#mr sadman’s spring exchange | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mr-sadman · 2 months

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Introducing : Mr. Sadman's Spring Exchange!

Without further ado, here are all the details!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.

General Rules and Informations

Being part of the Mr. Sadman discord is mandatory - meaning this event is open to server members only. Of course, that doesn’t mean you on tumblr cannot participate, just that you need to join the server before the event starts. There will be event related channels and roles available to ensure communication between the mod team and participants runs smoothly. Discord will remain the only method of communication used during the event.

Our sign-ups will be on AO3 only; you will be asked to submit your gift on AO3 regardless of its type to ensure that all assignations are met. That said, if your AO3 handle differs from your Discord handle, please tell us your Discord Username/ID in your sign-up form.

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. Just to reiterate, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server.

The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). In accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes: queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc, as well as hostility towards organisers and fellow participants.

It is also mandatory to keep your work and giftee’s identity a secret - this is to ensure that everyone gets the surprise on reveal day. Would you like to have your gifts spoiled ahead of time? Most don’t, so be considerate as it goes against the spirit of the event.

By signing-up to this event, you agree to respect all server and event rules. This includes communication with moderators that might happen outside of server bounds.

What is a gift exchange?

What is a gift exchange? It’s in the name! This is an event where the exchange of gifts (fic, art, etc.) is central! You will be paired with another participant to make a gift for them based on their sign-up! In turn, you will receive a gift from another participant based on yours!

Are there any minimum requirements? The minimum is 1k words for written pieces, one 500px by 500px piece for art pieces, a minimum of 2mins for digital pieces and audio submissions need to be edited to a near-professional level of quality.

[If your art doesn’t fit within these parameters, please make a note of it in your sign-up and a mod will get in touch with you to reach an agreement]

What kind of art can I make? Anything from traditional or digital drawing, to photomanips, fanvids, podfics, songwriting, book binding and more! We only ask you to put some effort into it!

A few exceptions include: playlists, icons and banners. These, while being a nice and fun bonus for your giftee, cannot be counted as your primary piece!

What can I write/request? Anything goes! Romantic, platonic, threesomes, foursomes, polycules, you name it! The only thing we ask you to not write/request is xReader/xOC content, as well as anything depicting real life’s children (such as the actors’).

Can I co-write with a friend? If you decide to co-write with a friend, you will have to submit only one sign-up form and will receive only one gift in return. More co-authors doesn’t mean more gifts.

Can I already be paired with someone? No, we do not accept preliminary pairings for this event.

What if I can’t meet a deadline? Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow participants, it is unfair to them for you to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Event Schedule

Sign-ups : March 31st to April 7th Assignations : April 15th Due date : May 5th Reveal : May 11th

FAQs & TLDR:

When is the event ? Our Exchange sign-ups are running from March 31st to April 7th, with the due date set for May 5th!

Do I need to be a part of the server to participate? Yes! Our Spring Exchange is open to all server members! This is also to facilitate contact between the mod team and the participants of the event. Please note that sign-ups will be held on AO3 only.

Are there any content type restrictions ? We accept works of various mediums - writing, art, photo edits, podfics, video edits, etc. - , whether they are SFW, NSFW and/or triggering. The only exceptions are playlists, icons and banners, which are not accepted.

Where should I post my work ? Your work should be posted to AO3 to ensure that all assignations have been completed.

Is this event only for Dreamling? Absolutely not! Whether your pairing is platonic, romantic, neither, both, we want it all!! There is space on the sign-up form for multiple requests, in case you have more than one favoured pairing!

Are polyamorous ships accepted ? Yes!!

Are xReader / xOC works accepted? Not this time around!

I need help, how do I reach a mod?

If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to reach out to us in the Discord server’s dedicated channel or in Discord DMs!

#mr sadman #mr sadman's spring exchange #faq #exchange rules #the sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanart #the sandman fanfiction

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aralezinspace · 23 days

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Lost in the Darkness

M || Dreamling || 4.3K

~~Read It Here~~

Dream decides to relive one of his darkest hours in the hope that both he and Hob may find closure, penance, maybe peace.

My contribution to the @mr-sadman spring fic exchange, for Essie! Brain really went 'what if we did the fishbowl rescue but somehow made it sadder and more feels-y' Title is from lost in the darkness from the musical Jekyll and Hyde

Hope you enjoy!

#the sandman #mr sadman spring fic exchange #dreamling

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bazzybelle · 23 days

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Title: Swim For Brighter Days

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Word Count: A little less than 30K

Summary: “You do not write with the others?” she finally asked him after three days of Hob reading the books in the house.

“Sadly, I am not much of a writer. I print books and I read them. The goddess herself neglected to bless me with her words,” he’d responded, smiling up at her. She was wearing a beautiful, white gown, flowing gracefully down to the floor. Elegant white gloves covered her hands and arms, while her hair was intricately braided in what Hob assumed was inspired by the women of Ancient Greece.

“Have you never tried before?”

“A few times, when I was younger and far more arrogant. Wrote a poem for a—” Hob stopped short, not knowing how exactly to refer to his stranger. Was he a friend? A casual acquaintance?

"A special person,” she finished for him.

“A special person,” Hob said.

Written for the @mr-sadman Spring Exchange for the amazing @kydrogendragon. My dear friend, I hope you enjoy this fic. I had such a wonderful time writing it! I had been meaning to try to write Immortal Throuple, and you gave me a good reason to go for it. Thank you for being a wonderful person and an incredible friend.

Huge thank you to @ginjones for the beta help, and to the Sadman Shaxberd Sprints for the encouragement to keep going.

#mr sadman spring exchange #immortal throuple #dreamling #dreamuse #dream of the endless #calliope of the muses #hob gadling #my writing

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ralkana · 23 days

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Come, O Love, Whene'er You May, And You Are Welcome, Welcome

• The Sandman (TV 2022)

• Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

• Teen And Up Audiences

• No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags:

• Developing Friendships

• Developing Relationship

• Making Up

• Reconciliation

• Getting to Know Each Other

Hob's mysterious stranger has finally returned, and has declared them friends. Now, they have to learn what that means.

16,000 words of Hob & Dream getting to know each other.

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16,500 actually. Jeez! My work for the @mr-sadman Spring Exchange is live!

I had so much fun writing this. It's been a really long time since I just sat down at the keyboard and the words just flowed.

@starlightervarda, I hope you enjoy it!

#mr sadman's spring exchange #dreamling #centennial husbands #dream x hob #my fic

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unpredictable-probabilities · 18 days

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No Longer a Dream || Chapter 2: Visitors of an Old Dreamlord

Summary:

Hob manages to convince Dream to stay with him while recovering. As he does so, three unexpected visitors drop by to check on them.

Word Count: 3,560

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They reached The New Inn, and Lee, the bartender, looked over in concern when they approached the doorway leading to the stairs to Hob's flat.

“Everything alright, sir?”

“Yeah, just had a little misunderstanding with my friend here so I've invited him over for brunch,” Hob gestured to Dream.

Lee eyed Dream before turning to Hob again. “James was in the morning shift and said he didn't see anyone come up to your place, so we were surprised and wondered if you were chasing a burglar.”

Dream arched an eyebrow, and Hob hurriedly spoke before he could get too offended. “No, no, he arrived last night, that's why James didn't see him.”

“Indeed,” Dream added. “I assure you that I mean no harm. And I had all intentions of returning Hob’s clothing when I walked out the door.”

Lee suddenly seemed to recognize Hob's shirt on Dream, and he visibly appeared to put two and two together. “Oh! Sorry, sir, we didn't realise you had a… uh, guest, last night.”

Hob felt himself flush. “I-It's not like that—”

“Oh, excuse me, sir. Customer.” Lee nodded to the guy who just approached the bar and asked for a menu. “You have a nice time with your friend!” He smiled at him and Dream before talking to the customer.

“Let's just go,” Hob turned to Dream and led the way to the back.

“Is something wrong?” Dream furrowed his eyebrows. “You seemed in distress when your employee called me your guest.”

