybe even your first ever. As for the breakfast, well I'm quite sure that I'll figure out something, so don't worry yourself with this, my dear brother. Same goes with my boyfriend, I'm sure that he would love to join us, this...sort of thing would certainly be right up his alley, of that I'm sure. There's no need to worry about Hobo Heart, for I'll be with him the whole evening, I can assure you".
Feeling that they had finally made their point, Desire slowly got off their chair, still smiling as they added "Well, this has been lovely, but I best be off : not only do I need to make sure that I look my best, I also need to notify my little dove so that he can cancel all of his other plans and join us instead" The bombshell then turned away, making their way towards the door before their older brother's velvety voice stopped them in their tracks, the words filling them with a cold rage as they gripped the doorknob hard.
"Oh, that won't be necessary, Desire. Let us busy ourselves with both the planning and your lover's invitation in your stead, sibling, and take the time to pamper yourself. I am sure that Heart will certainly appreciate all of it" Dream hardly kept the laughter in his tone as he watched his sibling storm off without as much as a goodbye, leaving the two lovers alone to their devices and while the red-lipped diva drove off in a rage, the professor wrapped his arms around his husband's waist, letting out a pleased hum as he kissed his neck, the pair now excited at the thought of hearing the cute librarian's voice once again.
"Hearty, as much as I find your grumpy morning face quite adorable, especially with your hair sticking up everywhere like this, I can't help but notice that even after your, what, fifth cup of coffee?, you still look mad, as if you want to fist-fight everyone that dares say 'Good morning' to you. And no, you can't just lie your way out of this one and try to convince me that you're fine when you clearly aren't." Corin said firmly, pushing his sunglasses up his nose with a serious expression on his face as he sat down at the table "There's clearly something that is bothering you so either you tell me what has gotten you all sour or I'm going to replace your cup with some good ol' decaff. Your choice, bud, I'm waiting". The blond then crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair, waiting for a moment before grinning as his friend abdicated, the threat of decaff compelling him to say what was weighing on his mind "I really want to tell them both how I feel, but I don't know how to do it without stammering, or without having Desire up in my space everytime that I try to be alone with Mr. Gadling or Mr. Murphy, it gets to the point where I can't even breathe for one second without them showing up when I'm alone, trying to get me to dance, cuddle or kiss me, pretending to be nice in front of the others while also insulting me at the same time, it has gotten to the point where I can't even stay, knowing that they are there."
Hobo Heart then sighed, laying his face down on the table in defeat, tiredly muttering "I know that I should just end it right then and there, but it's nearly impossible : it's almost as if they know what I'm about to say before I even open my mouth, so they do their best to make me annoyed to the point of giving up" He stopped, taking a moment to drink his coffee, giving himself some time to think while Corin leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face.
Seeing the librarian so distraught over the situation that he had gotten himself in like this made the sunglasses-wearing man's blood boil, itching to give the fashion model a piece of his mind, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to get his friend to smile like he used to so as Hobo Heart started to calm down, he looked at him with a serious expression on his face and said, with a firm but kind tone
"I really think that you should just...go ahead and tell the both of them exactly how you feel about them and no," Corin insisted, cutting off the librarian's protests "don't you dare try to give me the whole 'But what if they don't see me that way' or whatever bullshit was about to leave your mouth : it's quite obvious at this point that Hob and Dream care a lot about you, more than you can imagine and sure, it could get awkward in the end, but at the very least you'll feel a lot better. And for the love of everything, just dump Desire's ass already, preferably in the same night. I know that I might sound harsh and pushy right now, but it's for your own good".
Smiling, Corin then reached over to give Hobo Heart's bony hand a reassuring squeeze, followed by a 'You got this, okay?' before ruffling the lad's already messy hair, chuckling as he then head out of the door for his date at the local bowling alley, leaving the librarian alone with his thoughts. As he took another sip of his coffee, the white haired male pondered over his friend's words, sighing as he rested his head on the table once again, feeling more confused than ever before. Despite knowing that bottling up his feelings like this would do more harm than good, one persistent thought kept nagging him, gnawing at Heart's mind as if it were a chew toy : What if it was all a misunderstanding?
That it turns out that the two men didn't see him that way and only tried to be nice to him because of Desire? All of those doubts ran circles around his head, making him groan in defeat and just as he was about to curl up in a corner, the sound of his phone ringing made him jump, startling him out of his mopey state and bringing him back to reality. Taking a deep breath to brace himself for a potentially uncomfortable call (every conversation on the phone with his 'partner' always left him with a splitting headache, which always worsened when they were together), Hobo Heart answered the call with an hesitant 'Hello?' but to his delightful surprise, it wasn't the tyrant that he was pretend dating calling this time.
"Hello, Heart! I hope that I'm not bothering you, I wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing...It's not a bad time, Is it? I could call back later, if you would prefer that" Hob's warm voice, full of a mix of happiness and concern for the other filled the lad's whole being with happy flutters, making him flustered as he quickly stammered out a reply, trying his best to sound like a normal person and not a lovestruck fool.
"Oh, it's a perfect time, really! I'm doing well, what about you?" The librarian asked, shifting his focus on his coffee in an effort to both calm his nerves and to stop himself from embarrassing himself even more, taking a small sip as he listened to the professor's voice, letting it fill his senses for as long as he could until he heard Hob ask him a question, which brought him back to the present quickly "Sorry, I got distracted for a bit there. What were you saying?".
Hobo Heart inquired, mentally scolding himself for allowing himself to get distracted like this, this time making sure to listen carefully to what the man on the other line had been saying instead of losing his head over something like this. "I was wondering if you would be free this afternoon, my husband and I are planning a small sleep-over party of sorts, with games and a few movies. The only ones that will be attending would be the rest of the family, but if you aren't up for it won't be a problem, we could always plan something else."
The idea of a sleepwear night sounded fun, exactly what Hobo Heart needed after the crazy week that he had and the mere thought of being able to see the two heartthrobs made him all the more eager to attend so it was with a smile that he let the kind man know of his attendance, the enthusiasm in his tone bringing flutters in the other man's chest, who then took a small breath before asking the librarian a question that had been gnawing at him since the other's visit "I know that it's not my place to ask, and you don't have to have to answer if you don't feel comfortable but..." He paused, sighing a bit as he loosened his collar, trying to get comfortable on his seat before continuing "Are you happy? With Desire, I mean? There's nothing bad going on, they're treating you okay?".
The concern in Hob's words caught Hobo Heart by surprise, making him wonder if it had been that obvious, and while a part of him wanted to tell him the truth, that he wasn't happy with them, for his heart only wanted him and Dream, he didn't want to drag the poor man in his problems so he replied with a soft "Yes, Hob...I'm very happy with them. Thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern"
While he knew how insincere his own words were, he hoped with all of his heart that the professor wouldn't pry, because if he did, the young-man would surely breakdown in tears over the phone but to his relief, Hob accepted his answer, telling him that he was glad to hear that and after asking him if he it would be fine if he and his husband came by to pick the boy up, Hob hung up with a sigh, running a hand through his hair while looking at his husband, shaking his head at him with a sad expression on his face.
Seeing the look on his lover's face made Dream's heart ache as he hugged the other man tight, rubbing his back as he assured him that Desire's cruel antics would finally end, kissing his forehead lightly as he then told him to get ready while he'd get the car running and when Hob left the room, the writer gave his sibling a quick text to notify them that since that his partner and him would be picking Hobo Heart, they should take as much time as they could in the meantime to look beautiful, for that was the only thing that they could do right and after tapping send, he quickly turned off his phone so that he couldn't see the diva's response as he went outside, grinning in amusement as he imagined their anger at the message.
If Dream had known just how much the jab would annoy Desire, to the point where they were now staring at the screen in rage at the text that their 'boyfriend' had sent to confirm that they didn't need to pick him up and instead of just leaving it at that, Heart had the nerve to add : 'I hope you will enjoy your break from my monster lover playlists and the horror movie vibes, it will improve your new bitch face', he would have erupted in a fit of terrible laughter.
That last addition to the librarian's message was enough to tip them over the edge, sending them in a head-shoved-in-pillow fit of rage, screaming a bunch of obscenities in front of Despair, who didn't seem impressed by her sibling's reaction, petting her pet rat as she calmly waited for the tantrum to be over before asking "What has happened this time, Desire? Did another problem ruin your perfect plan?", which earned her a glare out of their twin as they pried their face away from the pillow, using their hands to make their hair presentable as they tried to calm down. Feeling as if they were now in control once again, the model took a deep, dramatic sigh before explaining to their sweet sister the contents of Dream's message, how the tone of it had wounded them deeply and in an attempt to prove to themself that it wasn't true, that Hobo Heart didn't choose their rivals over them, they had sent a text asking the skull-faced man if it was true and while the confirmation did wound their pride a bit, the comment about their face was the killing blow.
"After everything that I had done for him, bringing him along to all of my model shoots, taking him out shopping at the mall to convince him to get a better sense of style, this is how he thanks me?!! By comparing my beautiful face to that of our brother's?! What on earth has gotten into him, lately? He hasn't been acting like this before, usually he's all smiles and sparkling eyes but now, he seems lifeless. As if his world had lost of all it's colors, leaving behind a muddled grey" Desire sighed, resting their chin in their hand as they turned their attention to Despair, waiting for her opinion on the matter.
Lowering her head a bit, their twin pondered a bit before finally speaking "Do you think that it's possible that your little game might be hurting Heart more than you realize?" Sensing that her twin's confusion, the light-haired woman went on, fidgeting with her sleeves "You got what you wanted in the end, so why continue this, if it will only bring more problems later on?".
With a soft smile, Desire sat down next to their sister, humming a bit as they ran their fingers through her hair as they replied, hoping that the gesture would put Despair at ease "My dear sister, the game is far from over, for Dream keeps on taunting me every chance he gets, becoming more irritating by the minute. I can't let our dear Heart get away, I still need him for all of this to work...But worry not, sweet Despair, he'll see my way eventually. And I promise you, after this night is over, victory shall be ours for the taking"
They purred, petting their sibling's head still, though as much as they wanted to believe in their own words, doubt filled their minds, bringing a frown out of them as they quickly go up to get dressed and even after they got in the car with their sister, it kept on nagging them still as they drove on.
When twins arrived at the Murphy/Gadling house, the other Endless siblings were already there, greeting them with smiles that Desire returned, with a distracted nod of greeting, more focused on figuring out where the little skull-faced headache of theirs was and when they finally found him deep in conversation with Hob in the living room, they started to feel the start of a migraine but in order to keep up the happy facade, Desire walked up behind their boyfriend, yelling out 'Surprise, darling!' as they covered his eyes, giggling at the sigh that came out of the other's lips.
"Aww, don't be grumpy, little Heart, it's just me" The diva's sweet tone when they spoke irked the odd librarian, along with the nickname but what made him jump away from them to take shelter behind the kind professor was the fact that his partner had the brilliant idea to...pinch his cheek. The gesture itself wasn't gentle either, making him wince in pain as he muttered a few choice words, glaring at them from the safety of his spot, which brought a smile out of Hob, pulling the young-man closer in a protective manner that made Desire's lip twitch in a way that showed how annoyed they were at how touchy the other was towards their boyfriend but before they could do anything, their eyes locked with the icy blues of their brother Dream, making them tense up as he walked up to them, smirking almost as he pulled his husband in for a small kiss right in front of them.
Pulling away from his lover for a moment, the raven-haired writer turned his attention towards his sibling, tilting his head in amusement as he asked "Forgive me for prying, Desire, but why are are you not wearing your evening wear, Desire? Is it because you have chosen to not spend the night with us, or perhaps you have simply ran out of space in your bag? It matters not, for we could easily give you some old clothes to sleep in, it will be no trouble for us."
Dream teased, waving off Desire's interjections as he turned his attention to Hobo Heart, his tone softer as he gently took his hand in his own "You must be feeling hungry, after the lovely chat that we had. Would you like to continue it further in the kitchen, over a cup of coffee? It could give you a moment to relax before the party begins"
The lad's small 'yes,please' brought a smile out of the writer as he lead his favorite guest to the kitchen, promising to return him to Desire later though his tone itself was mocking, hinting that he wasn't on planning to stay out of his sibling's way tonight, the realization making the diva see red as they sat down on a couch with a huff, fuming as they found themselves regretting their decision to attend the pajama-party in the first place.
The only reason that they had for going in the first place to keep Heart as close to them as possible to distract the two annoyances, but even their weird-Halloween-loving boyfriend wasn't enough to stop them from making out right in front of them like before. Something wasn't right, and as much as they would have loved to get to the bottom of it, Desire had more urgent problems that needed fixing, such as keeping their boy-toy away from Dream and Hob for the rest of the evening.
Which turned out to be a seemingly impossible task, for the minute that the ravenette returned with Hobo Heart, the latter did all that he could to escape the blond's embraces, shying away from their affections and making a face whenever they kissed him, his attitude towards them becoming infatuating to the point where they sat him down with them, lifting the lad's chin to make sure that the tight-lipped librarian's eyes was on them as they spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep the twitching smile on their face as they did so
"Care to tell me what this is all about, hmm? The party has just started, everyone is having fun, yet you keep avoiding me, coming up with excuses to not be my side. Sure, I get that karaoke isn't your style, that dancing isn't your strong suit but...not wanting to play Twister? Because I'm there? That's too far, so tell me what's your problem so that we can get it over with. Come on, I'm waiting".
They urged, keeping their grip on the skull-faced nightmare's chin still, the increasing pressure of it finally making him snap "Well maybe if you would stop trying to squeeze me every chance that you get, I'd be in a better mood! Or give me a chance to decide how much I'm willing to embarrass myself in front of your siblings without ruining your perfect image...Oh wait, I already do that all the time by just standing next to you!" Hobo Heart yelled, pulling away from a shocked Desire, keeping his head down to not look anyone else in the eyes as he muttered that he needed space to breathe before quickly heading over to the kitchen, his heart beating fast in his chest as he let himself fall into a chair, breath shaky as he clenched his eyes shut.
