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#i was watching the sandman when the idea came to me
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I made some adjustments to this meme so check it out <3
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weirdbabs · 2 years
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i used to enjoy netflix’s model of just dropping whole seasons at once bc i am generally pretty bad at keeping up with shows when theyre released weekly, so its nice to know when im starting it that i dont have to worry about catching up and then just. never watching again for some reason, missing out on plot details and such
but as ive gotten older i like it less and less bc if you want fandom engagement, youre going to want to release it on a weekly basis. you can see how many people tune in, people talk about it and make their silly posts, which in turn can help draw others in. plus having it on a weekly basis helps draw out the hype. you know for a fact people will be talking about your show for at least however many weeks its airing, which means it will be in the spotlight. plus when its a weekly release everyone is able to talk freely out the episodes bc you dont have to worry about where they are in the show. you can look at posts not having to worry about spoilers bc like. unless there are leaks, what youre going to be seeing is purely speculative
idk, i know netflix has been doing some weekly releases for some of their shows and delayed releases for others but like. i think they need to go towards a model of weekly releases
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withoutyouimsaskia · 5 months
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Don't Stop (Sandman One-Shot)
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​GIF: Originally posted by @imironstark
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Smut. You and Morpheus are in the exploratory stages of your relationship. Morpheus asks to worship you, and all is going well. At least, that is, until you start to wake up...
Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut. Porn with plot. Kissing. Oral sex (AFAB receiving). Slight dominant Morpheus.
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: So I watched Sweetbitter. With my partner. Maybe not the best idea because suppressing the squeaks of excitement whenever Tom came on screen was tough and not always 100% effective! The hyper fixation is still going strong... Hope you enjoy this one. All my love, Saskia xxx
Sandman Masterlist
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It is only when the violent spinning not only stops but holds for several minutes after, does Morpheus make steps in allowing his guard to drop.
He straightens elegantly out of his crouching position, withdrawing his hands from the scree smattered earth. He looks to his left, to Lucienne, who is warily regarding the ground and sky, wondering if they might start to rapidly switch places again.
She meets Morpheus' gaze and adjusts her round-framed spectacles with a steady hand.
"I might be speaking too soon, sir, but I truly think it is over now."
Morpheus takes one last steely appraisal of the horizon, almost daring it to misbehave.
He nods once. "I believe you are correct, Lucienne."
"Will you be requiring anything else from me, my lord?"
"Not at present."
"Very well," Lucienne replies with a warm smile. "I will return to the palace now."
She does a little incline of the head in deference and goes to start the winding walk back towards the glowing lights of the Dreaming's seat of power.
Morpheus calls to his friend.
"I thank you for your persistence in supporting me to resolve these issues. I suggest you take some extra hours to rest."
"I suggest you do the same, sir."
Though her reply is innocuous, the knowing gleam in Lucienne's brown eyes hints at an alternative interpretation, one that Morpheus cannot help but notice.
It was becoming generally well known that he was in the early stages of courtship with a dreamer, you, and there was no doubt that Lucienne was aware of how far the relationship with you had recently gone.
He raises an eyebrow in response, earning a grin from Lucienne and then he watches her walk away.
Once alone, Morpheus allows his eyes to flutter closed as he sifts through the myriad of dormant minds and tunes into the space occupied by yours. He takes a reading of your emotions, thankful to find that you are contented and have not been rendered feeling neglected by his absence.
There's a faint undercurrent lingering below the surface level of your emotions that he is also able to lock on to given the familiarity that you share.
Desire.
They are present, filling you with neediness and longing.
A longing to be touched, to be touched by him.
Morpheus is with you in seconds, appearing in the doorway of the room you have chosen to conceal yourself in.
You are curled up in a large armchair by a panoramic window that frames the mountainous vista beyond. The torches that mark equidistant points along the bridge leading to the palace project a soft gleaming warmth over your skin. You are gazing softly at the landscape, the fingertips of one hand combing through your hair, the others trailing up and down your inner thigh.
Such an innocent yet provocative display. It makes Morpheus' voice drop to an even deeper and more sultry register than usual as he calls to you.
You are out of the chair instantly, meeting him at the threshold of the room. Your heart pumps out an allegro drum beat, the sound of the blood rushing in your ears like a waterfall.
You are pulled into a searing kiss, arms encircle your waist to ensure you are flush against his hips and chest. It is a relief that he is holding you in such a way for your knees are threatening to give out within seconds.
The power he has, in his body, his actions, through his words, in a metaphysical sense; you are helpless against them all.
When Morpheus pulls away from the kiss, you follow him on instinct, aching for more. He smiles faintly at your eagerness but maintains the gap in order to explain his length of absence.
"I must apologise, Y/N. The issue was a little more complex than Lucienne and I had anticipated."
He's looking down with a tint of shame in his aquamarine eyes.
You slide your hands up his forearms, gripping tightly and angling your head so you can capture his gaze.
"There is nothing to be sorry for. Your work and the safety of your dreamers take priority."
He simply nods. Your unwavering understanding is always on the side of overwhelming for him.
You register this in his stance.
"You feel a little tense. I can help with that if you want. Like I did last night?"
You move a hand up to stroke the hair on the back of his head. It is a form of touch that never fails to release tension.
Morpheus indulges in your attentions for a bit, leaning into you and sighing deeply, before staring at you directly with sudden seriousness.
"I cannot deny that what you did for me yesterday was beyond exquisite," He leans in to speak by your ear. "But it is my turn to worship you."
"Oh," You swallow down your surprise. "Okay."
Morpheus wastes no time in guiding you back towards the armchair and sits you on the very edge of the seat pad.
He carefully removes his long sweeping coat and then drops to his knees before you.
His rosy lips are parted, eyes dark pools, both standing out against his beautifully pale skin.
"Where can I touch you?" He asks urgently.
"Everywhere," You reply as the flutterings in your stomach warble your voice.
He begins by trailing his hands up your legs. The patterns he draws are intricate and intoxicating.
"May I have the honour of tasting you?"
"Yes," You consent, breathless already.
You remove your trousers and underwear in the same movement and allow Morpheus to adjust your position.
The image of him looking up at you with lust and intent as he parts your legs is immediately imprinted deep within your memories.
He trails innocent kisses up your left calf to your knee. A long-fingered hand is hooked under it and once Morpheus slips your leg over his shoulder, he continues his path along your inner thigh.
Wisps of his midnight hair tickle your skin and make you squirm in the most delicious way. You whimper when you feel his cool breath hit your pulsing core.
Morpheus speaks your name reverently, a taster of what was about to come.
He leans in the last few inches and kisses your vulva. You melt with an ecstasy-filled exhale. His tongue gently licks at your labia, encouraging them to part and expose your clit. He laps at you with precise strokes before sealing his mouth over the nub.
It's like a direct current has been shot into your body; you jolt into him, moaning his name with abandon.
He hums against you, lips curling into a naughty smirk. You are completely at his mercy and he knows it all too well.
He manipulates your clit between his plush lips and the pleasure reaches a higher ground.
"Whatever you do, please don't stop," You beg.
Morpheus obeys, slowly increasing and decreasing the pressure of his suckling until you are almost unable to think clearly anymore.
Then, suddenly, you are distracted by a strange feeling radiating through your body. You recognise it with immediacy. It's like you are being dragged upwards by a marionette string. You are waking up.