“Oh, uh, no, it's just—” Hob cleared his throat. “He assumed that you're my, uh, let’s see, paramour. From last night. I was just trying to correct him.”

Dream blinked. “Is that a common occurrence, then? Do you often bring people here to bed them?”

“What, no!” Hob felt his ears warm. “I haven't gone out with anyone in ages. Especially not after you came back. Because I'd been so busy with work,” he hurriedly added.

“Hm. I am sorry to have made such an impression on your employee. I did not realise you were so against the idea of me being your paramour.” Dream said evenly as they climbed the stairs.

“I'm not— I mean I don't mind if people think we—” Hob snapped his mouth shut. He was behaving like a flustered teenager. Get it together, Gadling. “I wanted to correct Lee because I thought you might not like being seen as… you know… my lover or something.” He averted his eyes.

“Hm,” was all Dream said, which made Hob look at him again in curiosity.

“Do you not mind, then…?” Hob could feel the pulse in his throat. “If people see us that way?”

Dream looked at him and opened his mouth to answer, but they had reached the open doorway and Dream's eyes turned to something else.

“Sister,” Dream said in mild surprise. “And… brother.” He said more quietly.

Hob turned and saw two people standing in his living room; a woman with dark curly hair, and a much taller and muscular man with red hair and a beard.

“Morpheus.” The woman walked towards them and immediately pulled Dream into a hug. “We were wondering where you'd gone. I'm sorry we had to leave so quickly after bringing you here.” When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. “I trust you have been keeping well? I knew it was the right decision to bring you to Hob.”

The woman smiled at him, and Hob realised she seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he might have seen her.

“Hi, sorry, have we met before?” Hob asked uncertainly.

“No, but in 1389 you called me stupid.”

Hob tried to remember that day all those centuries ago, the first time he met Dream.

“You're Death,” Hob realised. “Thanks are in order, I suppose?” he grinned. Dream had told him when he first came back that it was Death who had given him immortality.

“You have my extremely stubborn little brother to thank for that gift.”

Dream pouted but didn't deign to say anything.

“Here's my other equally stubborn brother, Destruction,” Death looked over her shoulder at the bearded man, who chuckled before stepping forward.

“I'm afraid I can't argue much with that.”

Despite his build, he radiated friendliness much like Death did. If he and Dream were to stand side by side, Dream—with his quiet and aloof demeanour—might be the one mistaken for Destruction.

“You must be Hob Gadling.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and held out a hand. “Sorry we just let ourselves in, your door was open. Thank you for looking after our brother. ”

Hob took the hand and shook it. Destruction's grip was firm and callused, and it reminded Hob of all the warriors and soldiers he had known. “It's no problem. The tricky part is convincing him to let himself be looked after.”

“I’ve heard no complaints from you,” Dream pointed out.

Hob chuckled. “Shall we all sit down, then? Maybe have some tea?”

A little over five minutes later, they were all gathered at Hob’s dining table with steaming cups of green tea in front of them.

“We couldn't stay long after bringing you here,” Destruction began to explain, sitting beside Death and across from Dream. “We didn't want to risk The Kindly Ones following our trail.”

“Couldn't they have sensed Dream?” Hob asked. “He's Endless, too.”

Death and Destruction exchanged glances, and Hob felt Dream stiffen beside him.

“Not anymore,” Dream kept his eyes on his siblings. “Am I correct?”

“No,” Death shook her head. “You're still Endless, and you're still our brother, but…”

“You're not Dream anymore, Morpheus,” Destruction said gently, looking at his brother with sombre understanding.

“What does that mean?” Hob looked at each of them in turn.

“Someone else rules the Dreaming,” Dream—Morpheus—said in realisation. “I can feel it. That I am… less, now. Another has taken over my function.”

Death nodded. “Daniel. He's the Dreamlord now. And a benevolent one, so there's no need to worry about the denizens of the Dreaming nor the dreamers who visit.”

“And you can still visit the Dreaming too, as long as the new Dreamlord allows it,” Destruction said. “And we have no doubt that he will.”

“But please take some time to recover first,” Death said. “You only have that one body now, and it has just taken a lot of damage.”

“Why have you returned?” Morpheus asked Destruction with an edge of hurt to his voice. “Why help me escape my fate after centuries of being away from us?”

Destruction shook his head. “You were not obligated to die, brother. Just as I am not obligated to return to my original function. As for why I helped, you had been forced to break the old laws because of your quest to search for me; I would not have you die on my account.”

“What about The Kindly Ones?” Hob asked with a worried frown. “Would they still be after him?”

“No,” Destruction replied, and Hob let out a relieved breath. “We have spoken to them, shortly after bringing Morpheus here. We managed to convince them that an Endless being stripped of his function and forced to live an eternity as a human is as good as dying for them, and therefore enough punishment.”

“After all, no sane creature would crave an eternity of this. Am I right, brother?” Death asked Morpheus in amusement.

A smile twitched at the corner of Morpheus’ lips. “For the purposes of preserving my continued existence, let us say that you are indeed right, my sister.”

“I had thought that you would be more upset at losing your kingship,” Destruction mused. “And yet you are sitting here drinking tea with a human. I first had my doubts when Death said to bring you here, but now I see that this place is good for you. I do not think I have ever seen you more relaxed.”

Morpheus looked down at his cup. “Have you spoken to Delirium?”

“I have. Though I shall not be returning to my function, I have reached an agreement with our little sister that I would not be gone for so long, and endeavour to spend more time with her. Admittedly, I did not think someone could care about me so much,” Destruction smiled.

“Hmm. It would appear that such a trait runs in the family.” Morpheus looked at Hob, and there was no mistaking the affection in his gaze.

***

Death and Destruction bid their farewells eventually, reiterating how happy they were that Morpheus was all right. Morpheus gave a quiet thanks to them for helping him with The Kindly Ones, to which Destruction responded with a tight embrace.

When they had the place all to themselves again, Hob finally got to reheat the food from last night, and served a plate to Morpheus as well.

“I know, I know, you don't need to eat,” Hob said when he saw Morpheus about to protest. “But just eat a little, you're still recovering and it might actually help.”

Morpheus took a tentative bite of the chicken, and he chewed slowly as if savouring the taste on his tongue.

Hob very sternly told himself not to look at Morpheus’ lips as he ate, and he even nearly succeeded.

“I might understand now why you had been looking forward to eating this dish.” Dream stared curiously at the piece of chicken on his fork. “I do not frequently eat, but I recognize that the flavours are balanced and the taste is pleasing to the palate.”

“That's a long-winded way of saying you like my cooking,” Hob quipped to keep himself from staring as Morpheus’ tongue darted out for a moment to lick the bit of grease from his lip.

“I cannot accurately judge your cooking from just one dish. The only way to truly be sure is to sample others.”

Hob took a few seconds to process what Morpheus just said, to realise that his friend was looking at him with a playful glint in his eye. “You want to try more of my cooking?”

“If you have no prior dinner plans.” Morpheus took another bite and he really should stop darting out his tongue like that if he wanted Hob to remain sane for this conversation.

“It's a date,” Hob said without thinking. “I— I mean—”

He was saved from further rambling by a loud tapping on the window.

They looked over to see a black raven sitting on the ledge, hitting its beak repeatedly on the glass.

“Matthew?” Morpheus stood up and went to the window.

Hob followed curiously. Morpheus had told him about Matthew before, but he had never had the opportunity to meet the raven.

He opened it and was immediately met with an indignant squawk.

“So this is where you went, huh?” The bird said as it hopped onto the kitchen counter. “When were you planning on telling me you're alive?”

“Matthew. I have not been able to return to the Dreaming yet. And I had thought that you would be occupied in serving the new Dreamlord.”

“Oh right, you’re not my boss anymore. So I can do this.” Matthew flew up to Morpheus’ eye level and bit his nose.

Morpheus gave a cry and stumbled back. He stared at Matthew with wide eyes and his mouth open, too flabbergasted for words.

“Whoa, what was that about?” Hob said in surprise.

“That’s what he gets!” Matthew snapped at him before turning to face Morpheus again. “You think you can ghost me after ordering me to leave you to be killed? It’s a good thing your sister told me and Lucienne where you were.”