Trying his best to not breakdown in tears, the librarian attempted to calm down by breathing in and out slowly, keeping his eyes shut but when he felt arms wrap around him, gently pulling him into a hug with soft whispers, Hobo Heart finally let all the hurt that he had felt out, weeping his poor little heart in the kind soul's arms, sobs leaving his dual-colored lips at the soothing-rocking motion that eased his pain, eventually calming him down.
As he opened his eyes, the young-man froze as he slowly looked up at Hob, shame on his face as he realized that he had bawled like a baby in the arms of the man that he fancied, feeling really bad about it to the point of apologizing for it, but the professor simply wiped the remainder of his tears, kissing his forehead gently as he softly said "It's alright, love...If a shoulder to cry on is what you need right now, then I'm more happy to give you that comfort".
After brushing his hair away from his eyes a bit, the history expert got off his chair to pour the sad librarian a cup of coffee, placing it in front of him with smile before sitting down next to him, giving the other man a chance to relax as he drank his coffee in silence while pondering on what to say next. Pressing his lips together, sighing as he debated inwardly if it was the right time or not, Hob took Heart's hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze as he gently spoke to him, his voice full of love and affection "I know that this might seem strange, out of the blue even...And before I say anything, I just want you to know that I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, alright?" He waited for the other's nod of approval before taking a deep breath to settle his agitated nerves, wanting to not stumble over his own words as he finally said the words that he had wanted to say so badly but didn't have the courage to say out loud.
"My husband and I have been debating on whether or not to tell you this, since you are in a relationship with his sibling and all, but he and I have grown fond of you. That fondness then turned into love over time, since the day you first came into our lives. Your presence alone brings so much joy into our lives, for it's a delight to have you around the house, especially when you stay for the night, Heart and..." Hob paused, gently pressing a soft kiss onto the white-haired lad's hand before continuing "We would like you to stay here, with us. We're already planning to turn the guest room into a more permanent one for you to sleep in, but in the end it's your decision, love".
The professor said with a smile as he let go of the shocked lad's hand, softly adding "You don't have to say anything right now, nor need to give us an answer : we'll always be here for you if you need a place to stay or a shoulder to cry on. Remember, we are just a call away" Placing a kiss on Hobo Heart's forehead, Hob walked out of the kitchen, followed by the young-white haired librarian, who ran quickly in the living room in search of Desire to put an end to his torment, once and for all. Once he found them, Heart dragged Desire away to talk to them in private, insisting that it not only was it urgent, he wanted to do it away from the others and to his relief, they complied, following him without much complaint but when the skull-faced man told them that he couldn't continue any further with the facade, that he couldn't stay in a relationship that could never provide him with the love that he so desperately craved...they were pissed. So pissed in fact that their shouts of disapproval could be heard by the other people in the living room and despite Hobo Heart's attempt to let them down gently, the diva stormed out of the room, and with a "And to think that I came all this way for absolutely nothing, just to get broken up with like this!! You can stay and enjoy the rest of the party, my dear Despair, but I cannot stay another minute here. Now if you will excuse me, I have a spa day to plan for the week, goodbye", Desire slammed the door behind them, leaving the rest of the Endless siblings to stare at one another in confusion before shrugging, deciding to drop all the other board games that had planned on playing to watch a movie instead and after it was over, everyone went off to bed, all feeling tired after the fun that they all had. Everyone except Hobo Heart, who had been waiting for the Endless siblings to have all fallen asleep so that he could leave the guest room quietly without being noticed and when the coast was clear, the skull-faced librarian, in his footsie-Halloween-themed onesie silently crept up to the Murphy/Gadling bedroom, looking around to make sure that no one was looking.
Taking a deep breath, Heart then gave a light knock on the door, waiting for either of them to open the door and when he saw Hob's sleepy face, all of his sense of reason flew out of the window as he gave him a kiss, grinning as he whispered "I know that you told me that I didn't need to give an answer right away, but I couldn't wait any longer", chuckling a bit as the history professor carried him inside their shared bedroom, kissing his face all over as he placed his now boyfriend between his husband and himself in the bed, kissing him further while Dream played with his hair.
The three lovers eventually fell asleep in the arms of one another and while they all knew that they would have to act normal in the morning, they would make sure to show their skeleton darling just how grateful they were to have him in their lives.
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tj-dragonblade · 1 year ago
Text
[FIC] London Fog
Rated: M Word Count: 3504 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, sort of failed at being fluff though, human AU, post-vacation blues, Dream of the Endless is a stubborn miserable bastard, Dream of the Endless is a sad wet cat, divorced Dream, hopeful ending don't worry, background Hob & Johanna, Hob and Johanna are besties, Jessamy for MVP, Jessamy and Dream are besties, no actual smut herein, but there IS one spicy recollection midway through
Sequel to Caribbean Sunset. This was supposed to be a quick fluffy scene of parting ways at the end of the cruise, of Hob communicating respect for Dream's boundaries along with the desire to see him again. But then 'what are Dream's reasons for hesitating' suddenly turned into backstory full of angst and depression and steered us into post-vacation blues and this is not the fluff I set out to write but I am happy enough with it all the same.
If anyone is sensitive to topics of marital fidelity and full disclosure, please click the read-more and scroll to the bottom for quick spoilers before proceeding.
Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 13 choice snuggling furry Day 14 phone bubble bath doll Day 15 cord bakery honey
Summary: Dream does his best to ignore Possibilities while he copes with returning from holiday
On AO3
The ship's main atrium is crowded with passengers queuing up for debarkation, loud with the murmur of many voices, but there is only one voice that hold's Dream's attention at the moment.
"I mean. We both live in London; it's not unthinkable we might get together again? Have a drink, grab a bite, get to know each other better?"
Hob's tone is bright, hopeful; the light in his eyes is so very alluring, and Dream is almost tempted.
But circumstances do not permit him to indulge in such fantasies, not now that his cruise has come to an end—the divorce continues to drag on, courtesy of Alex's father, and Dream is uncertain beyond that whether he even wants any relationship ever again; each attempt has gone worse than the last and Hob…Hob is sweet, and kind, and an excellent lay, and Dream. Would not wish to drag him into the festering detritus of his own life.
He has not even left the ship, yet, and already the weight and gloom of reality are pressing heavy at his shoulders.
How he longs to stretch this holiday into infinity, to never have to go back.
He steels himself, forcibly pushes the gathering melancholy away, meets Hob's lovely gaze with a sad smile.
"Hob. I adore you; I hope that much is clear. But my life is. Convoluted, at present, and I am. Messy, at relationships, in general. I do not want to taint—" He blows out a breath, tries again. "This has been wonderful, amazing, so very easy; we fuck and we frolic and we have no cares, no responsibilities, and I would book both of us onto the turnaround cruise immediately if it were feasible, so that we might continue. I am not looking forward to returning to all that waits for me at home."
"All the more reason for a breath of something new, something you could carry over from holiday?" Hob's face is so open, so reasonable and guileless and hopeful.
Dream shakes his head, adamant. "As I said, I am messy. In the ordinary day-to-day, in the mundanity of work and circumstance I. I grow neglectful—cruel, I have been told, many times—and…you will grow weary, of my demands, my eccentricities, of my capricious moods and sullen temper."
"I won't, though," Hob says, smiling, as if it is truly that simple. They have been acquainted for a week, much of which was spent in vigorous activities other than deep conversation, and yet Hob speaks with firm conviction as if they have known one another for months. "But I get it. A fling on holiday is not a real relationship." He tugs on his ear, offers his sweet, warm smile. "All the same, I really like you, and I would love the chance to see if we could be something more. So." He holds out a hand. "Phone, love?"
Dream is responding to the easy endearment before he even realizes, unlocking his phone and handing it to Hob.
"Here's what we'll do," Hob says, fingers flying over the screen. "I'll give you my number. Just that. And if you ever want to call, you can. I don't have your info so I can't violate that boundary. It's entirely up to you." He hands the phone back to Dream and there he is, 'Hob' in his contacts, just a number, with a cartoon lemur from the default gallery as his pic. "If you delete it, if you never call, so be it. I'll always remember you fondly. But if you decide you'd like to see me again, please know I'd love to hear from you. Even if you don't want to date, if you just need to let off some steam no strings attached, I would be happy to be there for you." He smiles, soft and just a little self-depracating. "I'm shooting my shot, as they say, so you know where I stand. But the power's in your hands, dove; the choice is yours. And I'll respect it, whatever you decide."
Dream blinks, clutches his phone tightly, a little bit breathless at how astute Hob is. He's barely mentioned his life in any depth when they did talk; Hob was a holiday tryst in the midst of his interminable ongoing divorce and he hadn't intended on any deeper connection or true getting-to-know-one-another conversations. At most he may have mentioned a 'controlling ex' in passing and he genuinely cannot say for sure; Hob has kept him suitably occupied with other thoughts.
But here is Hob, either extrapolating from that comment or running entirely off intuition, handing him full autonomy over whether or not he wants to pursue any further acquaintance.
"Thank you," he says, eyes pricking with the threat of tears. Perhaps—perhaps—
But no. Best not to even think about 'perhaps'. There is too much to sort out at home still; he does not need to indulge in what-ifs and flights of fancy.
"Can I kiss you? One last time?" Hob asks, and Dream throws his arms about Hob's neck and kisses him first, heedless of the crowded atrium.
It is heaven, the soft slide of Hob's mouth fitting to his, the gentle teasing curl of his tongue, and Dream realizes with a sudden fierce ache that he is going to miss it terribly.
It is more difficult than he would like to end it.
"Goodbye, Hob Gadling," he murmurs, close to Hob's lips, and reluctantly steps back. "Thank you for making this cruise so wonderfully memorable." His hands find both of Hob's, squeeze them.
Hob smiles, soft and bright and the slightest bit sad. He leans in, presses a lingering kiss to the corner of Dream's mouth. "Bye, Dream," he says, gentle and quiet, and then he's sliding from Dream's grasp, turning, walking away.
Dream watches him go, watches as Johanna emerges from the crowd to corral him; he is still watching when Hob glances back over his shoulder with that same beatific melancholy in his smile. Dream gives him a small wave, tries his best to smile in return.
And then Hob is gone, swallowed up in the throng of passengers streaming into the gangway, and Dream deflates.
"This dream is over," he mutters to himself, and makes his way off the ship.
~ Hob and Johanna had boarded a bus for Disney World; there is no chance of encountering them at the airport. The thought gives Dream bitter resolve as he checks his luggage at the kiosk and makes his way through security, finds the first class lounge, settles in to wait for his 6pm departure time.
Two hours in to the transatlantic flight, long limbs comfortably folded into his first class aisle seat and beginning to protest the stillness, he sets his mind to wandering. How wonderful it might have been, to change his plans, to accompany Hob to 'the happiest place on earth'. Hob has been delightful company in and out of the bedroom and Johanna was agreeable enough; he had immensely enjoyed the time they spent together on St. Thomas. He has never been to any Disney park, on any continent, and while it has never seemed like something he would enjoy he now finds himself imagining such a visit in Hob's company, laughing at Hob's childlike delight as they queue for rides and attractions, shopping for souvenirs, sampling street foods and specialty offerings of every kind.
But no. It would be rude to invite himself on the next leg of Hob's holiday with Hob's friend; Dream had already monopolized Hob's time on the cruise and while Johanna had been very adaptable in that regard, Dream would not wish to impose further.
Besides which. There are meetings with solicitors to be attended, in hopes of finally moving the onerous divorce proceedings to a close; his company and accounts need his attention and it would be unfair of him to expect Jessamy to shoulder that load for longer simply because he is weary of his responsibilities and far too attached to his holiday fling.
With a sigh, he pushes all thoughts aside and closes his eyes, attempting sleep.
~ Jessamy meets him at Heathrow after he's cleared customs in the morning; he is tired, and grateful for her brisk efficiency in getting him to the waiting car and home to his sleek modern flat. Today is for dealing with jet lag; tomorrow he will return to the office and his responsibilities full time. All the same, there are things he can go over with Jessamy in the name of catching up and being prepared, once he's had a nap. Airline travel is not conducive to meaningful sleep.
"Good to have you home, Dream," Jessamy says, as she rolls the suitcase she brought in over to where he's dropped the rest of his luggage.
"Thank you, Jessamy." He hopes she understands that he means for everything, not just that single sentiment; she makes his life run smoothly in a way he can hardly imagine being without.
"Of course." She flashes a cheeky grin. "You must tell me about all the exciting and unmentionable shenanigans you got up to, after you've slept. I'll be back this afternoon so we can touch base properly."
Dream collapses in his bed after she's left, the sheets crisp and clean and the pillowcase cool against his face, and dreams of Hob's hands on his skin.
~ He settles back into his mundane routines easily, as if he's never left, the same way it always happens when he returns from holiday. He meets with investors, he addresses the shareholders, he facilitates talks between Finance and Marketing to adjust the budget for next fiscal year and allocate additional funding for the long-term studies requested by the latter. He meets with his solicitors, who assure him that each of the latest demands and stipulations brought by the Burgess camp have been refused and countered and the directive given once more to sign the final document that Dream had thought far too generous six months ago. They are optimistic that there will be no further objections.
Dream will not allow himself that hope until it actually comes to pass.
He thinks of Hob frequently.
It is mid-March, a full month since returning, when he finds himself gazing yet again at the innocuous entry in his contacts, the cartoon lemur staring back at him brightly.
He ought to delete it. He ought to cut the thread that holds him to the glimmer of impossibility and impracticality, of unrealistic expectations. It has been a month; surely Hob has realized by now that he will not call and has put the entire notion behind him. Dream is foolish, to keep the number in his phone, to entertain the occasional daydream of actually calling. He has not; he will not. There is no point in letting the contact remain.