You stiffen, falling silent, hoping above all hope that if you stay still, you can stave off the pull back to consciousness.
Morpheus, noticing your change in demeanour, stops his attentions and pulls away.
He speaks your name in a caring tone. "Are you alright?"
You grab the arm rests in a further attempt to keep yourself in the Dreaming. The sensation isn't letting up.
You respond with haste, "I think I'm waking up. I don't think I can stop it."
Waking had been the cause of cutting short your time with Morpheus many times before. It was to be expected; you were a human being with things like sunlight and birdsong and routines to contend with. The worst had been mid-way through a conversation, one that you were able to pick up again the next time you passed the Dreaming threshold.
Right here while Morpheus was working on you so perfectly, however left you with one thought: Why did it have to be now?
Your surroundings flicker and all sound becomes warped. The support of Morpheus' body and the chair vanish.
"I'm sorry." They are the last words you speak before you disappear.
You come to in the semi-darkness of your bedroom. Your chest is heaving and wetness has spilled onto your pyjamas from the dream of Morpheus lavishing your aroused core.
Your phone is blasting out a morning alarm, its shrillness the clear root of you disappearing on him.
It turns out though, initially unknown to you, that Morpheus was having none of this separation business. That is until you notice him sitting between your splayed legs.
"Morpheus?! What are you -"
"You asked me not to stop, my dearest dreamer," He interrupts, pouring every ounce of seductive energy into the words as he can muster.
Morpheus' eyes bore into yours as he climbs up to fully straddle your body. He reaches over you to turn off the alarm with a precise tap on the screen of your phone. He takes a deep breath.
"Much better," He purrs. The pitch of his voice is pleasure enough on its own, even without the fact that his hips are subtly grinding against yours.
"Now, would you like to resume with what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted by that repugnant tone?"
You nod.
"Verbal consent, please."
It's suddenly so hard to speak now he is in your bedroom, your domain. You hope that a clear display will be an acceptable alternative. You reach your hands down to rid yourself of your pyjamas only to have each wrist pinned either side of your head.
You gasp.
"I need to hear you say it out loud, Y/N."
Another wave of hot, stifling arousal is released between your legs. You shiver in reaction to it, to his dominance.
Your mouth is open but no coherent words leave it, just the starts of failed sentences. Morpheus comes to your aid:
"Will you allow me to taste you here, in the waking world, just as I did in my own realm?"
"Yes," You breathe. "Yes, Morpheus. Please. Put your mouth on me."
He hums his approval before lowering your shorts and beginning to feast on you once more.
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Tag List: @herfantasyworldd @shadowqueen1318
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neil-gaiman · 10 months
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Hi, Niel. I’ve been a fan of your work for a long time now. I appreciate everything you do, as an artist and as an activist. I’m writing you about a problem I’m having with one of your works. It’s nothing to do with the work itself but my own personal context surrounding it.
My best friend of ten years loved Coraline. It was probably her favorite thing of all the things in the world. She had no idea there was a book, only that she loved the movie. I gave her my childhood copy of Coraline to read and, though she wasn’t much of a reader, she loved it. From there, I encouraged her to read more of your work. As much as she like Sandman or the Graveyard Book, she always came back to Coraline.
Cut to today. My friend of ten years has abandoned me. To make a long, painful story short, she turned her back on me after my mother’s murder, a time when I needed her most. She made sure to tell me that she never loved me, that she never wanted to be my friend all these years, that she did it because she felt sorry for me and that I’ve always been an annoyance and a burden to her.
It was hard to take, to say the least. This leads me to the problem I’m having.
I can’t stand to look at anything related to Coraline anymore. As much as I love it too, it fills me with dread to see it, because all I can think about is how badly I want to share it with my friend. I love giving gifts to the people that are important to me. I would gift my friend every Coraline related item I would see. And now, seeing the dolls, the bags and pins, and of course watching anything from the movie, makes me want to break down all over again.
It’s been almost a year since this happened but my heart still hurts when I see that yellow rain coat. I guess I’m telling you all of this because I want to know if you have any advice. I can never see my old friend again. She’s gone from my life completely but, pieces of her still haunt me.
I want to be able to watch Coraline again without crying. I want to read the book and not feel like I’m this tremendously horrible person that doesn’t deserve anyone’s friendship. I just don’t know how to go about healing that.
Thank you for your time, Niel. I hope that you’re well.
You aren't a horrible person.
I'm sorry that your friend wasn't worthy of your friendship. Friendships that fade and end often hurt worse than romantic heartbreak, because they don't end cleanly, because decades later you still aren't sure why a friendship ended.
I'm sorry about the fallout, too. As you say, the ghosts of the friends we once had still haunt us.
Coraline will always be there, when you need it, when you need her.
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in-hav3n · 3 months
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 ✮ 𝓘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
❘❘ NSFW - sex scene - unprotected sex - age gap
Here's finally the 4th part! Took me ages to finalize this but seriously I wanted to write a good smut, and wrote something I haven't done before so I hope you'll like it as much as I do. Thanks for all the kind and lovely words I receive everyday from many of you and for all the positive comments about this serie. Love you all and enjoy &lt;3
Previous parts
Standing on one of the VIP platforms, with a shoulder leaned against one of the metallic poles, you were enjoying your 5th Metallica show since the beginning of M72 Tour. The staff only needed help before and after the show, offering to roadies free time in between to do whatever they wanted to do. No matter how many times you'd watch it, each time was different. It wasn't the same setlist, neither the same atmosphere or energy coming from the crowd but tonight, the show was different and for another reason. 
Each time your eyes landed on James, butterflies were tickling your lower belly and your lips couldn't stop forming a smile. The way he was moving around the stage, playing his riffs or just interacting with the fans, everything was absolutely captivating. You couldn't stop admiring him, still not believing you both shared something last night. You were probably looking silly, smiling like an idiot, but you didn't care. You were in your own bubble, enjoying these amazing feelings you didn't experienced for a long time now. 
After being alone for a while, you had to admit it was truly pleasant to have someone being attracted by you. Of course, you didn’t forget you had to be careful and shouldn’t put on too much hopes in that little adventure. You were just a roadie, he was a rockstar. Nothing else would come up out of these two nights you'll spend with him. Was it bad to enjoy it then? Absolutely not, and you decided to take your chance. 
But what to expect tonight? That was a million-dollar question. You had absolutely no idea. He said he wanted to spend more time with you and he was the one that came back in the first place. You didn't run after him like a crazy groupie. He did the first step and asked to see you again. A little voice inside you dared to say this may be positive...but still, better be careful.
Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and get your attention off from the show. Another smile crossed your lips as you read the message coming from your best friend. "Go on girl! Take care and carpe diem! Love ya <3". Of course, you had to tell her what happened earlier in the backstage and seeing she was as excited as you were made you feel more confident about all this. 
The show went on and a few minutes before the last part of "Enter Sandman", which was the last song they'd play, you left your point of view to run into the backstage area. You didn't really know where to meet James - even if you assumed he meant at his hotel room for more discretion - but you wanted to tell him you couldn't join him now. You had some tasks to do before you were allowed to leave the stadium. You waited maybe ten minutes or more, pacing around near his door. You knew the band was spending a bit of time around the stage for the fans and you didn’t mind waiting. 