“Ghost you?” Morpheus looked confused.

“You’re lucky Lucienne said not to be mad at you.” Matthew snapped his beak at Morpheus, who instinctively flinched.

“This is you being friendly, then?” Hob quipped.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at him. “You must be the Hob Gadling dude they keep mentioning. Apparently you’re his favourite human or something, so you take care of him, okay? I'll be checking in again once everything's fine and dandy with the new boss.”

Hob grinned despite the threatening glare that the raven was giving him. “Sure, feel free to visit anytime.” He looked at Morpheus. “I wouldn’t wanna lose the ‘favourite human’ title.”

Morpheus’ cheeks turned pink and he turned to Matthew. “I am sorry for upsetting you. But you need not worry about me any longer.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, I don’t take orders from you anymore.” Matthew flew to Morpheus’ shoulder, and for a second Hob thought he was gonna bite his face again. But Matthew gently nuzzled against Morpheus’ cheek. “It’s really good to see you, boss,” he said quietly, his eyes closed.

Morpheus looked surprised before a soft smile appeared on his face. “I am not your boss, Matthew.”

“Shut up,” the raven said before flying back onto the counter. “I can’t stay long, gotta help with announcing to the denizens of the Dreaming that there’s a new king. But you two be careful. Use protection!” he said sternly to both of them before flying out of the window.

Hob’s eyes widened and he felt his face burn. What exactly do the denizens of the Dreaming think his relationship with Morpheus is?

“Protection?” Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows. “From what?”

“Um,” Hob cleared his throat. “Maybe he just meant we gotta look out for each other. Now come on, the food’s getting cold.” He turned away and quickly walked back to the table.

After finishing their meal and cleaning up the kitchen, Hob checked on Morpheus’ wounds again. They had healed up well, with some of them only being faint scars. Morpheus seemed affronted that there were scars at all, pointing out that back then he would have recovered enough for there to be no evidence of injury. Hob gave him some Earl Grey and said they could go shopping for clothes, which worked well enough in improving his mood.

Morpheus reminded Hob more than once to take note of the prices while they were at the shop, saying that he would pay him back once he had the means to. Hob pretended not to hear and changed the subject every time.

Hours later, they were sitting in front of the TV in the living room with plates of the pot roast that Hob had cooked for dinner.

“Remind me again why we are eating on your couch when you have an entire space dedicated for dining?” Morpheus’ imperious expression was softened by the fact that he was wearing a black sweatshirt and grey pyjama pants.

“So we could watch Doctor Who! I’m guessing you haven’t watched a single episode.”

“I had contained the collective unconscious. I am aware of what the show is and I know the dreams of the people that led to its creation.”

“Yes but have you seen an episode?”

Morpheus pouted, and Hob barely stopped himself from calling him adorable.

Four episodes in, and their plates were emptied and set aside on the coffee table. Hob felt the cushions shift and looked to see Morpheus leaning against the armrest with his eyes falling close.

“Morpheus? Would you like to sleep already? You can head to the bedroom now.”

Morpheus got startled and straightened in his seat, blinking. “This is strange. I am not supposed to need sleep.”

“Nothing wrong with needing sleep, or even wanting it. Especially since it's late already,” Hob glanced at the clock, it was past midnight.

“I see. Will you be going to sleep as well given the late hour?”

“In a bit. Just gonna wash the dishes first and brush my teeth.” Hob reached for the remote and turned off the telly.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot. We bought a toothbrush for me as well. Humans brush their teeth before they sleep, correct? Seeing as this body is human, I must take care of it as such. It would not do for me to deteriorate further.”

Hob wanted to say that Morpheus hadn't deteriorated at all, but Morpheus already stood up. Hob watched him with a small smile as he went to the bathroom for his toothbrush. It was good to see that Morpheus wanted to take care of himself, despite his mixed feelings about his newly human body.

***

When his nightly routine was done, Hob went to his room to get an extra pillow and blanket from his closet.

“What are you doing?” a sleepy voice asked.

He turned to see that Morpheus had propped himself up on an elbow to look at him.

“Just getting a pillow for the couch,” Hob held up said pillow. “You can go back to sleep.”

Morpheus sat up entirely and swung his legs off the bed. “The couch? This is your home. I will not take over your sleeping quarters.”

“I don't mind the couch, don't worry. You can have the bed to yourself.”

Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows. “Was it so unpleasant to share the bed with me last night that you do not wish to do it again?”

“No, no,” Hob quickly said. “It wasn't unpleasant at all.”

“Then what is the problem?”

Hob fidgeted with the pillow in his hands. He didn't mind sleeping next to Morpheus, it was the opposite, actually. Last night was one of the most comfortable sleep he'd ever had, but he felt like he would be taking advantage of his friend, since Morpheus had no idea that Hob's been in love with him ever since that first day they spent together at the Inn. Maybe even before that.

“No problem,” Hob finally answered. “I just thought you might be more comfortable having more space.”

“Hob Gadling, will you sleep in your own bed or do I have to pin you to it?” Morpheus said.

Now, there’s a thought. Hob swallowed.

“You really think you’re strong enough to be threatening that?” Hob grinned, instinctively hiding behind humour.

Morpheus narrowed his eyes, and Hob’s grin melted off his face as Morpheus slowly got out of bed and walked towards him.

“You dare question my strength?” Morpheus’ voice was a low rumble as he stood right in front of Hob.

Hob couldn’t look away from those stormy blue eyes, and any clever comebacks he might have had had slipped away from his mind.

Whatever expression he had on his face must have been mistaken as fear by Morpheus, who took a step back and smiled playfully.

“I jest. I simply do not want to keep you from using your own room in your house. If I must, I will take the couch.”

That got Hob back to his senses. “Like hell you will. Have you even slept in a couch before?”

“I have never slept before last night. Not in the way humans do.”

“Right, well, I’m not exiling you to the couch. Come on.” He walked over to the bed, belatedly realising he was still carrying the extra pillow and blanket. There were already two pillows on his bed, and he and Morpheus shared the blanket last night. But it was better that he brought his own now, right? Christ, he was overthinking this.

They settled into bed, with Morpheus pulling the blanket over both of them just as he had the night before. The extra one that Hob was holding had been put aside by the pillows.

“I thank you for letting me stay in your home,” Morpheus said quietly, facing him. “I am not sure how to begin looking for my own place, but—”

“Hey, none of that.” Hob turned to face him properly as well. “You’re welcome here for as long as you’d like. And if it’s money you’re worried about, I already told you way back in 1789 that I’ve learned how to manage my finances, right? If we continue at this rate, I’ll be able to pay for both our living expenses up until the next century at least.”

“I do not wish to be a burden.” Morpheus said it with the weight of something from his past, like it was something he felt he needed to clarify.

“You never are,” Hob said with all the reassurance he could muster. “If you really want to find your own place and even career, I’d be more than happy to help. But I’m telling you that I’m also happy to have you here. I like your company. In case that hasn’t been clear in the last six centuries.”

Morpheus’ answering smile was so fond that it made something flutter in Hob’s chest. “I enjoy your company as well, Hob. You are a good friend. I shall see you in the morning.”

Hob couldn’t help but smile back at that. “You definitely will. Good night, Morpheus.”

“Good night, Hob.”

Morpheus closed his eyes but didn’t turn away, and Hob found himself staring. He wondered how many people got to see Morpheus this relaxed.

This was the man who had stormed off in the rain when Hob dared to say that they were friends. And now, despite all his new human vulnerabilities, he trusted Hob enough to sleep next to him. It was enough to have Hob sigh in contentment as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

---

<- (Chapter 1)

(Chapter 3) ->

(Masterlist)

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merinsedai · 19 days

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I've only just recovered enough to come on Tumblr and flail about it, but @kydrogendragon wrote me this wonderful fic for the @mr-sadman 's Spring Exchange and it's genuinely the best thing: ticks all my lists, checks all my boxes. And you should also go and read it and have fun!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Prince Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Knight Hob Gadling, Smut, Omega Dream of the Endless, Alpha Hob Gadling, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Mating Bites, Arranged Marriage, Not between Dream and Hob, Scenting

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And mine was this one:

Which is my funny(ish I hope) retelling of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight but Dreamling. With added dragons and lots of staring!