He recalls, with aching clarity, their last night aboard ship when they had finally put the bed to carnal use, having exhausted all other options within the suite and private deck. Hob had put him facedown on his knees and lovingly opened him up on tongue and fingers until he spilled, helpless, then put him on his back and fucked him tenderly to another climax before finishing himself. Dream remembers the way Hob kissed him throughout, slow and thorough; he remembers with a shiver of longing Hob's fingers carding through his hair, cradling his thighs, stroking down his neck, his shoulders. He recalls Hob's voice, soft and fervent, murmuring endearments and appreciation against his mouth, his skin; he remembers how he fought to keep from crying, overwhelmed by the adoration that Hob poured into him.
He had felt…cherished. It was only a holiday indulgence, a fantasy of possibilities, but oh, how he had wanted. It was delightful to curl in sleep with Hob, to be held, to imagine that this kind and beautiful near-stranger truly cared for him beyond the pleasure they found in one another.
It was so easy to pretend that he was loved.
He closes his contacts without deleting Hob's entry.
~ "So this gentleman you met on your cruise," Jessamy starts one day in April, over breakfast. She has brought him a decadent blueberry danish from the bakery near her flat and is picking delicately at her own lemon poppyseed muffin. "He left you his number, you said?"
"Yes." Dream takes an enormous bite of the pastry, delighting in the sweet tang of the blueberry filling on his tongue, the sugary melt of the glaze and the flake of the crust. He does not like where this conversation seems to be headed, but it is Jessamy, and her offering is delicious, so he will endure it.
"Are you ever going to call him?" She plucks another small chunk of her muffin between two elegant glittery-black nails and pops it into her mouth, watching him with sharp, knowing eyes.
Dream chews slowly, allowing himself time to ponder the question until his mouth is empty. "I do not know," he says at last, honestly. "I should not; there is little point. Yet I cannot quite let go of the fantasy."
"There's little harm in a spot of fantasy, though, is there," she returns. "It's human nature to spin ourselves what-ifs and wouldn't-it-be-nices."
"Perhaps," Dream allows, and returns to his Danish.
It has been two months now since the cruise; the longer he goes without calling Hob, the more foolish he feels when he imagines how it might play out if he did. It is fanciful nonsense, all of it; Hob has certainly put Dream far from his mind by now.
Hob's number remains in his phone, the bright-eyed lemur inciting a small pang of fondness and regret any time he scrolls past it.
~ It is the last week in May that the divorce is at long last finalized, legitimized, and filed as complete.
Dream feels a celebration would be appropriate. He considers dressing down and dolling up, visiting the clubs that he had taken to frequenting after he and Alex officially separated more than two years ago. Sex would be a lovely way to celebrate, especially when it's been months since the last time he'd gotten laid—
The notion passes silently on before it can truly take hold. Sex would be nice, yes, but now he is thinking of that last time, and all he wants is Hob.
Jessamy brings champagne to his office as evening sets in. "I heard the good news," she says, waggling the pair of stemmed glasses in her hand. "Congratulations on finally being legally and officially rid of the twat."
"Thank you." Dream rises and takes the glassware; Jessamy pops the cork and pours for them both, then lifts her glass. "To freedom?"
Dream matches her. "To correcting mistakes which ought never have been made," he amends, and they drink.
~ Two glasses later, the conversation has turned to Dream's Future Prospects, a topic far more easily navigated when mellowed by the champagne in his bloodstream.
"I am better off alone, Jessamy."
Jessamy tilts her head at him, frowning.
"No, I don't think you are," she offers at last.
"Nonsense." Dream feels very strongly that his point is valid. "Every relationship I have had has been. Catastrophic."
"Well, yes. You did make magnificently bad choices in your last two marriages."
"And the others?"
"You and Nada were both far too young when you eloped." She shakes her head slightly. "And everyone in between were decent enough people, just…not right for you, ultimately. There were plenty of reasons for things not working out, but that doesn't mean you stop trying."
"The fact that I have seven failed marriages behind me when I am barely forty years old leads me to think otherwise." Dream tips another small measure of champagne into his glass. "I would be wise to seek out my casual dalliances when I wish for them and swear off the idea of romance. I would be far happier."
Jessamy is giving him that look, the one that says he's full of shit but she'll find a kinder way to point it out. "Would you, though?"
"Of course. You are happy, are you not?"
"Yes, but I'm aromantic. You very much are not, Dream. You thrive on the thrill of falling in love, of wooing and being wooed and grand gestures of devotion."
He swirls his glass, once, pouting. She is correct, of course; she knows him better than anyone, has been his friend for most of his life and his assistant for most of his career. He is very much in love with being in love, which makes the parade of failed marriages in his wake all the more painful.
"You are right, of course," he reiterates aloud, melancholy stealing over him. "The idea of finding someone for one night does not even hold the appeal it did before I went on holiday. I just keep thinking of Hob."
Jessamy cocks her head at him again, raises an eyebrow, gaze bright and astute. "The fantasy in your phone whom you've never called?"
"Yes."
"That good, was he?"
"He was not—he was, rather, but it was not just that." He can feel the emotion swelling in his chest and makes no effort to hide it; Jessamy will not judge him ill for it. "Hob is kind, and sweet, and so full of life; he is a brilliant soul, warm and chivalrous and—and—" He has run out of words.
"And hot?" Jessamy's grin is sly.
"And hot," Dream admits, mournfully, "and such a good kisser, and Jessamy, I miss him. He went to Disney World, after the cruise." He looks at her, everything laid bare in his eyes, tongue comfortably loose with champagne. "I wanted very much to go with him."
"Wow."
"Yes." Dream looks away, breathing past the ache in his chest; he cannot deny that the space Hob has occupied in his thoughts since February is far more than warranted by a simple holiday tryst.
Jessamy sighs gently. "Then. Perhaps—and hear me out here—perhaps you should call him."
Dream shakes his head, miserable. "I will ruin him, I will ruin whatever feeling lies between us. As I did with Calliope, and Will, and Nuala—"
"Every relationship is different, Dream. Every set of variables, every chance—maybe it won't work, but maybe it will. You don't know without trying."
"…Perhaps."
Jessamy sets her glass aside and rises to leave. She lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly in passing. "Life is too short, Dream. Reach for happiness, every now and again. You deserve it as much as anyone."
~ Dream stares at the little cartoon lemur on his phone screen long after Jessamy has left, stares at Hob's name beneath it.
Is he truly thinking of calling, after all this time?
It is pointless, hopeless; surely Hob has long since moved on. Besides which, it is late. He does not even know what Hob does for a living, whether he is likely to still be awake at 9pm on a Tuesday but even so, it does not matter. It is far too late in the evening for unsolicited non-emergency phone calls, particularly when he is morbidly tipsy from finishing off the bottle of champagne; he swipes out of his contacts, heart thudding in his chest as though he's just narrowly missed out on calamity.
Or opportunity.
~ He stares at the lemur again the next day, and the next, and the next, debating with himself, thumb hovering over the number while his pulse pounds sickly with nerves. He wants to call, more than he might have wanted anything in recent memory; he is terrified to try, to take the risk, to burn the gauze of fantasy to the ground in hopes that a beautiful reality will rise from the ashes.
The lemur's cartoon eyes stare brightly back, unhelpful.
~ At last, on the seventh of June, half past noon on a bright sunny day, Dream can dither no more over insecurities and cautionary woes.
He wants, and he is tired of pretending that he does not.
He steels himself, closes his eyes and lets his thumb touch down.
Trembling, breath held, he brings the phone to his ear.
There is ringing on the other end, three times, a fourth, and then the sound of the line connecting.
A voice, a voice wonderfully familiar despite how long it has been since last he heard it, speaks up. "Hello, Robert Gadling here…"
Dream opens his eyes and exhales, heart in his throat. "Hob?"
There is a sudden stillness over the line. "…Dream?" Dream can hear the bright smile breaking over Hob's face. "Is that you?!"
The tension bleeds out of him in a rush and he is smiling as well, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he cradles the phone in both hands, curling toward the warm glow of possibility it offers.
Perhaps, perhaps this time, if he only believes.
"Hello, Hob."
= Started: 2/13/24 Drafted: 2/15/24 Posted: 2/15/24
The Extra Warning note: We find out here that Dream is still in the middle of a years-long messy divorce from Alex Burgess while on the cruise; he has technically committed adultery with Hob. Hob does not know and will not find out at this juncture. If this makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you need to give this a pass.
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five-and-dimes · 7 months ago
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47 & 50 for the ao3 asks pls!!
47. Shout out an incomplete fic you read this year
Oooh I'm going to shout out... many actually lol. I have a lot that I go back and reread frequently, and I have them open on my phone and tell myself I need to leave long comments about how much I love them regardless of completion and then I forget until I'm in the middle of work. For that, I am truly truly sorry to all these authors. These shout outs do not negate my plan to leave proper comment, promise!!
call your boy a book the way i want to get between his covers by @softest-punk (Notting Hill AU, Hob Gadling, actor, newly out, ducks into a second-hand bookshop while running from the paparazzi. Inside he finds Dream, who might be slightly magic, is definitely beautiful, and hasn't seen a single one of his films. Naturally, he falls in love instantly. It's the happily ever after he's got to work on.)
their choicest and most rare invention by @beatnikfreakiswriting (Early Modern AU, London, June 7th, 1592. Hob Gadling sees a young man on stage, and falls in love. London, June 7th, 1604. Hob Gadling returns from Amsterdam, alone in the world but for his grief, and his player who yet treads the boards.
would you go along with someone like me? by @hardly-an-escape (College AU, Hob is a freshman history major and a first generation college student, while Morpheus is completing a graduate degree in poetry. When they're crammed into a small room together due to a shortage of on-campus housing, it seems like an odd couple situation at best and a recipe for disaster at worst. But as the months go by, mutual respect turns into real friendship. And then... something happens that Hob never expected.)
Ten Dates by @kydrogendragon (Human AU, Dream makes a bet with Death that involves going on ten dates with a man he meets at a bar in order to get his sister to stop meddling in his love life. A fake dating fic where only one person knows it's fake.)
wild horses by @delta-pavonis (Human AU, Hob is a biker who runs a gay bar, and starts running into another mysterious biker on his occasional star gazing trips.)
Like Real People Do by @pellaaearien (Sequel to "Another Word For Ache", Getting together is just the start of the story. Any relationship takes work, and Hob isn't about to back down. Come hell or high water, nothing is going to stop him being there for Dream. He probably should have guessed how very literal that was going to turn out to be.
Whew okay I'll stop there. I love all of you 💕
50. You're favorite comment you left or received this year
Can't possibly choose an individual one, but a lot of people commented on "Sunbeam" specifically to let me know that they were skeptical about the au but still read it because they liked my writing and ended up enjoying it! I was so flattered that people were willing to give something that wasn't usually their jam a chance just because they liked my writing 🥺💕
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aziraphalala · 2 years ago
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More Sandman x Good Omens crossover, and more Immortal Couples ✨️shenanigans✨️ during Ren Fair 🥰
Also I thought I'd add some personal headcanons in the thread to let you know the lore behind this drawing 😆
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In my head, I imagined that Crowley and Dream knew each other because of our favourite demon's extended stays in the Dreaming during his long naps, but also because of the bicentenial spats between Morpheus and Lucifer. Most demons tend to hate and fear Morpheus, but I think Crowley would rather like his style, and despite his distrust I'd like to think they could get along (but as a demon Crowley couldn't help teasing Dream from time to time).
Aziraphale also knows Morpheus by name, but would not necessarily have had a real opportunity to meet him until now. I think they'd have a lot to talk about though (even if I haven't drawn him here), as a great book lover and the literal Prince of Stories I'd like to think that one day Dream was even able to show an ecstatic Aziraphale around his library, bringing tears to his eyes with emotion (Morpheus even gave him one of the scrolls lost during the burning of the Alexandria library)
As for Hob and Aziraphale, I like to think that these two have crossed paths several times during auctions of antiques. Keen to keep up appearances at first, they met under several aliases, before dropping the masks after a few centuries of chance encounters. Even though they each realised their respective immortality, they remained discreet about it and did not seek to find out more or ask questions, choosing simply to enjoy each other's company despite their obvious competition when it came to collecting rare objects.
I'd also like to think that Crowley has had the opportunity to meet and chat with Hob in the Dreaming during his long naps, and that he likes the guy for his good-naturedness and kindness. Crowley also knew that Hob sometimes visited Dream in his palace, but he never realised that they had "this" kind of relationship. And who doesn't love a little gossip? 🤭
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henryscapon · 2 years ago
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so it's my birthday today!!! 😎 i'm 23 years old, and i've had this blog for almost 3 years now, so i thought now is as good a time as any to celebrate!
because i thought it would be fun, i've decided to curate a list of some of my favorite blorbos in their respective pairings and put them into this poll! after a week, i will make a special gifset for the ships that make it into the top 5 spots!
the winning ships will be announced in their own special post and anyone can join in on the fun and make a gifset/fan-art/writing/etc of the top 5 ships as well! just @ me in the post or include the tag #emilysbbb and i'll be sure to share it! :D
rules:
reblogs aren't necessary but are greatly appreciated!
if you want to, you can put your 2nd and 3rd choices in the tags, i'll make sure to add those to the calculations when the poll is over! :)
this is a very silly, unserious poll, and this is not my complete and definitive list of favorite ships (since tumblr polls only allow 12 choices rip), this is all just for funsies!
tagging some mutuals below the cut:
no pressure to reblog!! just thought it would be fun to give yall a heads up and the chance to be the first ones to vote! &lt;3
@latr1nal1a @willgaham @milkovichys @his-name-is-ed @stedebonnets @blakbonnet @rainbowbonnet @kendallroycos @userstede @figmentof @captain-flint @cobbbvanth @startreklesbian @crowleyaj @queerbuck @djarin @djaarins @captain-stede @torybrennan @seance @dykefaggotry @ad-astrah @nobie @edwarbteach @stars-bean @jacobglaser
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rainbowmoonstonestories · 2 years ago
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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 9
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Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.
Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.
Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics
This chapter includes detailed smut. Minors please dni!
Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.
Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)
Note: This chapter is, once again, particularly long. If you feel like reading it on Tumblr is not convenient, feel free to do so on AO3 instead (link at the bottom). I only ask that you like and/or share this post so that other people can find my work. I would really appreciate it! ♥
UPDATE MAY 2025: Chapter rewritten to better match my current writing style. It now has better wording and a few more additions.
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Morpheus decided to reveal a secret: a tragic event from one of his ancient relationships. However, substantial details about his past remained undisclosed.
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"Exactly how old are you?"
Hob turned to face you with twinkling eyes full of mischief and curiosity, letting out a soft chuckle. "Ah, been waiting for that one to come up," he said cheerfully.
"It's not every day you find out your best friend is immortal," you said, your voice tinged with both excitement and amazement.
Hob waved his hand dismissively. "Do you really know what he is? Like, properly know?"
“Do you?”
"Well, at least I reckon I do. Took me ages to work that one out, mind you. He’s a right stubborn bastard when it comes to conversation." He smiled wryly. "How did you come to know about all this?"
You hesitated, carefully considering your response. Out of respect for Morpheus’ privacy, you felt it best to keep the information confidential until he chose to reveal it himself. 
"Meeting him wasn't planned. It was pure chance when we were introduced."
Your explanation didn’t exactly constitute a falsehood. Hob, on the other hand, didn’t show much faith in what you disclosed, his expression showing a hint of skepticism. 
"Level with me here. Something happened to him while he was away, didn't it?"
You took a deep breath. "Why do you think that?"
“Look, something's not adding up. You say you met him at work, right? But every time I ask about him, you dance around it like you're trying to avoid stepping on hot coals. And I'm not blind - I've seen how different he is now. You know something, don't you? More than you're letting on." 
Your feelings of discomfort were evident as you regarded him with a look of guilt on your face. If you were to share the actual details in your possession without Morpheus’ explicit consent, you would most likely incur his disapproval and potential ire.
You were torn between your loyalty to your best friend and your desire to be loyal to the one you loved.
You touched his shoulder, your fingers curling around it lightly, your gaze meeting his as you spoke. "Hob, I'm sorry. I could never lie to you," you said, feeling remorseful. "It’s just… I'm not the right person to tell you that."
There was a moment of palpable silence as he seemed lost in thought. But then, he tried to alleviate the tension by gently clasping your hand, leaning back on the bench with a reassuring smile.
"Just tell me straight up: whatever happened to him, was it really bad? Is that why he stood me up in '89?" He inquired.
You sighed heavily. "Yes, it was awful. And yes, he couldn't come to your appointment because of that occurrence."
Hob exhaled a sigh of relief. "At least now I know he wasn't ghosting me."
“You were not the problem, I assure you.”
He laughed lightly, his expression conveying a sense of calmness, finally dismissing his accumulated worries and frustrations. "To answer your question, I've honestly lost track at this point. I met our mutual friend back in 1389, so that's what... over 600 years now? Bloody hell, when you say it out loud like that..."
While you had previously been aware of the concept of immortality, the notion of a human never experiencing death was still quite unbelievable to you.
"How did you manage to stay in one place for so long?”
Hob responded with a shrug. "Well, it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. I had to switch up my identity here and there, change my name every so often. People got right suspicious - you know how it is, thought I'd made some deal with the devil himself.”
He paused, delving deeper into his memories.
“Back in 1789, this posh lady shows up; Lady Johanna Constantine.  She was dead set on learning how the two of us could stay alive so long."
“What happened then?”
His lips curved upward into a wide grin, his entire face now emitting an aura of amusement and contentment. "Oh, you're gonna love this one. Picture it: there we were, minding our own business at our usual table, when this woman struts in with two massive blokes behind her, carrying this bloody awful painting of us. Right dramatic. Gets right up to our table and says: ‘They tell of a tale in these London parts, that the Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century in a tavern.’”
You laughed heartily at his comical attempt to mimic the woman’s persona, the gesture of placing his hands together in his lap and straightening up while doing so creating a humorous image in your mind. "The Wandering Jew? Was that meant to be you?” 
You were unable to suppress the mirth that welled up inside you, amused by the absurdity of the situation. However, his statement still held a certain degree of wit and charm, despite being quite far-fetched.
"Oh yes, you should've seen that drawing! Made me look like I'd been in a right nasty pub brawl, nose all wonky and everything. And him? Blimey, they'd drawn him looking like some sort of brooding Vulture from the Twilight movies.”
You struggled to keep a straight face, laughter threatening to bubble up even more. "Why do I suddenly picture you as Flynn Rider, yelling ‘They just can’t get my nose right!’?”
"That's exactly how I felt!"
"And then what?"
“She was like: ‘You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men, sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me.’”
As Hob continued to mimic the lady’s manners, his pitch became lower and more bass. You were quite surprised to see how crisp and clear his recollections were despite the lengthy period of time that had gone by since that day.
"Didn't even bat an eye, that one. Never does, mind you. Lady Constantine was proper keen on getting him to spill his secrets, but he just gave her this polite 'No, I think not'."
It was astounding to see how hooked you now were to his narrative, the story capturing your interest as if you were listening to a masterful storyteller. 
"Well, things got a bit messy when her thugs stepped up. I knocked them both flat - quite proud of that actually - but then Johanna had her blade right at my throat, proper nasty piece of work. That's when our friend, cool as you like, just stands up and throws a bit of his sand in her face. Down she went, whispering about some nightmare only she could see. Very effective trick."
You felt excited, placing your elbow against the back of the bench and listening attentively.
"I reckon that's when I first started putting two and two together. I was a bit slow on the uptake."
“I wish I could have seen you back then.”
Hob's face brightened with joy and satisfaction as he smiled at you. He released a breath from his nostrils and affectionately patted your knee in a brotherly way. "I'm glad you know my secret now. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for ages, but never quite found the right moment."
"If I hadn't met him myself, I would have found it impossible to believe," you said.
"You should've seen me when I first noticed I wasn't aging. I nearly lost my marbles. I had to keep checking the mirror every morning like some vain git."
“How did it happen?”
He replied with a shake of his head. "Back in 1389, I was down at the pub with my mates, having a few pints. Everyone around us was dying, and I just sort of declared, bold as brass, that death was a mug's game and I had no intention of dying. I made up my mind, said right there that I wasn't having any of it. And here I am."
“That’s it?”
He nodded. "Then he shows up, right? Tall fella, pale as anything, dressed all in black. Knew my name straightaway, which was proper weird. He said we should meet up again, same pub, hundred years later. I thought he was joking."
You hummed in understanding. "And there you both were, a century later."
"Just like clockwork."
“So, how did it feel like?”
His smile expanded further as he observed your genuine curiosity. "Terrifying at first. Confusing too. But then... absolutely brilliant, like nothing else in the world. Still is, if I'm being honest."
Morpheus had informed you about his excitement surrounding the prospect of immortality. While it might seem like a blessing to many mortals, you always believed it to be quite a bane for the simple reason that you would be destined to outlive every friend and loved one.
However, the prospect of eternal life appeared to outweigh any potential drawbacks in Hob's perspective.
“You should join me.”
You snapped out of your thoughts, your head tilting with confusion. “What?”
"I'll be straight with you," he said, leaning forward with a larger smile. "Much as I love this whole immortal business, it gets a bit lonely sometimes. I’ve been thinking, if you got the same deal, we could do this together. Watch the world change, share a drink every century. It would be a proper adventure."
While he may have delivered the comment in a light-hearted manner, you could distinctly detect that a part of him was quite earnest about the idea.
"Hob, I doubt he's the one who gave you immortality."
"I might not know exactly how it happened, but it well happened to me, didn't it? If some random bloke in a pub can end up living forever, who's to say it couldn't happen to someone else?"
You contemplated the pros and cons of committing to an existence alongside your lover in the world of Dreams and your best friend in the Waking World. You were unsure as to whether it would be appropriate to request a similar gift for their sakes, given that there was still so much you had yet to discover about Morpheus, or immortality itself.
The prospect of aging while they remained eternally unchanged, watching them continue their immortal journeys without you, stirred an undeniable sense of restlessness within you.
"I've got centuries of stories that'd make your head spin - stuff I've never told another soul. Fancy hearing a few?"
You fully turned, crossing your legs and bracing your head with one hand. You reclined on the bench, adjusting your position to be more comfortable as you encouraged him. “I’m all ears!”
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The sudden ring of your phone echoed through the living room, prompting you to quickly answer the incoming call. Upon seeing the caller ID, you momentarily froze, taken aback by the unexpected name that appeared on your screen.
You had lost contact with this particular friend after your college years when she relocated abroad to pursue higher education. You had enstablished a questionable tendency to distance yourself from those dear to you, providing them with the opportunity to embark on their journeys and find their place in the world without your presence constraining them.
The purpose and timing of her unexpected contact after such an extended absence were rather peculiar. You paused, your finger hovering over your phone, considering the possibility that this might have been an accidental dial.
After a moment's hesitation, you picked up, your voice wavering slightly. “Hello…?”
“Y/N!!!!”
You had to move the device away from your ear as the boisterous exclamation caused it to vibrate against your skull with significant force.
“Oh my goodness, It’s been so long! How have you been?”
"Ella? Is it really you?"
"Of course it's me, silly! Who else would be calling you from my number?”
Her positive and upbeat approach to life was something that you always found endearing and enjoyable. A smile instantly spread across your face as memories of your school years flooded back like scenes from an old film.
“Y/N? Are you there?”
“I am, sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”
You heard her sigh. "I know this is sudden. I should have called you a long time ago, but things got so hectic that I cut myself out from everything and everyone I used to know.”
“I understand.”
A huge wave of teenage feelings crashed over your mind, rendering you simultaneously sentimental and nostalgic.
“Look, I need to be honest with you,” she went on. “The truth is that I need your help. And it is absolutely vital for us that you come over for an interview.”
As if pulled by an invisible string, you jolted forward, your eyes rapidly opening and closing. "Hold on, Ella. What do you mean?"
“Oh, right. I should explain.”
You were met with a sound resembling sandpaper rubbing on flesh, followed by a loud cough as she cleared her throat. Ella had a nervous habit of scratching when anxious - a trait that, based on what you could hear over the phone, seemed to have persisted over the years.
"A few days ago, you reached out to our company, Corbyn&Jones. My husband is the CEO, and I'm afraid he was a bit hasty when he sent you that email."
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, and your body immediately shifted into an upright position on the couch. “Oliver Corbyn is your husband?”
Ella gave out a subtle chuckle. “Indeed. And we found ourselves in an awful situation, to put it mildly.”
Your hands began to shake and perspire as you gripped your phone tighter. “He said you didn’t have any vacant spot.”
"Yes, that was the case before our former designer decided to buy a one-way ticket to the US," she replied. “You can imagine my surprise when I saw your name there.”
You inhaled sharply, proceeding to remove a handful of strands from your face.
“Y/N, I’ll just be blunt. The interview would be a formal way to introduce you to the team. I absolutely want you on board either way, and Oliver agreed.”
You nearly dropped your phone, grasping it with both hands to secure it. "Ella, this is wonderful news, but we haven't seen each other in years. You don't need to put in a good word for me."
The scratchy sound intensified.
"I've always considered you my friend, Y/N. And your work… it's absolutely outstanding. You know I've always loved your creations, but your portfolio now? We would be absolute fools to let someone with your talent slip through our fingers*."*
Her recognition of both your professional capabilities and enduring friendship, even after years of separation, was profoundly meaningful.
"Take your time to think it over, no rush. Why don't you stop by to show me more of your drawings? You can explore the office, learn about our work and job requirements. We'll have tea, catch up properly, reconnect. Wouldn't that be lovely?"
The prospect of reuniting with a cherished friend was compelling. Additionally, you sought to immerse yourself in the fashion industry to validate your career trajectory and professional aspirations.
Declining such a promising opportunity would have been detrimental to your growth. The time had come to embrace your light and set it free, fully showcasig your talent the way it deserved to shine.
"I’d love that, honestly. Would tomorrow work for you?"
The joyful shriek she emitted in response to your acceptance was as deafening as it was heartwarming. Based on the intense drumming of her heels against the floor, one could easily tell that she was kicking her feet enthusiastically as a manifestation of her growing delight.
"Absolutely! Oh my goodness, I wish I could drag you here right this minute!"
You laughed, sinking back against the couch. "Thank you, Ella."
"No, thank you!"
When the call finished, you couldn't help but smile in disbelief, your pulse quickening with anticipation. Though the path ahead was yet to be defined, it held promise of exciting new possibilities, personal enrichment, and professional transformation.
Finally. It had been an excruciatingly long ride.
Ella Jones Corbyn.  The name Corbyn, derived from its French and English variant “Corbin”, carries historical associations with darkness and mystery. Notably, its etymological meaning translates to "Raven".
Having observed numerous patterns in life, you had come to view apparent coincidences as interconnected events shaped by multiple underlying factors rather than mere chance occurrences.
For this, you sensed, was far more than a mere stroke of luck.
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You were traversing a lengthy, dimly lit passageway, its light sources emitting an aura akin to that of a complex maze, as you found yourself lost in its obscure, labyrinthine atmosphere. Despite your lack of knowledge with regards to your exact whereabouts, you felt a strong urge to continue advancing within the corridor in a quest to uncover what awaited you at its terminus.
You felt a faint hint of recognition within the setting, as the surroundings reminded you of a place that you had most certainly seen before. You continued walking along your path, and a long set of stairs materialized in front of you. Wet tiles seemed to lock into place like a jigsaw, allowing you to go downward.
You descended further and further, until finally landing on a flat surface. The area was completely dominated by a deep blackness, with the exception of the candles that were attached to the walls, casting a soft glow over the space with their flickering flames.