Suddenly you heard some heavy steps and voices echoing. You got up, recognizing the voices, and saw a sweaty James coming over you. He was drying his forehead with a towel. Your heart beat fast when he was getting close and you didn't have the time to say anything that he opened the door with a fast move, pushing you inside to not be seen by the staff who was going to be very busy in this area in a minute or so.
"James, I-...", you started but he shut you off with a rough kiss. A mixture of sweat and deodorant hit your nose. Your lips tasted once again his salty sweated lips and you couldn't resist to place your palm on his cheek while his hands rested on your lower back. "James, I can't join you straight away. I have work to do", you explained with a sorry tone, looking deep into his eyes. He looked back at you, like if he was searching for a solution. "They'd be suspicious if I leave now and even more if I leave with you". You added to show him you cared about your both private lifes as well.
He simply answered to your idea with a nod and leaned to kiss you again, deeper this time. Your heart was pounding so fast and those butterflies in your stomach seemed to have turned into a whole colony now. His two hands pushed your pelvis against his, making you moan against his lips. 
"Do what you have to do and meet me as soon as possible", he groaned, adding another peck. You nodded frantically at him, gasping of pleasure as his pelvis hit yours once again.
✦ 𝟑𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✮
You've never finished your tasks that fast before but you really wanted to leave as soon as possible. Luckily, the guys did most of the job and were kind enough to say you could go, since you did a lot in the afternoon to prepare the gig. You thanked them and ran over the mini vans ready to drove the staff back to the hotel. At 1am, there was absolutely no traffic in the city and it was for best. Before joining James, you got the idea of grabbing a few things from your room since he asked you to stay over.
Ten minutes later, you were knocking softly on his door, hoping he didn't fall asleep but some voices coming from the TV told you he was still awake. You looked around, in the corridor, hoping no one would show up so late at night but soon, you heard his reassuring heavy steps behind the door. 
"There you are", he smiled, opening the door and leaning on it.
"I'm sorry I did as fast as I could", you apologized, blushing slightly with a little smile. You came inside as he gently gestured you to come in. James was already wearing a bathrobe and you supposed he showered already.
"Luckily, they had enough support and didn't need me....OH!", you couldn’t finish your sentence that he jumped on you to attack your lips for a hungry kiss. Your bag fell on the carpet in a thud as you wrapped up your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes. 
"Oh I-...I think I don't smell good. I need a shower first", you giggled. James had left your lips in a hurry to attack your neck’s skin now. His mustache tickled the hollow of your neck but this answer didn't satisfy him. He groaned and pulled away, looking deep into your eyes. 
"Then this a good reason to join me", he whispered, his fingers caressing your cheek. You blushed again under his touch, playing with the opening of his bathrobe.
"And where to?". 
"To a place...", he said with a smirk and a playful tone before grabbing the edge of your black tank top. He slowly lifted it up, exposing your belly, “"...where this…”, he threw it away and when he finally took it off, he said, “…won't be necessary". 
A shiver crossed your spine as you helped him to get rid of the rest of your clothes. You quickly kicked off your shoes and stood in underwear in front of him. Last night, you'd have been quite shy to expose yourself to him but curiously he was able to help you having this confidence. Maybe it was the fact he was older or more experienced than you? You didn't know but you appreciated it.
"Then show me this place", you whispered, leaning against his lips, teasing him with a kiss. James chuckled with interest as he slowly pushed you over the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He wanted to keep the room warm. You realized he intended to share a shower with you making a smile curved on your lips. You adored the idea. 
"Make yourself comfortable", he told when he walked over the shower. He turned the water on and checked on the heat with his hand until it was on the right temperature. You nodded at his ask and proceeded to unclasp your bra, remove your thong before you grabbed two towels you placed near the shower. James opened his bathrobe, exposing his naked body and you bit your lower lip at the sight of his gorgeous body, wondering how come you could be so lucky. 
"Come", he went into the shower first, offering his hand to make you join him inside, just in case the ground would be slippery. You accepted it and closed the shower's door behind your back, smiling up at him. He went underneath the hot water first, letting it run on his head and body. You chuckled softly when you saw him shaking his head like a dog to remove the water drops running over his eyes. 
With eyes closed, he ran his hands over his face to refresh it before he declared, "Don't be shy...come closer".
He wasn't looking at you but you guessed he noticed you were staying in the corner. You were more confident to show your body but still, you weren't feeling that confident to make the first steps already. You didn't really know what was on his mind – after all, you thought he just wanted to have fun last night and nothing else - and honestly, it rattled you a little sometimes. So, you really preferred him to take the lead.  
You stepped closer and immediately your chest hit his in a shiver. You giggled of surprise when you felt the water landing on your head and embraced the heat brought by the hot water. It felt so good to finally get washed after a long day running around.  
"God bless this shower...", you whispered in ecstasy as you closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation that embraced you. You didn't see James pressing the soap bottle on the wall to get some and you realized what he was doing only when you felt his hands on your shoulders. 
"Oh...", you whispered, your eyes opening quickly to look up at him. He gave you a smile back and put foam on your body to wash it. "That smells good". 
"And feels good, I hope?", he wondered and made you turn over to have an access to your back. He washed this new skin given to him and whispered a "good" to your hummed "hum hum". 
For a couple of minutes, no words were shared. You both only enjoyed each other's company and James' magical touch on your skin. You never imagined he’d have done such thing with a stranger like you. Sharing a shower was something so intimate that this envy surprised you a lot. But you felt good, you felt comfortable. It was like living a dream and you intended to enjoy it till the end. 
"Oh yes, there", you moaned of pleasure when he reached a painful place over your neck. Pain caused by repetitive days of lifting up some heavy boxes. He insisted on this area, in a very kindly way, when his hand ran along your body. They stopped on your bare breasts that he gently massaged with the same softness. You smiled, eyes closed, appreciating the gesture - as well as your nipples who hardened straight away - when you felt something hard bumping on your lower back. You bit your lower lip, opening your eyes. James couldn't see it but your cheeks flushed red as you realized you probably caused this erection. 
You decided to show a slight of bravery and moved your hand up your body. Once at the right level, you moved it backwards and wrapped your hand around his hard length. James’ chin was resting against your head and you heard his groan behind you. He was okay with it even if the contrary would have surprised you, but you wanted his agreement. 
Slowly, but with precise moves, you started to stroke him back and forth, hearing his groans and feeling his short breath on the hollow of your neck. You keep going, your thumb sometimes rubbing his tip but you felt the water wasn't a good help. So, you turned over again to face him, forcing him to move his head. He looked down with a curious glance as you collected some foam on your body before cupping his hard member again. 
This time, the soap helped you to provide perfect strokes and you increased your pace, stroking it a bit faster. You decided to tease him, leaving his hard cock for a while to wash his tough chest and arms. The air in the cabin was getting thicker and the temperature was increasing faster. There was something very sensual with your two wet bodies stuck to one another. You looked up at him with desire and made an eye contact with his lustful gaze. You smiled to see he was pleased and decided to move on the next step. You were burning of desire to do that and nothing could have stopped you now. 
Now that the foam disappeared with the water, you slowly went down on your knees, your eyes still locked with his, and when you arrived at the right level, you opened your mouth teasingly. Your hands rested around his member and your tongue went out to just suck his tip. 
“Mmh…”, he groaned while his hand went down to caress your wet hair, slowly. You could tell James was enjoying this pleasant surprise very much. 