This was a lot of fun (and lost sleep since my brain refuses to behave normally and let me write at a decent hour) and as soon as I've finished reading all the CHBB (think I have 10 to go!) then I'm on to the rest of these. Or probably before tbh, most of these are a lot shorter 😁

#the sandman #the sandman fanficion #mr sadman's spring exchange #dreaming fanfiction

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spockandthings · 23 days

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I had the wonderful pleasure to participate in @mr-sadman Spring Exchange and had the lovely LadyFaggot as my giftee! I came up with a very soft and domestic Destiny/Hob for them, I hope you enjoy too!

I swear that I'll be yours forever / Til' forever falls apart (Destiny of the Endless x Hob Gadling)

1.2k words ; Gen ; No Archive Warnings Apply ; Established relationship, Domestic Fluff, Witch!Hob

Destiny visits Hob as the witch is working.

Event's AO3 collection

#destiny of the endless #hob gadling #destiny x hob gadling #the sandman #the sandman comics #the sandman fanfiction #mr sadman's spring exchange #sandman fanfic #sandman fanfiction

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emihotaru · 23 days

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I still can't believe someone wrote a whole Dreamling fanfic especially for me. Thank you, @starlightervarda !!

And the 12 years old me who red The Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles back in the nineties is so happy, too^^

#sandman fanfiction #dreamling #the sandman dream #the sandman morpheus #the sandman #the sandman hob gadling #morpheus x hob #hob gadling #mr sadman's spring exchange

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mr-sadman · 3 months

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The Mr. Sadman Mod Committee is very excited to reveal our Spring and Summer event schedule!!

Buckle up, because this is gonna be such a fun ride!

More details will be given in individual posts nearing the events' respective timelines!

Have fun and enjoy~

#mr sadman #the sandman #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanart #dreamling week #sandmanniversary #mr sadman's spring exchange

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mr-sadman · 23 days

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Hello wonderful people!

Spring is in full bloom and we are elated to be able to reveal TODAY all the hard work of our Spring Exchange participants!

All works are collected in our dedicated AO3 collection found here : https://archiveofourown.org/collections/MrSadman_SpringExchange2024/works

You are free to spread the joy and we hope that you like what our participants have cooked up, because we sure are proud of them!

Participants, if you'd like for us to reblog your post about your gift, please make sure to tag us (mr-sadman) and use #Mr Sadman's Spring Exchange !!

#mr sadman's spring exchange #mr sadman #the sandman #sandman fanfic #the sandman netflix #sandman fanart #sandman #the sandman fanart

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unpredictable-probabilities · 18 days

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No Longer a Dream || Chapter 1: His End

Main Summary:

Hob had felt a sense of worry about Dream ever since they last saw each other.

When Dream appears on his doorstep a month later, Hob's worries only grow.

But now he has a chance to be there and actually take care of Dream. And by God, he'll do his damnedest to keep his friend safe.

Total Word Count: 13,712

Author's Notes:

This work is a gift for @zzoomacroom as part of the @mr-sadman 2024 Spring Exchange <3 If you prefer to read it on AO3, here's the link~

Heads-up that I haven't read the comics leading up to the Significant Canon Event I mentioned here, I just got information about it from the internet, including the personality of a certain character that hasn't appeared in the show yet. So if the timelines or some other things don't match up, that's why.

Anyway this was really fun to write, and I hope you all have fun reading it too! ^_^

Chapter Summary:

Dream appears on Hob's doorstep injured and barely conscious. Hob helps him recover and worries about what could have happened to hurt his friend that much.

Chapter Word Count: 4,386

---

The butter sizzled on the tagine pot, so Hob lowered the heat on the stove before double-checking if he had evenly coated the chicken wings with the breading before frying them. He had become fond of the mixture of ground cinnamon, ginger, turmeric, pepper, salt, and olive oil ever since he first tried the recipe last Christmas.

While the chicken cooked, Hob got to work on the glaze; simmering honey, a cinnamon stick, and some apricots in a saucepan.

He usually didn't make elaborate dinners after a school night, but seeing as it was a Friday and he had just finished marking the backlogged essays, he figured he deserved it.

After everything was cooked, he set them on the coffee table in front of the telly. Some Jeopardy and then a good book would be the perfect way to end the evening.

Hob put his feet up on the armrest, the plate on his lap, and was about to take a bite of chicken just as the show was starting.

A knock on the door made the fork stop halfway to his mouth.

Hob sighed and put the plate down on the coffee table before walking towards the door.

One downside about living in a flat above The New Inn was that sometimes his staff came up to ask for his input about one thing or other. Tonight could be about the inventory; they usually had to restock for the end-of-month specials.

He opened the door and his eyes widened, any thoughts of the Inn fleeing from his mind.

“Hob…” Dream was standing unsteadily, his voice barely more than a breath.

His black coat was in tatters, and his pale cheekbones seemed more prominent on his bruised face. A cut above his left eyebrow was bleeding.

“Jesus, Dream—” Hob barely got the words out before Dream's legs buckled.

Hob quickly caught him, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist as Dream slumped against his chest.

“Dream? Dream?” Hob heard the growing panic in his voice when Dream's limp form didn’t respond.

He half-dragged, half-carried Dream to his couch, barely registering the sounds from the TV show.

He propped up Dream's head with a pillow and gently brushed away the lock of hair that was sticking to his forehead.

Was Dream sweating?

Dream’s eyes were half-closed, and he seemed to be mumbling something.

“What? What do you need?” Hob leaned closer to hear him better.

“...leave. I must leave.” Dream looked like he wanted to stand up but couldn’t seem to remember how.

“Leave?” Hob said in surprise. “Mate, you can barely keep your eyes open."

"Must… Keep you safe…"

"I'm perfectly safe. It's you we should worry about. And why’d you come here if you’d just leave immediately?”

Dream shook his head, wincing as if the small movement caused him pain. “I did not… I was brought here.”

“What?” Hob frowned and took a breath. Each answer from Dream just brought up more questions. “That doesn’t matter right now. What’s important is you recover, yeah? Stay here.”

Hob quickly got the first-aid kit from the cabinet and went back to Dream's side. “Just gonna clean up that cut on your forehead. This might sting a bit.”

Dream flinched when the cotton made contact with his skin but didn't seem to have much energy to protest.

“Right then,” Hob said after cleaning up the cut. “I have to remove your coat to see your other injuries. Is that alright?”

Dream frowned and grudgingly nodded, his face contorting in pain as he tried to shrug off his coat.

Hob tried to help as gently as he could, and the coat practically fell apart in his hands with how shredded it already was.

“Jesus…” Hob tried not to think of the last time he saw Dream. His friend visited for a drink, and there had been a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach that made him reluctant to let Dream out of his sight.

The shirt underneath the coat was torn in a lot of places too, and the fabric stuck to Dream's skin with dried blood. Hob frowned and took a closer look. The dark patches of blood had a shimmering quality to them, like there was glitter mixed in. He checked the cotton he had used for the cut on Dream's forehead; it was faint but it was there, the glitter with the dark red.

Alright, so his oldest friend was bleeding starlight on his couch. But more importantly, most of the bleeding seemed to have stopped already. He didn't know if Endless even needed their wounds to be cleaned and disinfected, but it was better to be safe.

“I'd have to cut your shirt off of you to clean the rest of the wounds, sorry. But if you're not comfortable with that, I can… Uh…” Hob racked his brain for an alternative. He knew what Dream had gone through from 1916, and he didn't want to make his friend feel so exposed again, but he didn't want to risk him getting an infection either.

Dream reached for his hand and gave it a weak squeeze. “I trust you.” It was barely a whisper but Hob heard it clearly.

Hob smiled reassuringly at his friend even though he's not sure how well Dream's half-closed eyes could see him.

It didn't take very long to get the shirt out of the way and clean the cuts on Morpheus’ torso. Hob’s army doctor knowledge came naturally to him, and all the while he pushed down his worries about what could have possibly done this much damage to his godlike friend.