A chill ran down your spine as you hugged yourself, inhaling deeply. You proceeded cautiously, taking deliberate steps that felt as ponderous as a mountain's burden. When you moved onward, an intensely brilliant radiance suddenly erupted ahead of you, as if someone had turned the switch of a spotlight on. You narrowed your eyes in an effort to adapt to its brightness, only to notice an elusive form gaining clarity at the very center of the beam.
A moment later, your heart skipped a beat, causing a stinging sensation inside you. Morpheus was there, seated inside a glass sphere on the platform of the familiar basement, completely bare and afflicted. Spent. Hurt.
"No," you breathed out, your voice cracking with distress and anguish. "Not again, please."
You attempted to hasten toward him, but your legs failed to move. As you uttered his name again and again, he didn't raise his gaze to you. It was as if you weren't even there.
Invisible. Insignificant. Powerless.
You were frightened, striving to capture his attention, desperately trying to let him know that he was not alone. However, the instant you managed to inch forward, you felt the clutches of a firm hold on both of your arms, coming from someone who immediately yanked you away.
You cast your eyes upward, discerning two guards stationed on either side of you, although their faces were somewhat distorted, glitchy and unsetting. As you tried to break free, your body refused to obey your commands to shake them off.
You screamed as loudly as you could, imploring Morpheus and panting, as if a mysterious, impervious compulsion beyond your comprehension forced you to remain completely still.
“Y/N.”
And then, you heard his calm and deep voice reaching your ears, even though the creature in the sphere remained unmoved, silent, and displaying little reaction save for blinking.
“Morpheus…?” you echoed to clarify, a glimmer of hope rekindling in your heart.
"I am here."
Scanning the area beyond the now-motionless guards, you observed the King of Dreams standing regally behind them. With a graceful gesture of his right hand, he caused the two figures to dissolve into streams of sand, simultaneously restoring your freedom of movement.
Upon returning your sight to the sphere, you discovered it to be completely empty, with the glass slowly melting down and vanishing like smoke.
Coming back to awareness, you rose from the floor and met Morpheus' eyes. One look at his face told you everything you needed to know about what had happened, the tension draining from your nerves. "Is this...?”
"You are dreaming," he stated. "The nightmare has been banished."
Your first nightmare, accompanied by an exceptional level of uncanniness and fear, despite its strange elements and details.
As if to satisfy your qualms regarding his corporeal reality, you gently brushed his covered wrist, perceiving the fabric of his sleeves as well as the coolness of his fingers when your skin encountered his hand. “This is really you, right?” You asked him.
He held you gently, studying your anxious expression as you shook off the lingering traces of your dream. “Yes,” he replied, assuaging your apprehension.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself on your tiptoes and pressing your body against him. You swaddled him in a constrained, trembling embrace, feeling the warmth of his lips against your shoulder. “I was so scared.”
He silently secured his hands on your lower back, moving his thumbs up and down in a soothing gesture. When you moved apart, you took hold of his fingers once more, looking at him with relief and urgency.
Your previous nightmarish setting gave way to a much more pleasant scenery, one that you had already come to know and appreciate. The soft humming of the waves immediately began to subdue your agitated senses, and gazing at the sky, the crystalline sky mirrored the ocean's surface with remarkable clarity.
The strength of your grasp around Morpheus' digits intensified when you felt him extricating his hand from your grip. His surprised stare exuded boundless power, permeating your very essence.
"I'm sorry you had to witness that," you said, your eyes brimming with tears. "I never meant for you to see it."
As you spoke your thoughts aloud, his eyes softened. With his gentle touch on your cheek, he allowed you to inch closer to his palm, inviting you into a loving caress.
"These nightmares reflect only what mortals fear most deeply. Tell me, do thoughts of my imprisonment still haunt you?"
You remained quiet, your response being reduced to a simple nod.
You did not perceive the deep impact your empathy had on him. Dream averted his eyes toward the horizon, his expression growing solemn. As he withdrew his hand, an unsettling sense of foreboding filled the air.
You could sense the presence of something that was inherently flawed and discordant. “Morpheus?”
His expression had transitioned into something else. It now depicted sorrow, as if he were about to deliver the worst news of your life.
“What’s wrong?” You probed farther, puzzled and confused.
A sudden gust of air startled you, encircling you in what felt like a violent blast. And then, his voice was heard again.
“We must talk.”
While your ears picked up the words, your mind interpreted them in a myriad of ways, yet only one conclusion was plausible in your inner thoughts. A mental explosion was triggered, and you envisioned the whole world around you breaking into pieces.
You are suffocating me, I’m tired of you.”
"This isn't leading anywhere—we should end it."
The recollections of your past breakups echoed in your head, reviving the pain that you had been unable to eradicate from your heart.
Although you were in the realm of your subconscious, you could feel the blood departing from your face, your soul being drained of its life-force.
And so, you gathered all your strength to brace yourself and speak. “Okay.”
Your inner voice provided reassurance, yet it was drowned out by conflicting emotions; an internal dialogue where anxiety warned of impending abandonment while reason argued for trust in Morpheus' continued presence by your side. 
"We of the Endless are bound by ancient laws," Morpheus expressed. "I have, regrettably, violated one of these rules."
On top of your rising heart rate, the atmosphere also underwent a drastic change. The clear and vibrant blue in the sky was replaced by a washed-out and monotonous gray.
You summoned all the courage necessary to form your question. “Which rule have you broken?”
The answer struck you like a thunderbolt. 
"A union between an Endless such as I and a mortal... it cannot be. It is prohibited."
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He turned to meet your gaze, his penetrating stare reaching the depths of your being. As his revelation reverberated in your ears, you came to the full realization that your bond with the King of Dreams was a colossal blunder from the beginning, a bond that you had nourished and cherished for so long, nothing but a mistake he was evidently ready to conclude.
The prospect of experiencing another heartbreak seemed unbearable, an emotional burden too weighty to contemplate.
"Oh." Your legs began to tremble as you backed away. "Wake me up."
“Y/N—”
"Please, I can't do this. If you're going to leave me, at least let me keep some dignity. Just this once."
As you continued to retreat and your nervousness grew, Morpheus was visibly baffled, taking note of the sheer impact of his declaration on your body and heart.
He swiftly raised his hand to stop you. “Wait, you misunderstand me,” he proclaimed.
"You're not breaking up with me?"
A daring question, you realized, given that the precise status of your relationship was undefined. You panicked briefly, concerned he might refute any notion of commitment between you.
A small glimpse of reassurance shone through his solemn facade. "Please. Allow me to explain," he intoned.
His answer prompted a moment of clarity, allowing you to reevaluate your initial assumptions.
"All right. I'll listen."
Morpheus paused contemplatively, his eyes moving downward as he carefully considered his next words.
"You mortals are not unfamiliar to me. There was...another one before you."
"You were in a relationship with a human before?"
"Ten thousand years ago, I met the queen of the City of Glass, the place where mankind was first born. Her name was Nada.”
Your cognitive processing was suddenly derailed at the unexpected phrase "ten thousand years ago”. His immense age, spanning countless millennia, was a fact that occasionally eluded your consideration.
"We fell in love. Yet through our union, she was destined for a fate most tragic."
You swallowed a mouthful of air. “What happened?”
With profound gravity, the King of Dreams proceeded to detail the devastating ramifications of his romantic entanglement with Nada. "Her city was razed. Consumed entirely by the burning fires of the sun."
A gasp filled with shock and disbelief escaped from you as you covered your mouth.
"Her guilt consumed her entirely. She wished to leave... to remove herself from my presence," he proclaimed, his tone filled with melancholy. "I could not let her go."
A distant rumble of thunder was heard from above, its loud boom breaking the silence and adding to the atmosphere of a looming tragedy.
“My infatuation for her was my punishment,” he stated. "In my pride and arrogance, I refused to let her leave. I imprisoned her with my will until, in her despair, she took her own life by throwing herself from the highest mountaintop. I watched, helpless, as she fell to her death."
As Morpheus painted an all-too-clear picture of Nada’s heartbreaking demise, you could feel his pain as if it were your own. The vivid description evoked great distress, causing an overwhelming sense of pain to permeate your consciousness.
“It’s horrible.”
His darkened, tormented eyes, reflected the suffering he had been through for millennia. The burden still remained, igniting the grief he held after losing a love that was never meant to be.
"The mere notion of rejection was... offensive to me. I tracked her spirit to the Sunless Lands and presented her with what I believed to be an irrefusable offer."
You tensed. “What kind of offer?”
“I wished to make her my Queen, Goddess of the Dreaming.”
Knowing that you were not the first object of Morpheus' affection wounded you more than you wanted to admit to yourself, a jolt of jealousy rising inside you as you listened to him speaking of another woman in such a warm-hearted and caring tone. However, you quickly dismissed the sudden surge of envy that overcame you, acknowledging the futility of harboring resentment towards someone who had long since passed.
You cleared your throat. “And?”
"When she refused my offer once more, I sentenced her to damnation. In Hell."
“You sent her soul… to hell…?”
Observing Morpheus' eyes intently, you detected a lingering anger beneath their subdued glow. It reminded you of Teleute's earlier warnings about his historical nature, aspects of his character that were still unknown to you.
Nevertheless, you were drawn to an innate sense of optimism that allowed you to perceive hope even in the darkest depths.
"Isn't it said that those who take their own lives are destined for Hell anyway?"
He stood unmoving, a weighted silence falling between you.
"She ended her life, yes… but it was I who sealed her fate. I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her to regret choosing death over me."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
Your expression and emotion were both subjects of his scrutiny, which he was using to gauge how you were perceiving the choices he had made.
"I shall not repeat my former transgressions," he replied.
"So I'm nothing more than a transgression to you? Just another mistake?"
The frequency of thunderclaps dramatically escalated, while gusts of wind increased in force.
"No, I am. To keep you at my side would defy the natural order of things. The risks... they are far too great.”
You could not identify a single instance where his presence had made you feel threatened or endangered. On the contrary, being in his company consistently provided you with a strong sense of safety and protection.
"The choice shall be yours to make, to decide what path serves you best."
“Why?”
"Because I do not wish to hurt you.”
The grimace distorting his facial traits felt akin to a gut punch. Reflecting on his revelation, you understood why he had dispatched his raven to the Waking World; a precautionary measure whose purpose had been a mystery until this moment.
"So that's why you sent Matthew. You were worried that something bad could happen to me."
“Yes.”
Warmth and joy replaced your negative emotions, swelling into your chest and compassing your beating heart with tranquillity. You reached forward, placing your palm on his chest and offering him a gentle smile. "Morpheus, I don't need to choose. I am exactly where I want to be, and nothing will change that."
Your statement caused the Endless to look dazed and bewildered once more. He was stunned, appearing as someone who had anticipated a different end result. "Have you not listened to what I have done?” He queried.
“No no, I did. You were perfectly clear.”
“Then… why?”
You sighed. "I'll be honest with you. Your reaction to Nada was far too extreme, and sending her to hell as revenge for her rejection was both petty and undeniably wrong."
He lowered his eyes downward, attentively listening to you like a scolded pup.
"But I can understand why you did it. You didn't make that decision out of evil, you made it because you were heartbroken."
While others might view such past behavior as extremely toxic, you recognized that Morpheus, regardless of his divine nature, was on a continual journey of learning and understanding.
He tensed up, yearning for your closeness as you kept moving your hands along his chest and shoulders.
"I can see how deeply this weighs on you, even after all this time. You're always watching, always evolving. I know that if you could go back to that day, you would handle everything differently."
He closed his eyes. “You are not safe with me.”
“Yes, I am.”
"You should fear me. Dread me."
“And why is that?”
“They all do.”
"They're all wrong."
“As I have told you, I am far more terrible than you believe me to be.”
“Yes, well. Let me be the judge of that.”
A moment of calm ensued between the two of you. Morpheus' gaze was stern and forceful, though his inscrutable visage gradually waned, and an impish grin took form on his lips. You mimicked him, smiling broadly and trading a glimpse of mutual understanding.
"You are rather persistent," he stated.
Giggling, you leaned your forehead against his as the wind quieted down and the sky reopened, bringing back its clarity and vivid colors.
"I don't see how anything bad could happen to me, as it's been quite the opposite," you said. "Morpheus, when my father was dying, my life became so miserable that I gave up everything. I had nothing left. I hid from the world, working mechanically just to earn money. But then you entered my life, and for the first time, everything began changing for the better."
His eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your footing before their magnificence.
So beautiful…
"And today I received a call from an old friend. She's offering me a job, the one I've always wanted. Right now, all I can see ahead is pure greatness."
He contemplated silently, his gaze shifting thoughtfully as he considered your statement.
"If being with you truly means I'm destined for tragedy and misfortune, why do I feel so blessed?"
His gaze lingered on the far-off scenery, eyebrows knitted together. You patiently waited, listening to the now calmer waves in your vicinity.
"Perhaps there is a reasonable explanation for that," he finally said. "I had Lucienne investigate your lineage."
"My lineage? As far as I know, there's nothing significant in my family history."
"On the contrary," he replied with both gravity and warmth. "It appears that you have an interesting bloodline, one that leads directly to Paregoros."
You endeavored to fathom it, but it was a name you had neither heard of nor read about anywhere.
"Pardon my ignorance, but who might that be?"
“She is the personified spirit of consolation, comfort and soothing words. A companion of Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Peitho, the Goddess of persuasion.”
Despite the many books about Greek mythology you had come across, you couldn’t recollect any significant information regarding this particular figure.
"And I'm related to her? What exactly does that mean for me?"
"You are mortal. Yet, something within you bears her essence. Perhaps... this will shield you from the cruel destiny that befalls any human who dares draw close to me."
People had conveyed to you that your magnanimity would become your undoing, as being empathetic was inevitably overlooked as a virtue and instead perceived as something to exploit. Could it be that your goodness truly derived from an ancient deity you descended from? Did your compassion and kindness towards Morpheus make you immune to the unjust and absurd godly rule that once condemned the one he loved?