You let out a moan for the first time as your mouth wrapped around his tip only, sucking it in a sensual way. Feeling you wouldn’t be able to stay too long on your knees, you changed your position to stand on your heels. With your legs wide open now, you felt some water drops running along your wet hair on your body and on your wet folds, making you shiver and moan. Your mouth kept sucking his glans and your right hand went back around his member, gripping it but it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted more and to hear his groans, you understood he probably wanted the same thing. 
Then you held James’ cock and placed it horizontally, letting your tongue licking from the base to the top. You took advantage of this move to lick his balls, even sucking one between your lips.
“Oh yes baby…”, James moaned more, his hand pushing your head slowly. This encourages you to take him fully now, bobbing your head up and down on his venous cock. “This way…yes”.
You followed his instructions and moved further and faster, your hands following your mouth’s moves. 
“It feels good, uh?”, you pulled away to tease him with words for the first time, twirling your tongue over his tip before your lips enveloped his length again for another ride. 
“God…fuck yes”, he mumbled between moans and whines, gripping your hair tighter as he pushed your mouth deeper on his dick. You went as deep as you could and pulled away when you couldn’t take it anymore. With enough saliva on it now, you could pump it faster with your two hands as you looked up at James.
His eyes were closed now and you could tell he was focusing on his pleasure. A proud smile appeared on your lips, proud to provide him such pleasure. You weren’t a blowjob expert but you did it a few times before, memorizing the moves your partners liked.   
You stopped pumping him with your hands to suck him off again, already addict to his perfect cock. You sucked harder, placing one of your palms on his upper thighs for a better support. Your other hand couldn’t resist to reach your already throbbing pussy that needed a bit of attention. James’ groans and whines were more and more precise as he looked down at what you were doing.
You wouldn’t be surprise if he’d cum soon but surprisingly, he pulled you away with a firm grip on your hair, making you shiver. With a sexy look and attitude, you opened your lips, his dick letting out from your mouth and hit his pubes. 
Without a word, he made you get up by grasping you by the shoulders and quickly, his rough lips met yours for a passionate and hungry dance. His hands started to explore your body making you shivering hard.  Even more when his fingertips draw a path along your spine before his both hands cupped your ass cheeks, groping them.
“Oh…”, you moaned of surprise and pleasure at the same time, feeling a pressure into your core. You knew you were completely wet and you wondered what he had in store for you. 
You were both totally rinsed now and when he shut down the shower, you understood he was ready for the next step. But did he got enough energy for a love making session now? After all, he just spent two hours on a stage, rocking hard. But when you stepped out of the shower and dried yourself, you could see his erection didn’t disappear and you guessed you got your answer. He was ready for anything. You quickly dried your wait hair with another towel as James finished to dry his own body, leaving the towel on the floor. He walked into the bedroom and you heard his body landing on the mattress. You smiled and chuckled silently. 
You walked out of the bathroom, leaning against the door frame. James was shutting the TV with the remote when he caught you with his peripheral vision. He smiled at you and extended his hand. 
“Come here pretty girl”. You took his hand with a shy smile and followed his moves. He made you climbed on the bed, passing by on top of his body to make you roll on your side. When your body hit the mattress, he captured your lips again for a sensual dance, his tongue quickly searching for yours.
Naturally your arms wrapped around his neck and each other's legs intermingled. His body was hot against your shivering skin. It felt good and those butterflies came back into your core. 
James’ hand soon found the place between your thighs and when he gently pushed them open, you pulled away your mouth with a slight moan.
“Mh…can I-..”, there your shyness came back, your cheeks flushing red again but you gulped to give you courage to ask him what you really wanted tonight. “Can I be on top?”, you finally dared to suggest.
James answered first with a loud groan of satisfaction. He quickly rolled on his back again, griping his hard cock to get it ready for you. “Come baby, it is yours”.
Those words aroused more than anything and you felt your pussy squeezed at the thought of what you were about to do. You carefully got up and moved one of your legs to straddle him. You did that position for maybe twice and you hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. But James was the best when it comes to make you feel comfortable and confident, that’s why you decided to take your chance to do it tonight with him. 
Before sinking on him, you checked first with your fingers if you were wet enough and with no surprise, you were. James gave you a help as he spat in his hand, spreading the saliva on his tip. When you felt ready, you moved backwards a little, lining up your entrance with his hard cock. 
“Wait…hold on me”, James suddenly said when he saw you unsure of your moves. He sat up on the bed, lining up his dick better and guided it between your wet folds. The touch made you whine of surprise and when you felt his tip at the right place, you slowly push yourself on him with heavy breaths mixed with moans. His shoulders were a good support as you slowly sunk on his length, going inch by inch, your tight pussy being stretched out. 
“Oh fuck…”, you whispered in a gasp, when he was completely inside you. 
“That’s it, baby. Go at your pace now”, James groaned and massaged your ass to make you feel relaxed before he laid down on the bed again.
Your hands didn’t leave his shoulders and when you felt ready and wet enough, you started to move your hips, up and down. Moans and groans escape your mouth as you leaned further on his shoulder, feeling his tip hitting your walls. 
“You love it, don’t you?”, James whispered to you, forcing you to look down at him. You nodded with a shy moan as his hands spanked you hard. "You love riding that old man's cock, I know you do". You moaned louder this time and allowed yourself to move a bit faster on his hard cock. 
“Feels good”, you breathed between your whines, your hands finding a comfortable place on James’ chest. He couldn’t leave his eyes off of you, watching you taking pleasure, your breasts jiggling as you were bouncing on his cock. It was arousing him more than ever. He decided to give you a little help, knowing you’d enjoy what he had in mind. 
“Lean a bit more sweetheart”, he suggested as he gripped your both hands with his. You listened to his advice and leaned as he asked you to, arching your butt. “Great, now bounce on my cock. C’mon”, he encouraged you with another spank and you realized this position was far better to make you bounce easily on his hard member. 
“Oh! Fuck yes James”, you cried of pleasure, feeling new sensations arousing you. You could tell your pussy was getting wetter each time it was sinking on James’ cock, your wet folds enveloping it with ease. Your ass cheeks were hitting one another at each moves making you feel sexy. And when you felt his dick hitting your spot, you whine of surprise, opening your eyes before they rolled back in your head. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock. Make yourself cum hard on it”. You whined at every praise he told you and squirmed faster on his dick, feeling this familiar and powerful sensation growing up inside your lower belly. But this time, it felt like it was growing stronger and faster than ever. You panted hard, thrusting hard up and down to reach this amazing feeling you wanted to feel. It was a strong need, a strong desire. 
James could feel you were about to cum, he could tell by your moves. He noticed you were going deeper and faster, trying different paces in search of your release. He even hesitated to take the lead cause he could have grabbed your ass and pounded hard into you but he finally decided to let you move the way you wanted. And honestly, it was better this way. James couldn’t stop watching how sexy you were in that position, bouncing on him. 
“Oh James…I’m gonna-…God…I’m gonna cum”, you begged and whined, your breath increasing as well as your moves.
“Let it go baby…let it go…breathe”, James whispered as he didn’t stop watching you from beneath. His glance going up at you then glancing down at your pussy enveloping his hard dick. He would cum soon too if you kept going on this pace but he was holding it, wanting you to reach your climax first. His hands gripped tighter your wrists and when he saw your face contracting, your teeth biting your lower lips and your pussy squeezing around his cock, he knew you were cumming.