Dream's pants were intact and had no cuts, as well as his boots. So after making sure that his face and torso were tended to, Hob removed his boots and gently lifted him up from the sofa, supporting his back and the backs of his legs.

Dream grumbled a noise of protest, but his eyes were fully closed.

“Just taking you to the bed, you'll recover better if you're more comfortable,” Hob explained, carefully walking towards the bedroom so as not to jostle Dream. “So you get the bed tonight and I'll take the couch.”

He placed Dream down on his bed and quickly put the blanket up to his chin.

“There. You rest up, and tomorrow, tell me who I need to fistfight,” Hob said mostly to himself, he suspected that Dream was asleep already.

He sighed and looked down at his friend. He had never seen Dream sleep before, and seeing it now made him feel a surge of protectiveness, not unlike what he felt in 1789 when Lady Johanna’s thug pointed a knife at Dream's throat.

Hob returned to the living room to tidy up before he could fully analyse such feelings.

He tried eating the chicken on his plate, but he had lost his appetite and felt too nauseated with worry to eat properly. He cleaned up and put all the food in the fridge, glancing from time to time at the open doorway to check on Dream.

After everything had been put away, he returned to his bedroom and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. Dream looked much more relaxed now, the crease on his forehead had smoothened and his breathing came more evenly.

Hob knelt down and brushed a strand of hair from Dream’s face, barely touching the skin. “Good night, love,” he whispered, warmth spreading in his chest at how right the words felt.

He stood up and turned to go, deciding to leave the door open in case Dream needed something. But before he could walk away, he felt a hand grab his own.

“Stay,” Dream’s voice said, soft with sleepiness.

Hob looked at him in surprise, unsure if he heard correctly. “You… want me to stay in this room? Okay, um, just give me a moment to get the spare mattress—”

Dream shook his head and blinked blearily at Hob. “Beside me.” He moved aside to make more space on the bed, not letting go of Hob's hand.

Hob swallowed. Dream’s grip on his hand might still be weak, but Hob didn't feel nearly strong enough to pull away. He felt himself nodding. “Of course.”

He climbed in beside Dream, who pulled the blanket over the both of them as soon as he lay down.

Dream pressed in closer to Hob, tucking his head under Hob's chin, his hand over Hob's chest. “You are very warm.”

“Uh,” Hob managed, his brain still trying to process how they ended up here.

Dream felt cool against him, and Hob wondered if he was cold. That would certainly explain why he was suddenly all snuggly.

Hob tentatively turned and put an arm around Dream, making sure that his touch stayed over the blanket and not on Dream's skin. “Is this better?”

Dream made a contented hum, and when he didn't reply several moments later, Hob realised he had fallen asleep.

Hob sighed, resting his chin on Dream's soft hair. Tomorrow, he would ask Dream what had caused his injuries. He'd see what else he could do to help and what else Dream needed.

But for now, they both deserve a good night's rest. And in the darkness of his bedroom under the covers with Dream, Hob allowed himself to believe that he deserved this, too.

***

Hob began to wake up when he felt the mattress shift. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and saw a slim figure get up unsteadily from the bed and onto the floor.

“Dream,” Hob sat up, the events of last night coming back to him all at once. “Is everything all right?”

“I apologise for intruding on you last night. It was not my intention…” Dream trailed off and looked down at his bare chest, seeming to notice it for the first time. His eyes widened fractionally, and Hob was quick to jump out of bed and get to his closet.

“Here, take this.” He got the first black shirt he saw and handed it to Dream.

Dream looked at it uncertainly for a moment before putting it on. It hung loosely around his frame; the sleeves reached down to cover half of his hands and the neckline showed his collarbones. “I thank you for your kindness. I will be sure to repay it soon. But for now I must leave.”

“There’s nothing to repay— Wait, leave? You were barely conscious just hours ago, are you sure you should be going out by yourself already?”

Dream nodded once. “I feel quite alright. You have taken care of my injuries and…” He glanced to the bed and averted his eyes for a moment. “I apologise for my behaviour. It was crude of me to insist upon your company as I did last night.”

Hob shook his head. “Not at all. We’re friends, right? I’m always happy to keep you company.”

Dream gave him the barest hint of a smile. “I must go. I will return your item of clothing as soon as I am able.” He turned and headed for the door.

“Whoa wait,” Hob followed him to the living room. “I don’t care about the shirt. At least let me check on your wounds before you leave.” He kept remembering the way Dream looked when he arrived, how he fell limp and unresponsive in his arms.

“You have done more than enough for me, my friend,” Dream said gently. “By all rights I am… not even supposed to be alive anymore. But I am grateful that it was you to whom they brought me. Regardless, I cannot stay long. I thank you again.”

He walked quickly towards the front door, but Hob was faster.

“Hey,” Hob grabbed his arm and spun him around so they faced each other. “Not supposed to be alive anymore? What are you— You can’t just say that and then leave! What…” he trailed off, looking into Dream’s eyes as he held Hob’s gaze.

“Hob. I must go.” Despite his firm voice, Dream looked conflicted.

Hob couldn’t discern if the conflict meant he wanted to stay longer, or at the very least explain more. But Hob didn’t want to cause him any more distress. He reluctantly let go of Dream’s arm. “Okay, but… will I see you again next week?”

Before Dream had visited him a month ago to say that he was going to do something important, they had seen each other every week since Dream’s return from Fawney Rig.

The second that it took for Dream to answer was enough to make Hob's stomach turn with nervousness.

"I believe so, yes."

Hob nodded. "You take care, alright? If you need anything you know you can always come here."

The smile that Dream gave him was less subtle this time. "You take good care as well, Hob Gadling." He went out the door and closed it behind him.

Hob almost immediately began to pace the floor. There was something he couldn't quite figure out about the conflict in his friend's expression. Maybe two centuries ago Dream would be too prideful to stay or rely on him, but he was different now. Something else was stopping him from staying with Hob even though it seemed like he wanted to.

Hob stopped in his tracks as he remembered something that Dream said last night.

"Must… Keep you safe…"

Dream left to protect him. Dream was worried that whatever attacked him last night might follow him here.

"I am… not even supposed to be alive anymore."

Something was after Dream.

Hob flung open his front door and raced outside, praying to whoever god was listening that his friend hadn't teleported away.

He was just able to see Dream exit the Inn as the door closed behind him.

“Sir? Who was that?” The bartender asked Hob but he was already running to the door.

Dream walked fast. He had already gone a good distance when Hob got out onto the street.

The rush of the morning commute wasn't helping. Three times Hob had lost sight of Dream in the foot traffic, and each time he was afraid that Dream had teleported. Maybe he was overreacting, maybe there was nothing to worry about, but he'd rather not risk it. He had no idea that Dream had been captured and imprisoned for over a century; if Dream went away and died somewhere, would he ever know? Or would he keep waiting century after century for someone who would never come back?

Hob pushed down the wave of nausea that rose with that thought, and focused on keeping his eyes on Dream. He had considered calling out to him, but worried that it might only drive him away further.

Dream turned a right to the park, and Hob followed, keeping his distance.

Dream went to an empty bench and sat down.

Was he waiting for someone? Hob stood half-hidden behind a tree a few feet away, unsure of whether to approach.

“Will you not sit with me, Hob Gadling?” Dream said without looking at him.

Hob was only briefly surprised, then he chuckled to himself and walked over to the bench. “So you knew the whole time, then?” He smiled sheepishly, tugging at his left ear.

“I would recognize your presence anywhere.”

Hob was relieved to see that Dream didn't seem upset and even looked fondly at him—if Hob dared to believe it.

Hob shifted uneasily in his seat, feeling Dream's warmth even though there were a few inches of space between them. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked. “Are you in danger somehow?”

Dream seemed to weigh his words before speaking. “You must not worry about me, Hob. You need not have followed me here.”

“You're my friend, I'll always worry about you. Especially when you pass out in my house and say stuff like you shouldn't be alive anymore,” Hob said pointedly.