Regardless of your background or how you happened to be related to Paregoros, being with Morpheus was the best thing you could ever hope for yourself.
"Whatever may come, I have made my choice."
Morpheus paused, his words dying on his lips as his hands dropped to his sides.
“I’ll be fine.”
"Y/N, even I cannot be certain that this is more than mere conjecture."
You grasped the edges of his coat and inched yourself closer, brushing your mouth against his. Despite his concerns, Morpheus didn’t display any reluctance, reciprocating the kiss and relaxing in your embrace.
“When my intuition speaks, it is seldom incorrect,” you whispered. "Though I may be mortal, will you trust me in this?"
He acknowledged the futility of further debate, yielding to your unwavering resolve without protest. Instead, he declared his assertion with another soft kiss on your lips, savoring their sweetness as his breath caressed your skin.
Finally, Morpheus relinquished the conversation.
"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Dream. You have no idea how deeply you affect me."
Another smile sprang up on the corner of his lips. “And how do you behold me, my love?”
You pondered how best to express it, and the sole thing that came to your mind was something overwhelmingly inappropriate. Nevertheless, you were still within The Dreaming, standing with Morpheus in a domain that was merely for you and nobody else to access. Was it truly that heinous for you to show him your affection in the way that you had envisioned?
The more you contemplated it, the more certain you became. While this particular act of intimacy had never held special significance with previous partners, your feelings for Morpheus elevated it to something meaningful and so much more valuable.
And thus, you provided permission for yourself to proceed.
As the heat rose and crawled up your cheeks, you let your hands glide over his torso while following them all the way down, slowly kneeling upon the sand with your knees.
"What are you doing?" he asked, tracking your movements with a slight raise of his eyebrow.
“I am kneeling for my King,” you answered. "I want to show you what you truly mean to me."
A part of you still felt uncertain, but when you caught the familiar sparkle in his eyes, you no longer needed to question yourself.
The sand was incredibly soft and comfortable, providing you with its delicate and glittering particles. You placed your palms on his stomach and held them there for a moment, sliding them up and down while lifting his shirt. As his pallid skin emerged from under the black material, you took note once again of his lean yet clearly defined muscles.
You moved slowly, placing gentle and delicate kisses on his abdomen, making your way towards his navel. He trembled beneath your touch but remained still, fully welcoming your advances.
Glancing up occasionally, you noticed his complete absorption in the moment, his quickened breathing and intense focus fixed entirely on you. You continued these tender gestures until ready to progress further, moving your hands to his thighs and offering soothing caresses through his trousers.
You relished his silence, moving your fingers in a repetitive motion as the ambient sounds generated by the dream world created a mesmerizing symphony. Everything felt so vivid that for a moment, you questioned whether you were actually asleep.
You dragged your hands around in a circular motion, and the unmistakable bulge in the front of his pants indicated his growing arousal. Your fingers quivered slightly as you loosened the button and pushed the zipper down, time slowing to a crawl as nothing remained between you and your ultimate destination.
Tentatively, you searched beneath his clothes with the most tender care, feeling the tips of your fingers graze his forming erection. Taking a deep breath, slowly and gently, you released the appendage from its confinement, setting it free in the open air. Morpheus grunted inaudibly, holding his ground and repeatedly clenching his fists.
You looked upon his hardeness, already standing proudly in front of you and beckoning for your attention. You sought his permission with one final glance up, and he responded with a confident nod of approval, seductive and inviting.
You wrapped your hand around the base, gliding it up until the crown was fully covered and engulfed in your palm. You repeated the motion, slowly and firmly in reverse, enstablishing a steady pumping rhythm before picking up the pace.
Your eyes flickered, and you spotted his pink, parted lips, along with a pair of cerulean eyes that shimmered like stars in broad daylight. Even though he remained in complete silence, his unspoken request was loud and clear: "Give me more."
You inhaled deeply, setting your dominant hand around his length and bringing your lips closer to his glistening tip. You let your tongue explore its surface, dancing around the glans and tracing a wet path down to the taut underside. You felt it throb and pulse as you held it firmly between your fingers, urging you to continue. You wanted to grant him the apex of whatever you were capable of giving, knowing that it would never be enough to repay him for what he was bestowing upon you.
Every kiss, every sensual swipe of your tongue, and every stroke that you were delivering was purely for his physical satisfaction. Meanwhile, his presence was giving you a lasting sense of fulfillment that accompanied you throughout each day, persisting even in moments of separation.
Once satisfied with the preliminaries, you finally closed your lips around the head and adjusted your position. You placed your other hand over his stomach, making sure that the shirt wouldn't get in the way, as you persisted with the caressing motions all over his length while tenderly suckling at the top with sweet abandon.
You could feel his fingers intertwining with the back of your hair, his nails scratching your nape deliciously. Although you could tell that he was starting to feel impatient, Morpheus refrained from drawing you closer or thrusting his hips forward. He enticed you, encouraging you to proceed without any forceful request.
And so you did, lowering your head and taking more of him into your mouth. You relaxed your palate and throat to invite his girth as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks whenever you slid up, only to descend again. His grip around your hair tightened considerably, but instead of pulling it with rough movements, he followed your head with enthusiasm and appreciation.
Breathing through your nose, you hummed softly around him. Your palm massaged the part that you couldn't reach, causing his legs to quiver and become rigid. His abdominal muscles tightened under your ministrations, twitching whenever you drew little circles upon them with your fingertips and nails. You suckled harder, allowing his tip to touch the back of your throat and pulling your knees closer to his body for a better angle.
The occasional eye contact, along with the way he contained himself throughout the process, was making you absolutely feral. Yet, at the same time, it was so unbelievably tender that you wished you could carry on the activity for many hours to come. No other man had demonstrated such decency towards you.
Though, in the end, he was far more than any mortal man.
The magnificent landscape surrounding you combined with the tranquil music played by the ocean, made even such an erotic scene appear as something wonderfully romantic. Morpheus' groans were low and deep, almost fully concealed by the waves running back and forth along the shore. His length tensed up and pulsed, signaling that he was finally approaching his awaited release.
Feeling your lips aching from the exertion, you pulled yourself away, lingering on his tip once more with gentle kitten licks and loving pecks. As you let your tongue explore other areas, you noticed how increasingly sensitive he seemed to be the moment you stimulated his frenulum, adorning it with love and consideration with each fiery kiss you granted the King of Dreams, with divine reverence.
You were savoring every second of it in a way that you couldn’t adequately describe.
“You are going to be my undoing,” he murmured. "You look absolutely ravishing like this."
With a seductive smirk, you took him back in, carefully increasing the pace and applying more pressure to your cheeks. Morpheus was about to tumble over the edge, muttering your name and receiving an affirmative hum from you in response. You were relentless, moving your hands in perfect sync with your mouth, letting him shake and stiffen without withdrawing.
The earth below roared and quavered when his orgasm made its way from within him and through his entire being. His hips jerked a few times as he struggled to keep himself upright, his feet remaining perfectly planted on the ground. You bobbed your head up and down rhythmically, feeling every single aftershock that forced him to throw his head back in utter ecstasy. You wanted to take all he had to give, to let him see beyond the stars of his realm, the universe, and the void itself.
You wanted him to feel you and you alone, as if you were the only energy source he would ever need.
You could barely let him go with a sweet wet pop and adjust his trousers, as he immediately reached down to take your arms and effortlessly lift you up. His mouth was on yours before you could properly stand, devouring your lips and pressing you to his chest. Without hesitation, engulfing his neck between your arms and losing yourself in the kiss.
As soon as you caught your breath, you inquired, "Was I too forward?"
Morpheus was amused, unable to contain his mischief and satisfaction. "I must confess, I find this side of you... intriguing."
You chuckled, capturing his fingers with your own, his remark causing a tinge of blush to bloom and boost your self-confidence to the highest.
Like a passing dream, the serious conversation faded away as the two of you resumed your walk along the coastline, moving in tranquil quiet with him, and staring at the moist grains of sand that dissolved below your feet. Your shoes had been discarded at some point, and your attire had transformed from casual jeans and sweater into an elegant bohemian dress of unfamiliar origin. It occurred instantaneously and imperceptibly, as mysteriously as dreams themselves.
The tide was steadily rising, the cool waves lapping at your ankles and saturating the hem of your garments. Morpheus didn’t seem to mind, guiding you forth with serene acceptance.
"There's something I meant to ask you," you said, wading deeper into the ocean, drawn to its crystal-clear surface.
"Tell me, what knowledge do you seek?"
"It's about my father. Or rather, his unusually fast recovery. Does it have anything to do with you?"
Though your hand loosened from his grip as you ventured deeper into the water, he maintained the connection with a gentle caress of his thumb across your knuckles.
"I have not cured him," he replied. "But the presence of an Endless can influence a mortal's vitality and longevity. Perhaps... your connection to me has extended this effect to him as well."
"Really? Even though he's never met you?"
"It is within the realm of possibility," he confirmed. "You are mortal, yes. But you are different from any human I have ever encountered."
"Because of my bloodline?"
"And because of who you are. Your spirit is unique, Y/N."
Dr. Mills' prescribed medication typically required an extended period to demonstrate its therapeutic effects. Yet, within just three days of treatment, your father experienced a dramatic improvement in energy and strength, much to everyone's amazement. During this period, you had been frequently spending time with Morpheus in the basement, and this correlation raised the likelihood that his supernatural presence might have inadvertently accelerated your father's recovery process, potentially enhancing the medication's effectiveness beyond its normal parameters, through your very soul.
The complexities and intricacies of mystical phenomena and supernatural entities remained largely unexplored territory. Could your strong bond with your father have allowed him to benefit from the Endless just as you did, manifesting in different ways?
You weren't exaggerating in the slightest when you asserted that Morpheus was bringing nothing but good fortune into your life.
You smiled, allowing the seawater to reach your waist. As you took a backward step, you descended deeper into the ocean. The water was cool and refreshing, reminiscent of the ocean waters in the physical realm.
Morpheus stood on the seashore, his polished shoes and the edges of his pants absorbing the waves. He looked at you curiously, observing the way your wet dress adhered to your figure.
"Come on," you urged him. "Won't you join me?"
He released a quiet chuckle, moving forward with a couple of short strides. His lengthy coat fluttered on the surface of the water, following his movements and widening like a voluminous cape. With your dampened hands, you tenderly touched his face, leaving a delicate pattern of water droplets across his features. You shared a brief, gentle kiss as his arms encircled your form, guiding you deeper into the water.
You slowly plunged into the depths of the sea, as the two of you descended deeper into its aquatic domain. You could breathe normally, taking in the stunning view of vibrant corals and mysterious sea creatures gliding close by. His hair wafted in unison with yours, His coat lengthening along with your dress, both garments expanding in a swirl of fabric.
The underwater sounds were faint and muffled, creating a magical atmosphere that transformed this moment into something akin to a living fairytale.
Your eyelids grew more and more weary, and you felt a brilliant light enveloping you from below. Morpheus brushed your hair away from your neck, leaning closer to your ear as a slew of bubbles emerged from his mouth, tickling your face and fluctuating above you.
His voice reverberated through your brain, echoing and rattling the seaweed, which cleared a path for both of you to advance.
“This dream is over.”
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Prior to meeting Ella at Corbyn&Jones, you selected your most businesslike outfit and crafted the best resume you were capable of writing. Even though she wasn't obliged to peruse through your former employment backgrounds, you wanted to present a formal image to the CEO and other members of the company.
You responded to Hob's message of encouragement and well-wishes regarding your upcoming interview, tapping quickly on your screen as you headed toward the underground station.
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You boarded the subterranean railway for a few stops before leaving it and continuing on foot. The weather was once again more agreeable than you could hope for, with a sun that wasn't too scorching for the time of year and a soft breeze that gently brushed against your body on your march.
You navigated several avenues, traversing the park's pathways and walking beneath the canopy of trees. Upon sighting the building in the distance, you efficiently retrieved your phone and initiated a new conversation with Ella. Your pulse quickened with a mixture of professional anticipation and the natural nervousness that accompanies such important meetings after such a long time apart.
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You halted mid-typing as an abrupt change overtook your surroundings. The sky darkened precipitously, while dense fog enveloped the vegetation, obscuring it from view. The environment altered dramatically, as though you had been transported to an entirely different location. The air grew thick and oppressive, and through the haze, you distinctly heard voices calling your name. 
Three female voices resonated through the air, emanating from every direction. To verify your consciousness, you performed a reality check by counting your fingers and pinching your cheek, verifying this wasn't another dream and that you had actually left your house. As you turned around, searching, your breath accelerated and you took a cautious step backward. 
When pivoting on your feet again, you found yourself confronted by three women of different ages, each dressed in dark attire, their hair flowing in the increasingly cold wind. Their penetrating gazes met yours with an unsettling intensity, their expressions bearing the faintest suggestion of smiles that filled you with an immediate sense of foreboding.
"Who are you?" You inquired, darting your eyes from one woman to another.
“Questions, questions,” spoke the one in the middle.
“We are the Fates, dear," replied the younger lady.
"Or 'The Kindly Ones,' as we are also known," stated the eldest of the three.
Your eyes narrowed as your knowledge of literature surfaced in your mind. “The Fates…. you mean the Hecate?”
"Indeed we are, little one."
"What is it you want from me?" Your voice echoed powerfully through the space, as if you were speaking into a vast, empty chamber.
The younger woman approached. She was incredibly beautiful, yet something in her bearing seemed tremendously suspicious. "Poor Y/N," she said with a lilting, almost musical tone. "Still so new to this world of dreams and darkness. So naive and lost, so unaware of what lies ahead." 
"I'm not naive, and I'm certainly not lost."
“Yes you are, my child,” the middle woman spoke again, taking a step forward. “We came to warn you, dear.”