“OH FUCK!”, you almost screamed of pleasure when you finally reached the object of your desires. “Holy fuck, yes. It feels good”. Your pussy contracted around his member as you freed one of your hands to rub your clit. 
“Yeah baby…C’mon, fuck yourself. That feels good. Yes!". You heard James’ praises but it was like he was talking from afar. Your legs started to shake and you struggled a little to hold on to the position. Your fingers shook frantically your clit as you keep bouncing on his cock to ride your orgasm till the end. It was completely overwhelming you and nothing could compare these amazing sensations.
Your whine soon calmed down, the pleasure and pressure going down slowly but you breathed loudly, leaving your used clit and pussy recovering from this orgasm. 
“Oh my god”, you panted in a whisper as you came back to your senses. James smiled, looking at you and let you enjoy this pure moment of ecstasy after the orgasm, when the sensations are going through your whole body, making you feel complete and happy.
Meanwhile, he grabbed his dick and stroked it slowly, waiting patiently for you. When you opened your eyes again and met his, you both smiled at each other. Then he pulled you down to kiss his lips in a tender way. It surprised you how relaxed and how easy you were showing yourself to him but you guess he was helping you a lot. 
“Can you take it for another ride baby?”, he requested with a grin and you don’t hesitate a second. 
“Oh yes”, you sighed of pleasure as you positioned yourself again. 
“There you go. Sit on that cock again”, James helped you line up with his dick again and this time, you sunk on him faster. When all his length thrusted into you, you bounced up and down. James' right hand rested on your lower back for a while as your moves started to be more sloppier and easier now that you had cum hard on him. “Oh fuck baby, keep going”.
You smiled proudly at him and leaned on him to take back the position that made you cum. You adored it so much that you wanted to do it once again. Maybe it would be the last time trying this with him so why not enjoy it till the end? James understood what you were doing and held your hands again with his, gripping them firmly on his chest. 
“Go on, sweetheart”, he commanded as he looked at you arching your back and butt.
Very quickly, you bounced again on his cock, your wet lips squeezing, making you moan like crazy again. James closed his eyes, enjoying these sensations as he felt his core burning. But he wanted to look at you, looking at how your body were moving and reacting. He looked down again and spanked you harder, admiring how his dick was disappearing inside your pussy with so ease.
“You’re so fucking tight. Jesus, it feels so good”, he growled with his hoarse voice as he groped your ass hard, opening wide your two tight holes. This made you squirm again with a loud whine and when he felt your pussy contracting around his cock, James felt it was the right time to cum.
“Oh yes baby, don’t stop moving this way…I’m gonna cum”, he warned you in a groan, his face contracting under the pleasure coming. 
“Fuck me James…please…cum on me”, you bounced a little more on his tip and when you realized with his screams he was about to released his load, you thrusted out your pussy, leaving him space so he could stroke his dick against your ass. He stroked it so his cum could land on your ass cheeks and ran over your folds before dripping on his stomach. 
“Oh fuck…yes!”, he groaned like a beast, arching his pelvis a little, his head hitting the pillow as he jerked off his dick with pace, his orgasm making him tremble a little.
He had closed his eyes and you smiled, watching over your shoulder all the mess. He panted hard when he stopped growling and you looked down at him, still straddling his hips. You smiled and hesitated a moment before you allowed yourself to run a fingertip along his sweaty chest. He giggled at the tickle, his eyes closed as he was just enjoying his post orgasm feelings and you smiled. 
Leaving him recovering, you got up to go to the bathroom, searching for a towel to clean you. You picked another one for him before you came on the bed. But first, you couldn't resist to suck his dick one last time to clean him. Surprised by your gesture, James opened his eyes in a moan and looked down at you with a grin.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist”, you said with a tease, wiping a drop that left on your lips. 
" I won't complain", he chuckled softly and grabbed the towel you were handing to him. "Thanks for the towel".
"You're welcome", you replied with a warm smile and while he was cleaning his stomach, you walked in the other side of the room, picking up your bag to peeped inside. James frowned at your attitude as he placed the towel on his bedside table.
"I hope you don't intend to leave me alone again tonight...", he asked as he sat down on the bed. You looked up at him and your gaze met his piercing blue eyes...
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dragon-kazansky · 12 days
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When the raven calls
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Morpheus x Female Reader
You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Notes: This chapter is very episode heavy to begin with.
Chapter Six - Two left feet
☆☆☆
"You have to wake up."
Dream's head rests in your lap as you gently hold him close to you. The ruby had weakened him and now it was gone along with that man.
Your concerns lay with the passed out king in your lap.
"Dream... Please wake up." You plea quietly. You would be lying if you said you weren't frightened. You felt useless, unable to help him. You've never felt anything worse.
You refuse to leave his side.
After a few hours, he wakes. He opens his eyes to find himself looking up at you. You smile in relief when you see those beautiful eyes of his.
You did not just think that...
"You're awake!"
Morpheus slowly pushes himself up into a seated position and looks around. "The ruby?"
"Gone. There was a man. He came and took it. He didn't see us, though."
Morpheus looks at you. You had stayed by his side and looked after him. You had no idea how much that meant to him. He looks like he's about to say something, but then he stops himself. He rises to his feet and holds out a hand to you.
"You're still human."
You take his hand and let him pull you up to your feet. "Yeah..."
"Allow me." He takes some sand from his pouch and blows it at you. You look down to find yourself wearing some clothes now. You look back at him.
"Thank you."
You remove his coat and pass it back. He seems reluctant to take it, but he puts it back on.
"I can find the ruby. It has been altered, but I'll be able to find it. Come." Morpheus leads the way out of the storage unit.
You have no idea just how much time had passed while inside there. It took a while for Morpheus to wake again. You can tell he knows more of his power is gone. He is weakened.
You find yourself outside a diner. The place was in disarray. Something had clearly happened here. Morpheus glances at you and then steps inside. You follow him quietly.
People lay dead in the middle of the room.
You stand by the door as Morpheus approaches the man sitting at the counter alone.
"Hello." The man sighs. "I'm John. I'm glad you're here. The power has gone out. So there's no TV, and no one left to talk to."
"What is it you think you're doing?" Morpheus asks.
"Saving the world from its lies."
"The ruby wasn't made for that."
John gasps softly. "Oh, you're the Sandman. My mother was right. She said you'd be coming for it."
"You must return it to me so that I can repair the damage you have done." Morpheus tells him.
"I'm not giving it back to you, it's mine."
"It is harming you, John, and your world."
"It's revealing the truth," John says softly. "This is the truth of mankind."
"No. You're wrong. This is the truth of mankind."
Morpheus shows John how these people he killed lived their lives. What they did. What they dreamed about. How they lived. He took all of that away from them.
Kate dreames of running away where no one could find her.
Garry dreams of proving his father wrong.
Bette dreams of creating something that would matter to people.
You feel sorry for all these people. Their hope had been taken from them.
"The ruby is hurting you, John." Morpheus says to him. "It has too much of my power within it. It stole more when I tried to use it."
"Then perhaps if I use it to steal the rest of your powers, I will be the King of Dreams." John says.
You frown. There is only one King of Dream. Your King of Dreams. Morpheus. No one else can have that title.