Dream looked down for a moment, his long eyelashes catching the light of the sun. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation after all that you have done for me.”

“No, it's not that.” Hob sighed. “You don't owe me, I'm just concerned. And if I can't do anything to help, at least let me be someone you can talk to.”

Dream stared out into the park where families were having picnics and kids ran around with their dogs. “What do you know of the story of Orpheus?”

“The bloke in Greek mythology?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows while trying to remember what jumbled knowledge he had of the myths. “He had a lyre, and he was the one who almost succeeded in getting his wife out of the Underworld, except he looked back when he wasn't supposed to.”

It was one of the more popular stories, and one that stuck with Hob as someone who had also lost a wife too soon. He would have also braved the Underworld to get Eleanor back, and like that poor sod Orpheus he would have also looked back.

“Indeed.” Dream kept his eyes looking in the distance. “Shortly after his failed quest, Orpheus was killed and his body hacked to pieces. His decapitated head remained conscious and was able to provide prophecies to adventurers and travellers alike.”

Hob pondered that for a moment. “What a way to live, eh? Just a talking head. Travelling would certainly be out of the question. Even I'm not sure how long I'd be able to do that.”

Dream was quiet for a few seconds. “He did not wish to continue living like that himself. And in exchange for a boon, he asked me to help him. End his life.”

“...Oh. You knew him, then?”

“Yes.” Dream said calmly. “He was my son.”

Hob stared at Dream, speechless in his surprise. After having known Dream for centuries, he had half-expected that most people in mythology were real. But knowing that Dream lost his son in such a way made him feel a deep sadness; no pain compared to outliving a child.

“And did you…” Hob couldn’t even finish the thought.

Dream nodded. “I asked for his help in finding my brother. In return, he made me promise to help him end his existence as a lone head of an oracle. He was unhappy, and I could not refuse when he asked for my aid.”

Hob fell silent. If he had been in Dream’s place, would he have had the strength to do the same? If Robyn had asked for his help in ending an unhappy existence, would Hob be selfless enough?

“I'm…” Hob trailed off. What could he say? He was sorry that Dream had to help with the death of his own son? Dream wouldn’t want to be pitied. “I'm glad to see you're okay, at least. But what did you mean that you're not supposed to be alive?”

“The old laws forbid us from killing our own blood, on pain of death. When the Kindly Ones found out what I had done for my son, they came to enforce the law.”

Hob could only imagine what it must have felt like for Dream, knowing he would be killed for fulfilling a promise to his son.

“How did you escape?” Hob's voice came out in a whisper, as if speaking any louder would bring the attackers upon them again.

There was a slight frown on Dream's face as he tried to recall what happened. “I am not entirely sure. I had no plans to escape. I regained consciousness shortly before my siblings brought me to your door.”

“You had no plans to escape?” Hob said incredulously, horrified. “You knew that your punishment was death, and what— You just— You just sat there while they tore at you?” He didn't even want to imagine such a scene.

Dream finally looked at him. “You are upset.”

“Of course I'm bloody upset! You just told me you planned to die. Were you ever gonna tell me?” Hob had gotten to his feet. He didn't know when the tears had started to well in his eyes.

“I had said goodbye to you. Before.” Dream looked at him with a sombre expression.

“What…” Hob frowned, processing what that could mean. “When you visited me for drinks a month ago? That's it? Was I supposed to wait for you for an eternity not knowing that you had died?” His voice broke.

“There would have been a funeral,” Dream looked up at him, his voice soft and his eyes resigned. “You would have been invited.”

“Oh, well then that makes everything better, doesn't it?” Hob was almost yelling now. “Centuries of friendship and I'm only supposed to find out about your suicide mission at your bloody funeral?” Hob’s tears began to fall, and Dream's eyes widened as he stood up.

“Hob…” Dream said in concern.

“You don't understand, Dream. You're the only person whose funeral I'm never supposed to attend. I've long since accepted that I would one day lose everyone I care about, but not you! What happened to meeting every century? Why didn't you wish to live?”

Dream stared at him in surprise and confusion. “I… did not think you cared that much. About our meetings. About…” he seemed to struggle in getting the words out. “Me.”

“Of course I care about you,” Hob's voice quieted down. He suddenly felt exhausted. “I never hid that, did I?”

There was conflict again in Dream's eyes, and a moment later he had stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hob, pulling him in a loose embrace.

“Is this alright?” Dream asked softly.

Hob clenched his fists onto the back of Dream’s shirt and ducked his face into Dream’s chest, letting the last of the tears fall. All his pent-up worries since finding out about Fawney Rig and Dream's visit last month had surged up all at once, and now he was having a meltdown in the middle of a park. He'd be embarrassed if he didn't feel so wrung out.

He gently pulled away once his breathing had evened out. “Sorry, I've cried all over your shirt now.”

“It's your shirt,” Dream said with a hint of playfulness.

Hob chuckled. “Right. But seriously, Dream, are you still in any danger?”

Dream glanced at the sky, as if making sure there wasn't anything approaching. “If the Kindly Ones still wanted me dead, I believe I would be already. Something has happened to stop them, though I do not know what that could be.” He looked at Hob again, and when he spoke his voice was quieter. “I did not want to risk them following me to your home. That is why I had to leave.”

“Yeah I figured that much. But if you said they were only upholding some law, then they'd have no reason to harm me, right?”

Dream paused to consider it. “Indeed. But still I would rather you not encounter them.”

“And I'd rather you have a safe place to stay while you recover. Do you have anywhere to go?” A thought occurred to Hob. “Can you still teleport?”

Dream glanced down and didn't say anything. It would make sense that he was weakened enough not to have his powers; Hob should have realised that sooner.

“Wanna come back to my place and maybe we could figure something out over tea?” Hob asked gently. “There's also the spiced chicken I made for dinner last night, would take no time at all to reheat it.”

“I do not need to eat.”

“But I do. And I'm famished, love.” Hob belatedly realised what endearment he had just said, and he cleared his throat before averting his eyes in what he hoped looked like a nonchalant gesture. “Anyway. Shall we?”

Dream looked at him contemplatively before nodding.

They walked in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company while they went past the shops and restaurants. Some couples they came across were holding hands while walking, and Hob vaguely wondered what it would feel like to hold Dream's.

He should probably turn his thoughts to something else now.

“So, if you had a son, does that mean you're married? Is someone out there waiting for you to come home?”

Dream looked caught off-guard for a second and Hob wanted to kick himself. He never could stay quiet when it was the smarter choice. He was about to apologise and take back the question, but Dream was already answering.

“I have not been married in a long time. My former wife and I… We have had our problems even before our son was condemned to being an oracle. We had grieved separately. No one is waiting for me.” Dream's voice held an almost indifferent resignation, and Hob wanted so badly to tell him that he would always wait for him. That he did wait for him, all day and night at The White Horse in 1989, and every day since.

Dream stopped in front of a food stall. “I believe they sell grilled meat and bread over here. Shall we purchase some?”

Hob looked at the stall and raised an eyebrow at Dream teasingly. “I thought you said you don’t need to eat?”

“But you do. Love.” The corner of Dream’s mouth turned up.

Hob felt his face warm and he chuckled nervously. God, this man was going to kill him. “I don't have any money on me. I ran out of my flat in just my pyjamas, you know? Barely managed to put my shoes on. Besides, we're almost back there now,” he rambled, looking at anywhere but Dream.

“Then let us proceed to your home. I would not want to further intrude on your daily routines.” Dream began walking again.

“You're not intruding,” Hob said as he walked beside him. “How many times do I have to say it? I'll whack you over the head until you understand that you're welcome to stay with me anytime.”

Dream looked at him with a frown that Hob would never say he found endearing. “You would not dare.”

“Or what?” Hob challenged.

Dream narrowed his eyes at Hob. “You have grown insolent,” he said without any bite to it.

“Always been,” Hob winked.

Dream looked back at the road again, but not before Hob caught his smile.

---

Note:

I had no idea what a tagine pot was before I wrote this fic, but it sounds pretty cool and I can see Hob owning one.