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Your impatience grew as you focused on arriving at the firm on time. "Look, no offense, kind ladies, but I have business to attend to right now."
“Oh, but you shall want to listen,” the elder woman interjected. “It is Lord Morpheus that you must exercise caution with.”
A chill ran through your veins. “Morpheus…?”
They smiled in unison, and there was something deeply unsettling about it.
"Once a father and a husband, all was lost due to his own deeds."
A shudder traversed your spine as soon as you heard that statement.
A father…. and a husband…
The younger lady inclined her head. "My darling, how many truths does Dream keep hidden from you?"
Their motives were unknown, though their evident animosity towards Morpheus was unmistakable.
"With all due respect, whatever he chooses to share or keep private is not your concern," you said firmly.
“Foolish child,” the eldest woman's voice thundered, releasing a surge of energy that made you stagger backward. “Trust has a flimsy string.”
Your confusion deepened. "What exactly are you trying to tell me? I don't have time for your riddles."
The youngest one spoke again. "Calliope was deprived of her dear offspring because of him. A tale of unspeakable tragedy."
He was married to Calliope, the Muse and daughter of Zeus?
“The boy-child, Orpheus, went to Hades for his lady-love,” said the middle Fate. “He was torn apart for his sacrilege.”
Contemplating the ancient Greek legend of the renowned musician and poet, documented across numerous literary works, you found it difficult to ascertain Morpheus' culpability in these events, assuming the historical accounts held any veracity.
"Morpheus keeping secrets about his past isn't reason enough for me to lose faith in him."
"Dream will deceive you, Y/N. After all, he once betrayed his own son and former wife."
You pressed your lips together, sensing a rising uneasiness rushing up from your stomach and permeating your shaking form. "You don't even know me. Why are you so concerned about my relationship with Dream?"
The middle Fate's lips curved into a broad smile. "Oh, we do know you, love. For you are the daughter of your mother."
“My…mother…? What—”
"She does not know yet, Sister-self."
The cryptic proclamations of the three women grew increasingly disconcerting. They addressed you with a disquieting omniscience, as though they possessed intimate knowledge of both your destiny and your very essence.
Before you could articulate your response, the sharp sound of a bicycle bell interrupted your thoughts. As the cyclist passed swiftly by, you turned back to where the three women had stood, only to find the space entirely vacant.
The gloomy atmosphere dissipated instantly, returning the environment to its natural state. As soon as you checked your device, still gripped firmly in your hand, you found the unfinished message exactly as you had left it, with the timestamp completely unchanged. Your encounter with the Fates appeared to have transpired in an alternate plane of existence, or perhaps they had manipulated time itself during your entire interaction.
"What in the blazing hell was that?"
Despite the lingering questions and uncertainties forming in your mind, you decided to regain your professional focus. This upcoming meeting represented a significant career opportunity that demanded your full attention and punctuality, one you weren't willing to jeopardize over an encounter with an ancient Greek deity split into three forms—an apparition that defied logical explanation.
You hastily completed and sent your message before continuing toward the building, though the unsettling interaction left a nagging sense of unease lingering n your thoughts.
Dream of the Endless was previously wed to Calliope, one of the nine Muses, with whom he fathered a child. Tragically, their relationship ended in separation, and their son met an untimely fate, a horrifying end that would shatter any parent's heart.
You entered the elevator with a pervasive pressure in your chest that persisted through your attempts to dismiss it, the disquiet reaching deep into your being.
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Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 10 ->
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shyminmin · 2 years ago
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༄𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐗 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Fantasy, Mermaid AU | ༄𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.3k ༄𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Slight conflict/confrontation
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There was a golden blur and the sound of a tail cutting through water at an astounding rate. The next thing Jungkook knew, he was seized from behind, the nape of his neck bearing the weight and grip of his lieutenant's hand. Nerves coming to life, they in turn cause tiny shockwaves to encompass him.
"Move."
The word came out eerily calm, however the stunned Kook knew that it was anything but. The simple syllable being riddled with obvious venom and incomprehensible anger.
Nudging him forward while keeping his hold on the young merman's neck, both of them manoeuvred through the blueish depths, not another word spoken. Every now and again Hoseok would indicate to him to either veer left or right by firmly yanking on his nape in said direction.
This is it. Jungkook thought.
Hobs has finally lost it...
I'm gonna be turned into fish bait!
Grimacing, he continued to think the worst as they neared the outskirts of the colony. They passed one or two stone towers along the way, moss and algae climbing up their rocky sides where they in turn were trimmed to create intricate, decorative patterns. Beyond them, silhouettes of mer could be seen gliding between the natural structures, most likely heading towards their respective home dwellings for the evening.
Jungkook shakily exhaled, as he looked in the direction of his own home, which was non-visible from his current position.
His mother would be expecting him very soon, no doubt just starting on dinner. Oh how she would react if he was even the slightest bit late... He cringed just thinking about it, she'd lose it for sure! One of these days he feared that her heart would give out from all the excess amount of stress and unneeded worry she constantly put upon herself. He prayed for Poseidon's sake that she would stop thinking that the world was out to get them and instead be more carefree and relaxed.
Though, he knew that wishful thinking.
She wasn't fooling anyone when she hid those emotions behind a mask of a smile. Her movements always just that bit too stiff and her breathing noticeably shallow and forced. Sometimes he would wake up to her crying, her unsettling whimpers and shrieks echoing around their home while he could do nothing but hopelessly listen. Trying to comfort her would just earn him a response of 'go away', 'go back to sleep' or 'don't worry about me'.
Yeah...Her experiencing genuine happiness...Wishful thinking indeed...
A few more rocks and a curious onlooker of a fish later, his surroundings spontaneously darkened as he felt the pressure on his neck get released. His face met the ocean floor from the result of Hoseok shoving him into a tight crevice in the side of a mountain slope.
After taking a deep breath as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he cautiously pushed off of the hard ground, righting himself to face the daunting topaz scales of his companion. The Lieutenant in question hovered in the entrance, effectively blocking the merman's chance to escape.
Oh gods.. he was done for...
Not daring to look his superior in the face in utter fear of what he may find, Kook proceeded to wait in painful silence, focusing his gaze instead on a lone seashell embedded in the mostly barren sea floor. Oh how he wished he could just disappear and dissolve into seafoam right about now, anything to get away from an enraged Hoseok.
Said merman's voice ruptured through the waters once more, causing Jungkook's fins to stand on edge.
"Look at me."
Completely under the male's control at this point, Kook's head had no choice but to snap up, him gulping as he came into contact with Hoseok's eyes.
He flinched.
Oh holy mother of Circe.
Gone was the light behind them, the golden flecks of amber replaced by a dark, raging storm devoid of any warmth or comfort.
No, this was the sight of someone dangerous.
They remained like this, in a silent stare-off, just waiting for the other to react in some way. Either Jungkook out of obvious fear or for Hoseok to finally break and send poor Kook over to writhe forever in ‘The Shallows.’
"Give me one good reason... one very very good reason why I shouldn't renounce you of your position this very instant?"
Silence swallowing up the tight space, tension climbing and thickening as the words evaporated.
The younger's heart dropped to his stomach as he blinked a couple of times.
No...Oh please no!
If he was no longer deemed a soldier then it was goodbye to the little freedom that he had fought tooth and nail for all this time. He gazed into the hardened eyes of Hoseok imploringly.
"No! Y-you can't- Anything but that! Please... don't do this to me! Come on Hobs.."
"Answer the damn question Jung–kook."
The way he addressed him stung. Hoseok practically never called him by his full name and the fact that he said it with such spite and lack of remorse did nothing to alleviate the jab of pain in his chest.
"I'm still waiting for an answer."
"I..I uh...I-I can do..." He stalled, blinking back a few angry tears. "Urgh – Please! I need this role! You know more than anyone how much this means to me! If not for the good of the tribe then for my own bloody sanity!"
The last of his pleads bounced off the cavernous walls, seeming to mock him of his current state.
"Sanity huh?.." Hoseok conferred, crossing his arms, continuing to eye the boy with contempt.
"If that's the case, then what about the state of my own sanity whenever I hear about another one of your foolish escapades, hm? What's to stop you from going against the rules once more? Or the time after that?" He moved forward a fraction, tail flicking behind him as he gazed down on Kook with intimidation. "Convince me why it would be worth my while to keep you in the guard, for you to finally be disciplined enough to abide by your duties without me thinking otherwise."
"I..."
Jungkook paused, pondering.
The wise decision in this instance would be to go along with his superior's wishes, to just tell him the answer he wanted to hear and get a measly slap on the wrist. Then he could hopefully go on as normal and continue to venture out in secret.
But he realised that resorting to that would be pointless.
Yeah..
Something as simple as a lie, Jungkook concluded, stood no chance at getting past the all too observant Hoseok. He would know whether he is being genuine or not. Lies wouldn't work this time round, his elder's demeanour proved as such.
With all of this running through his mind, he mustered up the strength to state his real answer, no strings attached.
"No."
....
...
The lieutenant furrowed his brow, certainly not expecting the boy to go against his own self.
"No?"
The younger was quick to elaborate.
"Yeah... I don't think...no, I can't promise you that.."
"Not when you yourself refuse to be completely honest with me. You talk about trust and loyalty...heh well... how can you expect me to be compliant and rule abiding when you yourself fail to fess up about why I'm basically treated like a caged animal!"
"So no, I can't promise you that you can fully rely on me to be obedient in terms of where I can and can't go... not when I myself can hardly trust you in return.. oh great Lieutenant."
There was a brief pause as he fought to maintain eye contact, his superior's lack of warmth ever present contradicting the subtle flicks of his lively, golden fins.
"I see..." he uttered. "Looks like we're at an impasse."
The elder idled forward once more causing Jungkook to back up in response. He realised he was slowly being cornered.
Crap, now I'm really done for.
"You wanna know why you're treated as such, why you aren't allowed to roam free? Well this right here is precisely one of the reasons. I don't know if the red in your scales contributes to your hot headedness, or if you're just plain reckless at times – never mind, that's besides the point – no, the fact is that you let those pent up emotions of yours blind your awareness and as a result your decisions become sloppy."
Jungkook's back hit the cave wall, having ran out of space to get away. The lieutenant now looming over the boy displaying his dominance.
"Petulance isn't going to get you anywhere," he continued. "You've got to grow up and face the fact that the world's oceans don't revolve around you, so stop thinking that you have it so tough. Acting selfish like you did earlier and going off to Delphin knows where will only heighten the risk of potential complications – ones that we can't afford to have and could jeopardise the whole round scope of things."
"There you go again." Kook hesitantly spoke up as his jaw ticked.
"You keep diverting the subject by right out skimming over the details. What aren't you telling me!? How am I supposed to obey without question when I don't know what the hell is going on!? Why am I the only one who has to be so cautious?"
"Look, I'm telling you it's not that simple."
"Well it obviously isn't when you won't even attempt to make me understand in the first place."
"Believe it or not Kook, this has got to do with more than just you. However your very position in all of this can either make or break everything if it is wrongly breached. The situation you're in stems from something far greater than you can possibly grasp."
The red-finned mer groaned in frustration at the vagueness of his reply, it was like he held an exotic treasure that could solve all of his life problems just out of his reach. All the lieutenant had to do was lower his hand to offer it to him but he time and time again refused.
Hoseok shot forward, filling the last remaining gap between them by locking his hands onto Jungkook's shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. This conversation he realised was becoming pointless as they were just going around in circles not getting anything across.
He took in the fired up state of his red-scaled companion, noting how his body instinctively shrunk under his gaze while at the same time wanting to fight against the submission. His chest rising and falling from getting worked up and the tendons on his neck becoming more pronounced.
"Look Bu- Kook..." he resolutely sighed.
"If there's one thing you can take away from all of this... that you can put your utmost faith into... is that when it comes down to it, you're my brother, the one I never had, no... who am I kidding, blood or not you are my brother." He stated that last declaration with the utmost confidence, now giving Kook's shoulders a more comforting squeeze.
Those twenty or so years ago, when he encountered the young Madam trailing along a very rambunctious, buck-toothed Kook, he knew that things would never be the same again. Their refuge meant the dawn of a coming war, one which he and like-minded others so desperately wanted to avoid...or hopefully delay.
His gaze ever so slightly lost its hard edge. The lieutenant hated getting even remotely angry, especially towards his fiery Bun. He just felt it went against his entire nature of love and light, as juvenile as that sounded.
"When have I ever not taken your well-being into consideration, put your life in jeopardy or led you astray? I promise everything will come together when the time is right. But for now, please.... please continue to trust that I have your best interests at heart. You're family to me and I protect my family."
Kook's head rose at that, as he none too kindly removed Hoseok's hands from his shoulders with a harsh shove.
"You're not you know.." he gazed at his elder.
"My real brother died a long time ago. He, unlike you, would have never kept anything from me."
With that the younger merman shouldered past him, his scarlet scales nicking the side of his waist as the lieutenant solemnly allowed him exit.
"I'm warning you Kook, don't do anything stupid!" He called out to his departing figure. "Go straight home, you hear me. Best not to keep your mother waiting any longer."
He huffed, pausing briefly before continuing.
"Do yourself a favour for once and have a good hard think about things."
The now red dot that was his Kook, never spared him a glance.
"Oh Bun.." he breathed out heavily, as guilt reared its ugly head. "Soon... Your time will come soon."
"Just hang on a little longer.."
Hang on for me, for your Ma...
" For Val.."
The last name barely whispered from his lips as he remained hovering in his place just outside the crevice opening. He looked out upon the blue world before him, processing all that had occurred beforehand.
Well, that was until..
*cRacKle*
....
*CrAckLe* *cracKLe*
"Huh?"
Mysterious noises made themselves known, filling the once silent void and causing the lieutenant become alert. Sensitive ears easily pinpointing the exact location of the sounds.
*cRacKLe*
Behind me.. he concluded. These noises.. They're coming from the crevice.