"If you would rob a Dream lord of his power, you shall do so in his realm. In dreams."
Just like that, John is in the Dreaming. You have returned to the palace with Morpheus. However, now you find yourself as a raven again.
"Damn it," you mutter. Just as you were getting used to having thumbs.
While John chases his past through dreams. Morpheus prepares to deal with him. You land on the throne and wait.
John comes to the throne room and looks at you sitting on the throne.
"Is this your palace... Dream Lord? Is this your throne... King of Lies? Well, it's mine now!"
John raises the ruby in his hand. The palace begins to crumble. You fly away.
"Are you watching? Can you see me?" The palace continues to burn away. "Using your own powers to burn away your lies."
"You must stop." Morpheus appears with his helmet on. "It is not too late to save yourself."
"Oh, you think it's me that needs saving?" John says.
"Your father stole the ruby from me and cursed you with it."
"You mean he blessed me with it." John raises the ruby up again. "Your reign ended when my father captured you. Your kingdom is my birthright."
John is killing Morpheus with the ruby.
"Your power resides within me."
Morpheus falls to the ground, curled up, unable to fight back.
"How does it feel to know I hold your life in my hands?" John asks.
"You're hurting the dreamers," Morpheus says, grunting in pain.
You can not go to him. Morpheus has made it so. He didn't want you hurt at the hands of John Burgess.
"Well, it's time they woke up! Your life and your lies end now."
John crushes the ruby.
Everything around him is gone.
He did it. He killed the Sandman, or so he believes.
"Thank you, John."
John looks up to find himself looking up at the Dream Lord. He is standing on his palm, feeling so small compared to this Dream Lord.
"But I killed you."
Morpheus speaks. "You destroyed the ruby and released the power inside it. I would never have thought of that. I'd forgotten just how much of myself I had placed in the jewel."
"Are you going to kill me?" John asks.
"I could. Perhaps I will. But the dream stone was not made for mortals. And it came to you through no fault of your own. So, no, John. I will not kill you."
☆☆☆
You sit on the steps to the throne and wait. The Dreaming had been mended, back to its original states. Morpheus now had all his power back to fix it. You were just waiting for his return after dealing with John Burgess.
Jessamy and Matthew came flying to sit with you.
"What happened?" Jessamy asks.
"A lot. There is too much to explain, but you will be glad to know our king is back to his full power again."
Jessamy looks pleased.
"And the ruby?" Matthew asks.
"Gone. Destroyed, but the power within it returned to Lord Morpheus. The kingdom can heal again."
The doors open, and you look up and see Morpheus walking in with Lucienne behind him. You would smile if it was possible.
"You're safe," he says, looking at you.
"Thanks to you."
"And you're a raven again."
"Yeah... I was just getting used to being human too." You chuckles.
Morpheus kneels down so he is eye level with you. He kneels for no one, so this surprises you. "Perhaps I can help with your predicament."
"How?" You ask, stepping a little closer to him.
"This is the Dreaming, I am the Lord of Dreams. You were created by me. I should, at the very least, be able to help you control your ability to change."
"You'll help me?"
"I can not explain how you are able to switch between both forms, but I shall definitely try and assist in any way I can. Imagine how useful it would be to go between raven and person."
"I would like that very much."
He gives you the tiniest of smiles. "Come. We shall start right away. Lucienne, the kingdom, is returning back to its former glory. I assume Dreams and Nightmare may start to return."
Lucienne bows her head. "Yes, my lord."
Morpheus begins to exit the throne room, and you take flight, following behind him. You are filled with a newfound excitement at what potential lies ahead.
"You don't mind that I can turn into a human?" You ask, flying alongside him.
"Why should I mind it?"
"I don't know. I was your raven for so long."
"You still are," he says.
"Would I still be useful to you in human form?"
"Why wouldn't you be?"
"I don't know..." You sigh. "Just... I'd prefer to stay a raven if I'm only useful to you like this."
Morpheus stops walking and looks at you. "You will always be useful to me. No matter what form you took."
You look at him silently.
Morpheus continues walking, and you catch up. He has created a space for you to learn how to go between raven and human.
You land on the ground in front of him.
"What do you feel when you transform?" He asks.
"It's strange. Before, I only changed when I went between the waking world and the Dreaming. I stopped doing that because it was strange... and I didn't know what to do with myself. Lucienne helped me get used to being a human when I returned here. Then, when Lucifer changed me, it felt... wrong. It was probably because it was a forced change. I had gotten used to being a raven again, so being human felt weird to me suddenly."
Morpheus hums softly in thought.
"You need to tap into that power within you that changes you. Control it. Master it. Then you can come and go as you like."
"But... how?"
Morpheus walks around you. When you turn to look at him, you find a big black cat looking up at you.
"That's not helping. You're the Dream Lord. You can do as you wish. I was never supposed to be able to do any of this."
"You'll learn." Morpheus turns back into himself. "Think of what you want to be and will it to happen."
You sigh and close your eyes, thinking about your human form. You open them and find yourself still a raven. You groan and try again. Still nothing.
"I can't do it."
Morpheus looks at you. You look at him.
"Don't force it. Feel it. You can do this. I believe in you."
You take a deep breath, or as big a breath as a raven can take, and focus. You think about how it felt when he held you in Hell. How he supported you and looked after you. You think about how if felt standing on wobbly legs the first time. How it felt to reach out and grab Lucienne's hand when she helped you. You think about how it would feel to hold Dream's hand in yours, fingers interlocking. You wonder what it would be like to be human again.
You open your eyes and find yourself no longer looking up at him as a raven. You're standing on human feet. You smile.
"See?" He chuckles.
"I did it?"
"You did it."
You grin with excitement.
"Now, back to a raven." He says.
You use the same process as you did before. You think about how your feathers feel. The wind in your wings. How it feels to fly and land. You think about how you look up at Morpheus when you stand beside him as a raven. How it feels to land on his shoulder. How easy it is for you to go back and forth between realms.
You feel yourself gliding. You flap your wings and land carefully.
You're a raven again.
"You can do it." Morpheus says proudly.
"It feels easy some how."
"It is when you know how. You have to feel it. That's how you make it easy. Now, again."
You spend the next few hours going back and forth between raven and human. You'll fly around the room, landing on his shoulder and other things as a raven. You'll hop, skip, dance, and jump as a human, finding you feet easily.
Morpheus smiles and encourages you every time you transform. He's proud of what you have become.
He's happy to have you at his side again.
He's excited that you have a human form.
You spin and smile, happy that you seem to be getting the grasp of things now. There seems to be so much more freedom for you now. No longer will you have to worry about being either form.
"I think you have the hang of it now."
You turn and look at Morpheus. You've decided to settle on your human form for now. "Yes. Thank you. I'm grateful." You bow your head.
"There is no need for that," he tells you.
You smile and look at him. "You have no idea how happy I am."
"No?" He smiles softly, amused.
"Well, maybe you do. I'm very excited." You look down at your human body. "I can be myself, and be this new version of me."
"I like both versions of you."
You can't help yourself. You smile and hug him quickly. He is startled by your sudden action, but he places one arm around you. He accepts the hug.
You realise what you have done and pull away quickly.
"Sorry. I'm sorry..."
He chuckles softly. "Don't apologise."