---

(Chapter 2) ->

(Masterlist)

19 notes · View notes

unpredictable-probabilities · 18 days

Text

No Longer a Dream || Chapter 3: A Raven's Secret

Summary:

Hob helps Morpheus settle into the life of being human, and Morpheus’ new job inspires revelations.

Word Count: 3,464

---

Hob woke up to Morpheus’ sleeping face beside him. Their hands were beside each other on the pillow between them, and Hob wondered wistfully if they somehow held hands in their sleep.

Morpheus’ breathing remained relaxed and even; he looked much more comfortable now than he did yesterday morning when he woke up and hurried to leave.

Hob smiled, feeling a certain ache in his chest. Seeing Morpheus first thing in the morning. What a dangerous thing to get used to.

He got out of bed as slowly as he could so as not to wake up Morpheus. He went through his morning routine and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The bacon had just finished cooking when Morpheus walked in, covering a yawn with his hand. His hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled. Something fluttered in Hob’s chest at the beautiful sight.

“Good morning,” Hob greeted cheerfully as he set the plate of bacon on the dining table beside the pancakes. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

Morpheus followed him and sat down. “They smell good,” he observed, looking curiously at the food.

“Of course, it's a classic.” Hob untied the apron around his waist and hung it on the hook in the kitchen before joining Morpheus at the table. “I also made hot chocolate,” he gestured to the steaming cups in front of them.

Morpheus took his cup and raised it to his lips.

“Careful—”

“Ow!” Morpheus flinched away from the cup and stared at it in surprise.

“You okay?” Hob asked in concern.

Morpheus set the cup down on the table. “Extreme temperatures have never been a problem for me before. It would take some getting used to.” He gingerly touched his upper lip.

Hob felt proud of himself for not staring too long at that gesture. “I’ll warn you sooner next time,” he smiled apologetically. “Now that you actually have to eat, is there any dish you’d like to try? I plan on stopping by the grocery tomorrow after work.”

Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. “I do not know. I have not eaten frequently enough to develop a preference. Just cook what you normally would, and I would be glad to try them.” He took a bite of the pancake with the butter and syrup on top, and his face lit up. “This one is something I would like to have again.”

“Consider it done,” Hob grinned. He’d cook anything just to see that expression on Morpheus’ face again.

They ate in peaceful silence for a while, then Morpheus spoke.

“Your work. Does it make you happy?”

“Yeah,” Hob nodded after a sip of hot chocolate. “Being a professor gives me access to entire fields of knowledge, so apart from teaching, I also learn a lot. And younger folk have a lot of potential, especially since they have a less jaded mindset about life compared to most adults. You know how I always find reasons to live. I like to believe that teaching allows me to help others find those reasons, too.”

Morpheus was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, and for a second Hob wondered if he had rambled too much. But then his friend smiled, the usual small smile that curved his lips in a way that was now so familiar to Hob.

“I am glad to see that your work makes you happy.” Morpheus glanced down at his plate for a moment, and his face turned a little wistful. “I do not know now what my purpose should be. Without my work in the Dreaming I have no function. I feel as if I am a broken compass.” His voice faded out, and his face looked like he was ashamed to even admit such things.

“Hey,” Hob said gently. “You’re much more than your function, Morpheus. Even if you don’t work in the Dreaming anymore, it doesn’t mean you’re broken, or any less you. And you know, that’s very human. Not knowing what your purpose in life is. I’d be lying if I said that I had never felt lost before. We can figure things out, don’t worry.”

Morpheus looked up at him. “We?”

“Yeah,” Hob tapped his foot nervously under the table. A part of him worried that he might be coming on too strong, but he decided to trust that Morpheus wouldn’t storm off even if he were. Besides, he wanted to be there for his friend. “You don’t have to figure it out on your own.”

The fond look alone that Morpheus gave him was worth the risk of expressing that sentiment.

“Sleeping is… more restful, than I had anticipated,” Morpheus said while idly moving around the last piece of the pancake on his plate with a fork. “When I was Dream Lord, my version of rest had always meant that I could sense the dreams in my realm. Sleeping without anything else to occupy my mind felt more comfortable, and I find that I prefer it.” His eyes met Hob’s. “It is good. Not being on my own.”

Hob could only smile as he looked right back at Morpheus. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

***

Most of the day was spent lounging on the couch while scouring the internet for hobbies and careers that might interest Morpheus, and eating pepperoni and mushroom pizza that Hob ordered.

Hob realised at some point that he and Morpheus were leaning against each other as they looked at his laptop screen. He had no complaints at all, and it seemed like neither did Morpheus.

Morpheus must have noticed Hob staring at him, because he looked over questioningly after taking a bite of pizza.

“Yes?” he asked with the piece of pizza between his teeth.

Hob had to bite back a smile that he was sure would have looked glaringly affectionate. “Is pizza also something you'd like to have again?”

Morpheus nodded. “It is. I do like this flavour, and I believe I would like to try other flavours as well.” He finished the slice and returned to looking at the laptop screen where they had compiled a list of nearby libraries that he wanted to visit.

By the end of the day, they had lists of different careers and hobbies that Morpheus would be interested in trying.

The conversation over dinner was the most relaxed and casual one they’d ever had. No century recaps from Hob, no vague mysterious answers from Morpheus. It really felt like they were old friends. And when it was time for bed, it only felt natural when Morpheus snuggled against Hob’s chest once more as they both fell asleep.

***

One of the perks of having been alive for so long was that Hob knew exactly how to create a fake identity. In every century there were always people who could forge legal documents and didn’t ask too many questions as long as one paid generously.

And so by next week Morpheus had a job at the library a short walk from The New Inn. It doubled as a coffee shop, and for the next several days Hob visited after his work, grading essays and exams on one of the tables while waiting for Morpheus to finish his shift.

Morpheus arched an eyebrow at him the first time, saying that he didn't need to be fetched like a child. But Hob had said that he liked the coffee there, and he wouldn't be distracted by his telly while he graded papers. Morpheus relented after Hob had bought him a chocolate éclair and an iced caramel macchiato.

On Saturday afternoon, Hob was surprised to see that Morpheus was waiting for him outside the university, holding a to-go cup and a paper bag with the cafe’s logo on it.

“To return the favour,” Morpheus said while handing the items to Hob. It was a cup of Earl Grey according to the label, and the small paper bag had a Danish pastry in it.

Hob smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” He took a sip of the tea.

“You did not want to go to that orientation this afternoon, and I thought you might appreciate your usual pastry and beverage after that ordeal,” Morpheus said as they started walking towards the bus stop.

“I do appreciate it. Thank you, love.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly in curiosity. “Do you call all your friends that?”

“What?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows.

“Love.”

Hob felt his face warm. He didn’t realise he had let the endearment slip again. “Oh, um,” he cleared his throat. “No, not really. Do you mind it? I can stop saying that if it makes you uncomfortable.” Though he wasn’t sure how he could stop if he wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

There was the sound of brakes squealing and a bus stopped in front of them. They got on after some passengers went out, and found seats near the back.

Hob waited for Morpheus to sit first before he did; he knew by now that Morpheus preferred the window seat.

“I do not,” Morpheus said when the bus started moving again.

“Hm? Do not what?”

“Mind. When you call me love,” Morpheus said, looking right at him.

Hob’s breath hitched, and he was suddenly aware of how close they were to each other.

A loud horn sounded as a car suddenly cut in front of the bus. The driver swore loudly and righted the bus again after a slight swerve.

“I hope you’ve gotten used to public transport by now,” Hob said. “You could always get a licence if you’d prefer to drive. Shame you can’t teleport anymore, eh?”

Morpheus looked out the window onto the passing traffic. “Indeed.”

***

After dinner, Hob had his laptop open on the dining table to finalise the next month’s lesson plan. He had just about finished when Morpheus sat beside him.

“Hob. I am in need of your input about a story that I am writing. Are you currently available to listen to it?”

“You’re writing a story?” Hob practically beamed at him. He hit save on the document he was editing and closed his laptop. “Yeah, let’s hear it.”

His enthusiasm was rewarded by a fond smile from Morpheus. “After helping many young people find books at my work and volunteering on Read-Aloud Day for children, I realised that I wanted to create a story myself. I created dreams and nightmares for eons, but I had not before used only words.”