Schooling his features, he squared his shoulders, gearing himself up for a potential confrontation. Being the second to the Captain, he was far from being afraid; he'd already been through enough life threatening situations to ever feel even remotely frightened.
He could take on whoever dared to challenge him, it'd be their death wish. He'd make sure of that.
A sudden chill crashed into him, the drop in the water temperature making goosebumps arise on his toned arms and back, scales minutely shifting.
*cRaCkle* *CrAckLe*
It's now or never.
Having enough of this, he swished his scaled appendage, rotating to face the disturbance. His nails sharpening to provide further leverage and teeth bared to appear more threatening.
However.
What he assumed to have been a not so silent intruder, turned out to be further from the truth.
For it wasn't a who but rather a what.
An unnatural anomaly.
"By the gods.." he voiced in slight awe and uncertainty.
There, covering the rocky walls of the cave... was a rapidly growing layer of ice.
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"Madam Vanora, are you in?"
A chorus of high pitched voices sang outside the entrance of a particular home on the border of the Nephtis colony. They belonged to four mermaids with varying shades of greenish scales and long, flowy hair styled to perfection. They all waited with bated breath, hoping that the occupant was inside so they could get on with the real reason as to why they were here.
What separated them from just blindly entering the place was a thick and heavy piece of drapery, which in human terms, acted as a door. It hung over the entirety of the cave opening and was dyed a beautiful shade of red with accentuating golden embroidery at its edges.
"Do you think she's away somewhere?" One of the females spoke up after a good two or so minutes had passed and no one had answered the 'door'. Not a slither of movement was heard from within either, it was almost as if no one lived there at all.
"Oh don't be so stupid, the whole of Nephtis knows that the old lady never moves even an inch outside of this hovel. She's practically a hermit crab in a mermaid body."
"Shhh, she'll hear you!" The girl beside her whisper shouted, nudging her shoulder.
"And rude! She's not even that old anyway.. she's barely 900," One interjected, waving her hand about dramatically. "Oh, and I swear I saw her once at the Pledge to Selene Festival," Another with a more emerald coloured tail butted in.
"Whatever, if she is inside as you say then what's taking her so damn long?" The female who had first spoken up whined. "I'm suffering here! Why did she have to give birth to such a good looking son, that should be forbidden!?" She fake-gasped, clutching at her chest as if it had been pierced by one of those stereotypical love arrows, the female beside her patting her arm with understanding.
They all as a result spiraled into a deep conversation of gossip, not noticing that about midway through their very important debate on whether Madam Vanora's son's scales were more of a scarlet or deep crimson colour, that said mother of a supposed fallen god had graced them with her presence.
They were still in the midst of their life changing talk when she was forced to clear her throat, instantly shutting them up. Turning hesitantly with their eyes wide and some possessing beads of sweat, they all gave their elder synchronized bows.
"Why uh.. greetings M-madam Vanora, how are you this evening?"
There clutching the drapery in a tight fist and sporting a stiff smile, hovered a beautiful mer woman. Her tail bearing delicate rows of snow-white scales swayed keeping her in place as her turquoise orbs looked at each of them, giving the visiting mermaids a forced friendly nod.
"Hello girls. How may I help you?"
Even though she asked this, she already knew fair well why they were here. It definitely wasn't the first time that this same pod of mermaids had come by unannounced, hoping to interact with a certain someone. Her inquiry was more a way of being polite, a common courtesy if you will.
Looking back and forth between each other, two of the females pushed the one in the centre of their group forward, forcing her to be their spokesperson – or I guess you could say – spokesmer?
"Is um perhaps... your hunk of a- *cough* erm I mean.... is uh, Jungkook back yet?"
And there it was, the older female predicted, inwardly sighing.
How her son had gained the attention of a significant portion of the tribe's female population was beyond her. She knew for a fact that he wasn't one to willingly go chasing after them himself, if anything she would even be bold enough to say that he was a little intimidated by the opposite sex. Maybe that aspect was what drew them to him, oh and of course how could she forget about her dear Kookie's striking looks. There was no doubt that he inherited them from his equally as handsome father – Poseidon rest his soul.
"I see... well I'm afraid he is not, I am expecting him back soon. Though, may I ask as to what your intentions are with my boy, and at an hour or so before Helios departs at that? Shouldn't young girls like yourselves be at home instead and not off trying to seduce a certain mother's son?"
The pod of four, clearly caught out, froze, their faces turning stark white.
"No, no it's not like that! We're nothing more than his friends...we just wanted to check in on him, make sure that he is doing well you know. That's all we swear!"
"Hmm..." Not convinced in the slightest, she regardless, played along with their reasons. "Well I can assure you he is in fairly good health, he might even earn a promotion soon. But for that to happen he'll need some space and privacy to focus. Now that you know, best be on your way before your folks become worried."
"But wait Madam.. can't we at least wait for him inside? We promise we won't be in your way. You won't even know we're there. Please."
She clicked her tongue, gosh they were persistent.
"As I have previously stated, it is already far too late and I hardly have enough dinner prepared for more than two if I were to host guests, so I'm sorry but you'll have to come back another time."
The leader of the pod audibly huffed, no longer afraid to broadcast her annoyance at Madam Vanora's words, her patience having clearly run out. Flipping her hair over with more force than necessary, she turned away. "Urgh, it's useless. Come on girls, some individuals are clearly too stubborn."
She was stopped though by a second clearing of a throat.
"While you're at it, would you be so kind as to return this little guy back to his home. Poor thing seemed to have wandered in here by accident. Must've mistaken me for his family, we are after all said to be one and the same aren't we?"
The mermaid turned and gulped when she was handed a certain crustacean, that of a hermit crab, its beady eyes darting back and forth before hastily sinking back into the safety of its shell. It dawned on her then that the older female had overheard their insults towards her. She as a result paled further.
"Yes m'... L-let's get going everyone," she voiced and the next instance was zooming off in a trail of bubbles and foam. The others proceeded to follow their unofficial leader, giving the Madam a meek farewell out of respect.
Watching their outlines blend into the far distance, the mer woman couldn't help but shake her head in distaste at their clear desperation to earn her son's affections. Ah young love, she deduced, with an empty chuckle.
She was about to head inside again, however, much to her surprise, visiting hours didn't seem to be quite over yet; for amidst the ripples of retreating fins, one such scaled figure remained. No, an entirely new visitor altogether. A fifth mer which, unbeknownst to her had been concealed behind the back of the little group all this time.
Delight surged through the mer woman as she instantly recognised the lone mermaid.
"Mirren." She smiled, hovering forward towards her.
Now there was a sensible mer if she ever saw one. Not anything like those love struck fools eyeing her son down like he's prey ready for the taking. Mirren, a girl with such a kind and caring soul that the Madam had warmed up to her almost instantly upon their first meeting not all that long ago.
It couldn't have been more than four or five months ago that she along with her small familial pod had tumbled upon this little area of the sea, seeking out a place to start afresh. Next thing the mer woman knew, the mermaid was knocking on her 'door' and offering her a basket full of her delectable fish cakes. Even Jungkook seemed to get along with her which was a definite plus.
"Ms Nora!" she greeted jovially, pearly whites on full display as she enveloped her in a tight hug. "I hope I'm not intruding... not after that whole fiasco I just witnessed! You ok?"
The elder couldn't help but playfully scoff, patting her on the back before pulling back to look at her properly.
"Oh silly girl, it's always a pleasure to see you around here. Your presence has already done its magic and lifted my spirits."
"Aww shucks, I'm glad! Now be prepared, for I come bearing gifts!"
"Oh my!"
The mermaid known as Mirren reached down, picking up a displaced sack as big as the top half of her body, grunting at the slight weight even though the water naturally alleviated some of it. It proved to be quite unsteady in her hold as she fought to stay upright. Thankfully the elder was there to help distribute the weight.
"What on earth have you got in here, a baby whale? Why, it's huge!"
"Oh you know, some of this, some of that."
"Mhmm.." her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
They slowly backed into the Madam's home, careful not to drop the sack or bump into anything. Thankfully, they managed to complete the task efficiently enough, depositing the large mass into the centre of the main living space.
Looking at the young girl quizzically, Madam Vanora slowly undid the far too extravagant ribbon at the top of the present, careful not to tear it. Smiling, she ran her fingers over the thin strip of fabric, simply admiring it. She may or may not have a box full of these from all the past gifts she's received from her friend, but that's just between her and a rather weirded out Kook whenever he saw her discreetly adding to it. No, Mirren didn't need to know anything about her little ribbon collection or the next thing she'd have was a way too enthusiastic mermaid busting through the entrance with mountains full of the colourful strips.
Moving along, she placed the, this time, baby-blue ribbon, off to her side gently while getting back to the main attraction at hand which was the gigantic sack; it finally opened to reveal the contents to her more than curious eyes.
Oh holy father of flying fish sticks! She mentally swore, eyeing it all in disbelief.
Well, looks like she and her Kookie won't be going hungry for the foreseeable future, or lifetime at that, for within the enormous monster of a gift were piles upon piles of Mirren's freshly made dumplings. A golden outer layer fashioned into a spherical shape and stuffed with crab meat while others held different types of scrumptious seaweed.
The Madam's mouth couldn't help but water at the sight, though, she was quick to snap out of her reverie, turning to face the young female with a rather perplexed expression.
"Mirren, dear, I love you my sweet, but...this...." She motioned to the extensive food supply, "Are you trying to give us both an eternal stomach ache, how much is in here!?"
Her companion chuckled, amused at her reaction. "No, nothing of the sort!"
Her hand went into the pile of delicious goods, taking one in her hold. Breaking it in two, she offered one half to her older friend with hopeful eyes.
"Come on, try some, I know you want to."
Not able to refuse such a look, the Madam soon found herself nibbling on the golden treat, an instant dance of flavours gliding along her palette all complementing one another. She let out a content hum. Gosh, when it came to Mirren and food it was nothing but the best.
"Yay!" Mirren voiced with splendour. "I'll take that reaction as my go ahead."
"Go ahead?"
"Oh right! These were just leftover practice batches. I'm trying to perfect my skills for the upcoming Servitude to the Sol celebration, you do know it's in less than a week right?! These offerings need to be perfect!"
Right, the mer woman nodded thoughtfully. It's already that time of year again, gosh how time flies. The days tended to blend into one another when all she ever did was remain cooped up in her home, restricting interaction with most of the tribe. She had no one else to blame but herself for being out of the loop.
The humans recognised this event as the Summer Solstice, where the day outweighs the night, bathing the earth in its prolonged reverent light. For mer though, it was slightly more equivalent to a birthday, that being of Helios, the divine brother of the more favoured and influential Selene.
While his sister's domain was that of the sea and its inhabitants, he was more affiliated with the land above and tasked with watching over its dwellers, humans. With that being the case he didn't associate himself with merkind all that much and therefore was deemed less important.
That wasn't to say then that merfolk were obligated to forget about worshiping him. After all, he was family to their luna goddess and it wouldn't be all that respectful to her holiness to then disregard her next of kin.
"You'll come right? Jungkook too? I know you don't go out all that often but it would mean so much to me if you did. We could go together! I'm sure Helios will thank you for it."
Dithering, the Madam was at a loss as to whether to concede with Mirren's request. No doubt her son would be itching to go, he had all the previous years; anything to get out of staying cooped up inside for extended periods of time.
The mother wouldn't deny that she felt bad for restricting his freedom, that he should be allowed to go out and experience the world and what it has to offer like most others his age; but at the end of the day it was for his own good.
She would not lose another one of her boys... never again.
Rifling through the pros and cons she settled on a reason that could play out in both their favours. If she were to go then she'd be able to keep an eye on her Kookie, diminishing her fears of his safety as he'll be in her direct line of sight most of the time. He'll in turn be able to go and mingle amongst the tribe at his leisure and enjoy the celebration. Hoseok would most likely be there too as further support. He never let her family down in the past so that put her heart at further ease.
She looked at the currently pouting Mirren.
"Guess I'll have to repay you somehow after this generous donation of food.." she sighed, earning an excited cheer from her fellow mermaid.
"Yes!! Thank you! Oh Poseidon, we're gonna have so much fun! I promise you won't regret it!" The girl smiled from ear to ear, practically tackling the mer woman into another one of her tight hugs.
The mother playfully teased her at her overexcitement, patting her head.
"I'll hold you to that."
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Long after Mirren had left, thoughts of her son plagued her mind, drawing upon the fact that he still hadn't shown up.
Maintaining a suffocating grip on the doorway's drapery, the Madam craned her neck to view every possible angle, searching for that familiar scarlet tail.
But alas, no one met that description.
"Oh Delphin, where is that boy?" She muttered to herself with terse effort. His dinner is going to lose its freshness at this rate!
In the back of her mind though she knew the quality of his nightly meal was the least of her concerns, not when her dear boy was still out there, possibly alone....
..and vulnerable...and exposed...
Where everyone could see him....
Where they could potentially see him..
Out there where he could get caught, where he could get hurt....
Where he could get potentially k– Her chest tightened.
NO!
She shook her head in denial, refusing to finish that last horrid thought. Patrols are just going a little overtime...that's all...these things happen.
He's fine. He'll be here soon!
He's safe.
He's fine.
But what if he isn't... darkness interjected her affirmations once more, what if..
All the fears due to his lack of return continued to fill her mind.
She kept scanning the outside from their home entrance, grabbing tufts of her auburn hair in obvious worry. Still nothing!
Why isn't he back yet!?
By now she observed that night had befallen the colony, Helios long having made his daily exodus.
Her body shook as she let go of the red fabric to hide away once more in her tight spaced home.
One whole mackerel – her son's favourite dish – lay flat on the tiny dining table in the room's far corner, just waiting to be eaten.
She sank down to the floor, curling up her tail. Her eyes shut as she played a mantra of a prayer in her head, never relenting.
Please Kookie, my son, come home.
Please Kookie..
My son..
Come home!
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| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 | ༄⋆
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