You now feel embarrassed and decide you've done enough damage for one day. You think about your raven form and take flight. Yo decide to flee for now.
Morpheus watches you fly away.
He rests one hand on his chest. It had been a long time since he last felt the flutter of his heart like this.
He hopes it won't be the last time, either.
☆☆☆
@missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @sitkafay - @snowsatsu - @ladyofdreaming - @thoughtsfromlayla - @modest-irish-goddess -
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tj-dragonblade · 5 months
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[FIC] On the Edge of a Waking Dream
Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: M Word Count: 3914 Tags: MonsterFucktoberBingo 2023, Dreamling Nation House of Horrors 2023, human Dream, ghost Hob, modern day setting, main character death, technically, is Hob a main character, the prompt is ghost so not DEAD-dead regardless, ghost character, ghost sex, sex toys, anal sex, suicidal ideation, unconventional happily-ever-after, these tags are a very mixed bag, angst in my lighthearted ghost story?, it's more likely than you think, brief appearance by Daniel Hall, brief appearance by Merv
Additional Warning: There is a conversation toward the end that dips into the subject of suicidal ideation. If you need to avoid it, it's the section that begins "Would that I could stay here forever, with you" - skip that whole section and you'll be good.
Notes: Title taken from I'll Be There, by Escape Club, 1991. This song has been on my Ficcable Songs list for more than two decades and finally I've done something with it. I'm…eugh. I think this would be better served as a longfic, but I'm. Not doing that. I'm happier with this now than I was with the initial draft, and that's good enough.
This covers Smoctober Day 9 prompt 'ghost', the Monsterfucktober square for 'ghost', and the Dreamling Nation House of Horrors prompt 'ghost'
Summary: Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one
On AO3
~~~ Dream never believed in ghosts.
But then, his boyfriend became one.
Hob, his brash and boastful beautiful Hob, who'd talked of marriage once they were done with university, who'd laughed at the notion of dying and proudly declared he'd live forever. Hob, who had sworn to never leave him, had promised to be there for him always.
The universe had other ideas, unfortunately, but Hob was nothing if not adaptable.
~~~ Dream turned the key in the lock of their shared flat—just his flat, now, he supposed—numb and empty inside after the funeral. Debating the merits of crying in the shower vs going straight to bed (not their bed, not anymore) and crying himself to sleep, he pushed open the door.
The lights flicked on all by themselves.
All of the lights, in every room of the flat.
Which was disconcerting, but he was tired, and emotionally drained, and made a mental note to check with the property manager about the wiring just in case.
The electric teakettle clicked on when he entered the kitchen; convenient, as he had intended a cup of chamomile before trying to sleep, but he added the oddity to his mental note for tomorrow. Tea in hand, he leaned against the counter, gathering the static in his mind to keep from focusing with any clarity on the loss clawing his insides hollow.
When his laptop on the corner desk powered itself on, he nearly dropped his tea. With mounting apprehension he watched as the computer logged him in and…opened Spotify? Then the music started, an old song he knew well, and the apprehension turned to disbelief.
Don't be afraid, oh my love I'll be watching you from above And I'd give all the world tonight, To be with you
"This is absolutely my song," Hob had said once when it came on. "Guy loved his partner so much he refused to go when death came for him? That'd be me."
"I thought you planned to live forever?" Dream had teased, gently, and Hob had grinned.
"Well yeah, that is the plan. But if it turns out I can't, then…sticking around as a ghost, that's my contingency plan." His smile had turned warm, tender, and he'd brushed a knuckle down the side of Dream's face. "I've got to see you're getting on okay if I'm gone, haven't I?"
Because I'm on your side, And I still care I may have died, But I've gone nowhere Just think of me, And I'll be there
"Hob," Dream whispered, tears welling, something like hope sticking in his throat, and the lamp on the desk flickered. "Is that you?"
The lamp blinked out and back on, twice, and Dream let out a sob. 'Twice' had always been their non-verbal and discretionary code for affirmation, blinking or shoulder taps or hand squeezing, and the warm sense of relief that poured over Dream at this confirmation was overwhelming. "Hob…how is this possible? Am I losing my grip on reality?"
The wireless mouse moved, waggled side to side in a clear imitation of shaking one's head 'no'.
"How is this possible," Dream murmured again, turning over and over the idea that ghosts could be real, that Hob could be one. "You died; I buried you. How can you be here?"
The mouse moved in a slow deliberate arc, sketching the shape of a heart.
Oh, there's no need to cry Just think of me, And I'll be there
Dream's throat closed up and he let out a sound half-laugh, half-sob as the song soared into its final chorus.
The mouse scooted across the desk, nudged the box of tissues closer.
Hob had so often talked about taking care of him; Hob had promised to never leave him.
Hob had, apparently, refused to go when Death came for him. "You were always a man of your word," Dream murmured, sniffling through a smile, and the light in the kitchen flickered happily.
~~~ Living with a ghost was surprisingly easy to adjust to, once he accepted the reality of it. He always had someone to talk to, and they quickly discovered that the notes app on his phone, or his computer, was a viable conduit for Hob to talk back when he felt like it. Dream's earbuds were always charged, his music library always managed to pull up exactly the right song for his mood, he never had to worry about whether he'd left the lights or the stove on and, annoyingly, his phone and computer always turned off at exactly the hour Hob had insisted on for a decent sleep schedule. But in all honesty, healthier sleep habits were a fair price to pay for having Hob back in some form when Dream had thought him lost.
Hob looked after him, made sure he kept living and thriving, and Dream threw himself into researching ghosts and spirits and how to attune oneself to them. Herbs and alignments and meditative practices, Dream tried them all and little by little, the more he learned, the more he began to feel the physical presence of Hob in their flat. A breath, a scent, a diffuse sense of warmth and calm, an overall impression that this was home and Hob was here.
~~~ "What was it like, dying?" he asked one day, during a lull in his research. He minimized the webpage and brought up the notes app. "If you don't mind talking about it, that is." He trusted Hob to tell him otherwise; communicating and respecting boundaries had always been easy between them. The cursor started moving a couple seconds later.
It would be impossible to discuss the subject without a common frame of reference.
Dream burst out laughing at that, the terrible hiccuping bray that Hob had adored, and a little old-school smiley emote appeared on the screen. But before Dream could draw breath to quote the next line back to Hob (You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death??), the cursor was moving again.
Kidding. Not much to tell. Was a lady there, kind face, beautiful wings. Held out her hand, and I knew if I took it I'd never see you again. So I refused.
"And you were permitted to just…say no?"
Lady gave me a sad smile, said I couldn't go back; told her I couldn't go forward, either, not if it meant leaving you. When I promised I would never.
Dream could feel his eyes welling up and blinked, swallowed the lump in his throat.
She let me stay in between. Not perfect, but I don't have to leave. Can't leave you.
"I love you," Dream said, voice wavering. "I love you, Hob, I miss you but I'm so glad I still have you—" A little sob escaped, his eyes spilling over.
Death cannot stop true love, Hob typed then, in swooping pink script on the screen, and Dream could only smile through his tears as he answered.
"All it can do is delay it for a little while."