“Well I know I’d love to read any work from the Prince of Stories,” Hob grinned. “What’s the story about?”

“I wanted to try my hand at writing a children’s story, featuring two animals who go on an adventure together. Such stories often make the children at the library happy, and I endeavour to be able to create one.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Hob smiled.

Morpheus frowned like he didn’t quite understand it.

“What?” Hob teased. “It is very sweet whether or not you admit it.”

Morpheus rolled his eyes but there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“What can I help you with?” Hob asked in anticipation.

“I found myself stuck on how to write the ending. I was wondering if you would have any ideas.”

“Of course, I’d love to help. How does the story go?”

“The protagonists are a raven and a wolf. Early in the story, the raven’s wings became injured, and he was unable to fly. He formed a friendship with a wolf, and they spent their days together, with the wolf teaching the raven the joys of life on land. But the raven carried a secret. His wings had healed some time ago, and yet he had not told his friend. He feared that if the wolf knew he could fly again, he would be expected to go back to the forests, and it would be the end of their companionship.” Morpheus stopped speaking, and there was a hint of nervousness in his expression that most people wouldn’t have noticed.

“Okay, and that’s where you’re stuck at?” Hob asked gently. It must be frustrating for Morpheus to be experiencing writer’s block for the first time.

Morpheus met his eyes. “Do you think the wolf would be angry, to have been deceived so?”

“I don’t think so,” Hob furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. “When the raven tells him the truth, I think his reaction would be to reassure his friend that nothing would change in their friendship. Though you might want to write the wolf saying he would appreciate more honesty in the future, that friendship is built on trust and all that, especially since it’s a children’s book. I’m not imposing on how you should write your story,” Hob clarified quickly. “It’s just a suggestion. The wolf could promise honesty from himself, too.”

“You would prefer full honesty in a friendship, is that correct?”

“Hm? Me? Yeah, of course. I don’t know how your characters think, though. It’s still always up to you how you would write them.”

Morpheus just stared at him for a few moments, then a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Your obliviousness is endearing.”

Hob blinked. Did Morpheus just call him endearing? Wait. “Obliviousness?”

“I can teleport, Hob.” Morpheus looked at him intently, as if gauging his reaction.

Oh. God, I’m an idiot, Hob thought as realisation dawned on him. The character in the story was a bloody raven too, one of Morpheus’ symbols.

“I tried it after my first day working at the library,” Morpheus averted his eyes. “In hindsight, I doubt that I was ever incapable of it. I never felt its absence, even if I am not the Dreamlord anymore.”

“Morpheus, love.” Hob turned in his seat to fully face him.

Morpheus looked at him again.

“Did you think I was going to send you away just because you can still teleport? I would never do that. We’ve spent some days chatting here after you first came back, right? When the Inn was too crowded? Your powers make no difference to me.”

Morpheus nodded. “I am aware. But… I like taking public transport. With you. It allows us to spend more time together.”

Hob’s mouth opened as he stared at Morpheus. A warm feeling began to spread in his chest and reached his face. “Why didn’t you just say so? Haven’t I said enough that I enjoy your company?” He almost reached out to touch Morpheus’ hand, but he held himself together.

Morpheus looked down as if embarrassed. “I am not certain… what the appropriate length of time is to spend among friends. That is what we are, correct?” He met Hob’s eyes.

“Of course. You’re my dearest friend, Morpheus. Nobody understands me like you do, and—” Hob stopped himself, it wouldn’t do to suddenly bombard Morpheus with six centuries’ worth of feelings. “And I hope I’ve proven myself to be the kind of friend that you can trust with those things. Being honest won’t drive me away from you.”

“And you would promise the same honesty to me?”

“I would. I do,” Hob said sincerely.

“Then answer me this. Why do you call me ‘love’? You had never done so before.”

“I…” The way Morpheus was looking at him made it very difficult to think of words. “I didn’t think you’d like it much. You did storm away when I said we were friends, so…” he chuckled nervously.

Morpheus was silent for a few moments. “I did. I walked down the street in the rain when I could have teleported away.”

Hob fell quiet too as he realised it. At the time, he had been so distressed that it didn’t even occur to him. But yes, if Morpheus really was that upset, he could have used his magic to get away as fast as possible.

“Just like how I walked away from your door that first morning, instead of using my powers to leave.”

“What are you saying…?” Hob felt that he almost understood, but it was like his mind couldn’t quite comprehend it.

“I wanted you to follow me.” Morpheus’ voice was so quiet that Hob wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Just like I did in 1889.” Morpheus looked at him then, an open and vulnerable expression on his face that Hob felt honoured to see.

“You…” So many thoughts and questions were swirling around in Hob’s mind that it was hard to focus on just one.

“I had not realised it myself. Until I saw that you were following me. That day at the park. I felt… relieved.”

“But I didn’t follow you in 1889…” Hob said with a sinking feeling. What would have happened then, if he had only closed those last few steps of distance between them?

“You did,” Morpheus said with a small smile. “You followed me out of The White Horse. It was I who had kept walking away. And for that I am sorry.”

“Hey, you already apologised for that. It’s all good now. And we can still totally take public transport if that’s what you really want. But we can also hang out even when we’re not commuting, you know? Like at the café, or even here, and eat inadvisable amounts of pizza.”

Morpheus’ smile became much more relaxed. “You are very good to me. I do not know what I have done to deserve it.”

“I care a lot about you, Morpheus. You don’t need to do anything for me to feel that way. You will always have it.” You will always have me.

“I care a great deal about you as well, Hob Gadling,” Morpheus leaned forward in his seat, his voice soft and low. “I am sorry it took me this long to realise it. Love.” He reached up and touched Hob’s face, just the gentlest caress of his fingertips from Hob’s cheekbone down to his jawline.

“Morpheus,” Hob breathed. The touch set his skin alight, Morpheus’ cool fingers sending flames licking down to his nerve endings.

Time slowed down as Morpheus leaned even closer, his hand drifting down to the side of Hob’s neck, never more than a gentle touch.

Hob’s heart was hammering in his ribcage, as if it sensed how close Morpheus was and wanted to bridge the gap between them.

Questioning blue eyes met his, and Hob realised that Morpheus was waiting for his permission. He would readily give it, if his chest didn’t ache with anticipation and made words an impossible endeavour.

He grabbed the front of Morpheus’ shirt and pulled him close, leaning forward to meet him.

The feeling of Morpheus’ soft lips took his breath away. In the back of his mind he wondered if he was dreaming—it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d have dreamt of kissing Morpheus. But Morpheus’ hand on the back of his neck was a grounding presence, and the slide of their lips against each other felt leagues better than any dream he’d ever had.

Morpheus’ tongue brushed against his lower lip, and his breath came out in a shiver as his mouth opened to welcome Morpheus in.

By the time they parted, they were both out of breath. But they still clung to each other, hands at their faces and their foreheads pressed together.

“In the spirit of honesty,” Morpheus began, still catching his breath. “I admittedly worried that you would not feel the same way.”

“What?” Hob actually pulled back in surprise, but he held Morpheus’ hand. “Are you kidding me? I’d been dreaming about this for centuries.”

“You have?” Morpheus looked just as surprised.

“Yeah,” Hob tugged his ear as he smiled bashfully. “When I asked if you wanted to go to another pub in 1789, I was hoping maybe I could… I dunno, ask if you wanted to meet more than once a century. I tried again in 1889 but…” he shrugged.

Morpheus put his hand over Hob’s. “I am sorry to have wasted so much time. But now I promise that you will have me for as long as you wish.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing it. And don’t worry about before, we have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

Morpheus smiled. “Indeed we do.”

They went to bed together as they had many times before. But now Morpheus pulled Hob into his embrace, and asked if he would like to hear the entire story of the raven and the wolf, now that it had a proper ending.

And so it was that Hob lay on Morpheus’ chest with his arm around his slender form, falling asleep to the soft rumble of Morpheus’ voice as he told the story of the changed raven and the loyal wolf.

---

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