Frenchie begins the ceremony with a surprisingly moving speech on celebrating love in all its different forms, during which Stede lays his hand over Ed’s where it’s resting on his thigh and squeezes. Then, Lucius and Pete read vows that they’ve written themselves, and no Ed is absolutely not crying, human eyes are just weaker and generally inferior to dragon eyes. More prone to malfunctioning in the face of deep, genuine love and joy. When Lucius and Pete exchange rings, Ed can’t help but look down at his and Stede’s interlaced hands, fiddling unconsciously with one of the decorative rings on his finger. He wonders what their hands would look like together with matching rings – gold, he thinks, with a purple stone. Or maybe something more colourful for Stede, the living rainbow of a man he is.
Ed has been with his runaway prince of a boyfriend, Stede, for a couple of years now. A friend's wedding changes everything he thought he knew about human marriage, and he wonders, could he ever be called Stede's husband?
(Written for OFMD AU-gust 2024 Day 14: Fantasy)
Read here!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Little panel redraw of the Dead Boy Detectives from Books of Magic v3 #23 (2020) but as the Netflix versions. I’d definitely recommend reading BoM. The boys only appear briefly at the end of v3 but it’s very funny and silly!
Square: E2 - Creature: Feline
Title: Confessions of a Cat
Rating: T
Wordcount: 1803
Ship(s): Dream/Hob
Warnings: None
Additional tags: Canon Compliant, Fluff, First Kiss, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Actual Cat Dream of the Endless | Morpheus
Summary:
“Y’know,” Hob mused, his hand pausing in its motions and moving from the cat to help him type more quickly. The cat clearly disapproved of this. It shifted even closer to Hob, lifting its head up to rest on top of his arm and nuzzle against his hand. Hob chuckled, losing his train of thought as he twisted his hand around to continue petting the cat. “You’re a needy one, aren’t you? For a cat that kept hissing at passersby, you’re really enjoying the attention now.”
If Hob didn’t know any better, he’d say that the bloody cat huffed at him. Regardless, it didn’t stop snuggling into him and purring like an engine.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44837083
(written for @dreamlingbingo <3)
Fic posted under the cut!
Hob stared at the guest relaxing by the door to the New Inn.
The cat stared back impassively.
“Um,” said Hob intelligently. On occasion, there would be the odd cat that hung around the back door of the New Inn hunting for scraps. Never in Hob’s life had he seen a cat like this, though. It was a massive creature, all thick, sleek black fur and piercing eyes. He felt like it was staring directly into his soul as it licked the back of its paw. Something about the cat was strangely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why. “Hello?”
Perhaps against his better judgement, Hob held out his hand to the cat. It was massive, yes, and a bit intimidating. That didn’t mean it wasn’t friendly. After all, it looked well-groomed and taken care of, so maybe it belonged to one of the houses in the area.
To his surprise, the cat rose from where it had settled itself beneath one of the outside picnic tables and, with a big stretch, leapt on top of it so it could bump its head against Hob’s hand. Hob grinned. As he scratched behind the cat’s ears, it let out a rumbling purr, pushing further into Hob’s touch like it couldn’t get enough of it.
“Oh, aren’t you lovely? Such a handsome cat,” Hob cooed, stroking down the cat’s body. He’d always had a love-hate relationship with cats in the past. As cute as they could be, you could never quite predict what their next move was. One minute they could be purring up a storm, and the next they could be scratching you and bolting away before you had time to blink. He hoped this cat would continue to be kind. It was beautiful and regal, its fur so soft and silky that Hob wanted to gather the cat up in his arms and hug it tightly (which, in past experiences, he knew would be a recipe for disaster).
A few people stopped by the door as they came and went from the inn to see what all the fuss was about. Upon seeing the cat, they would gasp and stretch out to stroke it. However, instead of accepting the pets, the cat would raise its hackles and hiss at them until they left it alone.
The weirdest thing was that it would then turn back to (an understandably wary) Hob and nuzzle back against his hand, demanding more attention.
What a strange cat, indeed.
Eventually, Hob was brought back to reality when a particularly chilly breeze sent a shiver down his body. Right, there was a warm flat and a hot drink waiting for him upstairs after his frosty walk home (and, less appealingly, the unfortunate necessity of having to spend the evening grading essays).
He gave the cat a final pat on the head and dropped his hand, trying not to feel guilty when it looked at him in what almost seemed like disappointment. “Sorry,” he said to the cat, immediately feeling stupid at apologising to a cat of all things. Well, it was probably for the best. They could be vengeful little buggers. “I should be getting inside now. You should go home.”
Hob wandered over to the door to his flat at the side of the inn and unlocked it. As soon as he began to push it open, he felt a large, fluffy body weave through his legs and watched, slack-jawed, as the cat trotted up the stairs without looking back. For a moment, he glanced around helplessly, unsure where to go from here. It wasn’t his cat! He shouldn’t just be letting random cats into his flat, right?
Any thoughts of kicking the cat out vanished when he entered his living room and found the cat curled up amongst the cushions on his sofa. His heart melted. With how cold it was outside, he didn’t blame it for seeking out the nearest warmth. Since it had been nothing but friendly with him, Hob decided to let it stay for the evening, at least.
Hob left the room to hang up his bag and coat and get changed into more comfortable clothes. Then, after brewing himself a cup of tea and grabbing his laptop, he returned to the living room and plopped onto the sofa next to the cat. It lifted its head from where it had been resting on its paws to blink at him slowly. Its eyes were unusual, upon closer look. Dark as obsidian with pinpricks of light glinting in its dilated pupils.
As he mulled that thought over, he booted up his laptop and opened up the folder of essays to begin marking. His free hand drifted to the cat at his side, absentmindedly scritching at its head. Its deep purr was even louder in the quiet of Hob’s flat, rolling thunder a gentle vibration against his leg as the cat pressed itself closer to him.
“Y’know,” Hob mused, his hand pausing in its motions and moving from the cat to help him type more quickly. The cat clearly disapproved of this. It shifted even closer to Hob, lifting its head up to rest on top of his arm and nuzzle against his hand. Hob chuckled, losing his train of thought as he twisted his hand around to continue petting the cat. “You’re a needy one, aren’t you? For a cat that kept hissing at passersby, you’re really enjoying the attention now.”
If Hob didn’t know any better, he’d say that the bloody cat huffed at him. Regardless, it didn’t stop snuggling into him and purring like an engine.
“What was I saying before?” Hob hummed. When the cat looked up at him again with that intense gaze, it came back to him in a rush. “Oh yeah! That’s it. You remind me of a friend of mine, if he was a cat. Kind of, at least.” He paused to consider, scratching underneath the cat’s chin. “His eyes are so much like yours. The kind of eyes that look like a night sky. Jesus Christ, I could only dream of him being this affectionate though.” Caught up in his ramble, Hob didn’t notice the way the cat stiffened slightly, its purrs tapering off. “Sure, he’s been less elusive since I finally saw him in the summer and he told me his name, but I can never tell what he’s thinking! He just turns up whenever he pleases – which is every other week or so now, so I can’t complain too much – and we go out for a drink or food or whatever and have a good chat whilst I try to work out if he’d let me hold his hand, then before I can ask him if he wants to come back to mine or if he’d class these outings as ‘dates’, he just fucks off again!” He sighed heavily, head flopping against the back of the sofa. “Ugh. Why am I venting to a cat of all things? I swear to God, Dream is driving me fucking insane.”
“I didn’t realise you felt that way about me, Hob Gadling.”
Hob let out a very unmanly screech, shooting to his feet and toppling his laptop and the cat off from where it had climbed half into his lap onto the floor.
“The fuck? Dream?”
To Hob’s horror, the cat hopped back up onto the sofa, levelled him with an all-too-familiar stare, and spoke. “Yes, that’s me. You were saying?”
Hob gaped at him. “You’re a cat?”
“To some,” said Dream, sounding a little more impatient. Had Hob not been in such a state of shock, he would have chastised him for yet another vague answer to his questions. “Perhaps you will find this conversation less baffling if I transform back into my human body.”
There was a flash that caused Hob to automatically shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, Dream – the tall, handsome, human-shaped being Dream – was now sitting where the cat had been.
“Now, might you elaborate on what you were saying before in regards to our meetups?”
“Well, I, uh–” Hob spluttered, before getting a hold of himself in a sudden burst of agitation. “You know what! No! How about you tell me why you were slinking around my home as a cat demanding my attention and affection?”
Dream pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing into a frown. He’d clearly not expected that response. Hob delighted in watching the cogs turn in his brain to figure out how to reply without revealing too much.
“Is it true that you wish for me to be more affectionate with you?”
Hob threw his hands up in the air, defeated. He collapsed back onto the sofa beside Dream. “Guess I did say that, didn’t I? I’d like that a lot, yeah. Though as nice and soft as you are in cat form, I’d like it even more if you were in this form.”
“And, you want us to go out on… dates?”
Hob closed his eyes briefly and took a breath to contemplate his life’s choices up until now. “Yes, Dream, I want us to go on dates, if you would be interested. But it’s fine if you’re not.”
Glancing over at Dream, Hob found him looking somewhat thrown off guard. When he took too long to respond, Hob decided to gently press him further.
“Dream, why did you come here?”
“I wanted…” Dream trailed off. “I wanted the same as you, I suppose. I just didn’t know how to ask for it.”
“So you’re telling me that you barged your way into my flat and cuddled up to me pretending to be a real cat because you didn’t know how to ask me to, fuck I don’t know, give you a hug?”
“And more. I want more than that.”
“Yeah?” Hob raised his eyebrows, not suppressing the grin that was beginning to creep onto his lips. He leant closer to Dream – just a little – and was pleased when Dream leant towards him too. “What else do you want?”
Something flashed in Dream’s eyes. “This.” With no other warning, Dream framed Hob’s face with his hands and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Hob’s surprised noise was muffled against Dream’s lips, but he quickly sank into it, clutching at the front of Dream’s shirt like a lifeline. When they eventually broke apart, Hob could feel the warm blush on his cheeks.
“Yeah, I want that too,” Hob murmured, smiling under the heat of Dream’s searching gaze. “For as long as you’re willing to give it to me.”
A purr rumbled in the back of Dream’s throat as he nudged his forehead against Hob’s. “Then, you’ll find that we’ll be together for a very long time.” Hob’s smile only grew bigger.
Hi Mr. Gaiman! A question suddenly popped into my mind, and it's not making me sleep at all! In the Good Omens TV show, you added the final twist about the bodyswap. But is it really a bodyswap? How come when they shake hands to swap back, we see an external change? If the outward apparence is the one that changes, wouldn't that indicate that Aziraphale simply took Crowley's appearance, and Crowley took Aziraphale's? Because if Crowley and Aziraphale truly swapped bodies, the real change would be just internal and not visible to the eye, so swapping back wouldn't be truly visible. Does this make sense? Am I overthinking stuff? (I probably am)
I always thought it was more of a corporation swapping/mutual borrowing, like taking off a glove and giving it to the other to put on because they don't change their positions on the bench.
Aziraphale as Crowley sits on the right and after the swap, he is still on the right (same with Crowley on the left obviously). If they had switched from one corporation to the other, he would have sat on the left, in Crowley's place, and moved to his body on the right (and the effect wouldn't have looked as cool on the screen).
But if they are only changing their appearance, why do they need to hold hands at all?
Aziraphale literally said "swap back, then" so what did they swap?
Their appearances. (That's why I said above that it was an appearance swap.)
Why do they need to hold hands? Because it's more than an illusion, because it needed to fool angels and demons who aren't fooled easily. Big miracle energy. And anyway, they like holding hands.
Dream big or go home! This is my take on big Dream. Little, silly thing. Dream would give Hob worlds on a string as if they were pearls, ofc he would indulge him a bit, right?
(Btw I haven’t drawn for ages, so you’re witnessing me relearning everything, but I’m here to have fun, so let’s go)
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear
stormborns
snowghoul
prguitarman
kaledo-art
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
andulkaphoto
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