~~~ Dream kept seeking knowledge and Hob kept developing proficiency in being a ghost, more practice in interacting with the world and making himself known; soon enough Dream could genuinely feel Hob there, physically—a wisp of air against his skin, the phantom brush of lips to his temple, a full-body shiver of warmth when drifting off to sleep. He'd feel Hob like an embrace from behind while fixing his breakfast, while practicing his cello, while showering. Sometimes he would touch himself under the spray, stroke it to hardness and feel, unmistakably, the wispy grip of Hob's hand over his, the faint nudge of a phantom prick against his arse, an invisible mouth laving kisses to the back of his neck.
"You can manipulate any electronics, right?" he asked one evening, and when the lamp on his bedside table dimmed and brightened twice in the affirmative, he undressed and brought out the vibrator he had purchased the day before, knelt over on the bed, pressed the toy into his slick and opened body. "Then please, Hob—be with me, like this, have me, I still want—"
The toy jumped to life with a buzz and Dream gasped, shifted, rocked his hips as Hob cycled through every power setting and vibration pattern until he found the combination that made Dream shiver and squirm and grasp helplessly at the bedsheets, surrounded by the not-quite-there feeling of Hob draped over him, fingers twined with his, lips soft at the back of his neck as he surrendered to the onslaught of sensation.
He drifted off to sleep afterward with a soft smile on his face, the feel of Hob's arms around him and Hob murmuring "G'night, dove, I'll keep you safe" in his ear.
When he woke, the whisper of revelation was stirring at the back of his mind but it didn't click until he heard a soft "Good morning, beautiful" in Hob's dear voice and sat bolt upright, duly stunned.
"Hob! You can talk!?"
Nothing, for an instant, and then, still soft: "Dream? Can you…you can hear me now?"
"Yes!" he cried, overjoyed, and let the tears stream down his face as he heard Hob's happy laughter surrounding him, disembodied but bright and brilliant, for the first time in months.
~~~ Together they continued their studies, carefully experimenting with ways to thin the veil between worlds safely and securely. Hob's physical presence got stronger, more tangible as the days passed. His touch was never cold like so many sources claimed; it was warm, like lifting one's face to the morning sun in the first days of Spring, like the comfort of snuggling into the blankets on a winter evening.
Nothing about his Hob could ever be cold.
All his studies indicated that a ghost attaining visibility took time, and strength of will from the spirit, and 'openness' on the part of the living—which Dream had interpreted as willingness to believe that one might see a ghost. He did believe, wholeheartedly, knew without a doubt that Hob was still here with him and would eventually be ghost enough to manifest visibly.
It happened one night when Dream was drifting between awake and asleep; there, in that liminal state, he caught a glimpse of Hob for just an instant. It stole his breath, the sight of Hob before him again after all this time; Hob smiled at him, blindingly beautiful, and then he faded out and Dream woke, eyes wet, his own smile soft on his face.
"Hob?" he called, barely more than a murmur, and immediately the warm comfort of Hob's arms around him took hold.
"'M here," came Hob's disembodied voice, close to his ear. "Did you see me there, in between?"
"Yes," Dream breathed, emotion swelling within him. "You were. So beautiful. How I've missed the sight of you, Hob—" He turned, wanting to burrow into the warmth of Hob beside him, knowing there was nothing really there enough to accommodate his want.
"Sweet talker," Hob said, and then there were soft insubstantial lips touching his and Dream sighed into the phantom kiss, arching, reaching. Invisible fingertips traced his jaw, touched his throat, trailed down and brushed a nipple and Dream let a needy sound spill from him.
"Hob," he pleaded, keyed up, wanting, and felt more than heard the way Hob hummed in reply. And then the suggestion of a leg was pushed between his, urging him over onto his back and hands were stroking feather-light down his sides, a ghostly mouth moving beneath his ear. Dream whimpered, kicked free of the bedclothes, hooked his thumbs in his pajama bottoms and wriggled fluidly to get them down and off, laid back and spread his limbs and gave himself over to the slow sensual stoking of his pleasure.
Hob took his time as much by design as necessity, needing focus and intent to manage physical touch but also clearly delighting in the leisurely build of driving Dream higher and higher. He was skilled at it, also, had Dream trembling and moaning long before his ghostly tongue touched Dream's prick. It was hard, leaking, and Dream rocked into the wispy sensation of Hob's mouth around him, Hob's hands caressing the insides of his thighs, Hob's fingertips tracing intimately along the creases of his body.
Hob's touch was exquisite, erotic, and Dream was certain that with hours to enjoy it he would surely reach climax, but neither of them had that sort of patience just now. "Get the vibe, sweetheart," Hob said at last, and Dream scrambled to comply, retrieving it from the bedside drawer. "Open yourself up for me, need to watch you come undone—"
Breathless, Dream lubed the toy and pushed it in, bore down and gripped it tightly in anticipation, knees raised, waiting for Hob—
The toy turned on and Dream's head lashed back as sudden pleasure poured through him. "There you are," he vaguely heard Hob murmur, "my darling beautiful Dream—"
One day, Dream vowed, shaking as Hob cycled the toy into the perfect pulsing intensity that made him writhe and wail, one day, he would come from Hob's ghostly touch alone.
~~~ They met in waking dreams again, and again, each meeting strengthening their connection, anchoring them securely to one another across the veil. "Oh, my love, my precious dove," Hob murmured, when they managed to hold onto one another for more than a second, and then Hob's mouth was pressed against his, opening, warm—
He woke to the feel of Hob kissing him still, only less substantial, but as he opened his eyes, he caught a soft glimmer of Hob's face above him, hazy, barely there, and his heart skipped a beat.
"I can see you," he murmured against phantom lips, not daring to blink, breath held—but Hob drew back in surprise, in excitement, and his faint image flickered out. Dream sighed and let his eyes fall closed once more. "We'll keep trying. Come kiss me again?"
~~~ "Would that I could stay here forever, with you," Dream lamented, drifting on the edge of waking up, curled into Hob's embrace.
He felt the way that Hob went still and tense.
"You seem the most real here," he explained, "and I am. So tired, of not being able to properly touch you. Except here."
"I'm getting better at being substantial out there," Hob said, a very careful edge in his voice. "Be patient, dove, we'll get there."
"Or I could simply sleep forever, and never be without you again."
"You aren't without me now. I'm not going anywhere, Dream. You have me. Forever. What you're talking about is—" Hob stopped abruptly, unwilling to voice the thought.
"I know." Dream couldn't bring himself to look Hob in the eye, mumbled into the familiar comfort of Hob's hairy chest instead. "I wonder, sometimes, if…it might be worth it."
Hob vanished, and it was a sharp enough jolt that Dream woke completely.
Every light in the flat was flickering madly as Dream stumbled ouf of the bedroom; the smoke and CO detectors were screeching their alarm, his laptop sounding some kind of alert and the air conditioning unit in the window powering off and on repeatedly.
"Hob!" Dream tried to raise his voice above the din. "Hob, stop!"
The teakettle started up a sustained whistle and then Spotify kicked in with some metal band he couldn't immediately name, thrashing guitars and guttural screaming vocals, and Dream had to cover his ears. "Hob! HOB!"
It was another full minute of this cacophony, and then abruptly everything stopped. Plunged back into grey morning dimness and silence, Dream took a steadying breath, two.
"…Hob?" His voice, when it came, was small and tentative.
The kitchen light flickered sullenly, twice.
"Hob. I don't…I'm not—" He floundered; the words weren't coming.
"C'mere." He felt the swoop of Hob rushing past him, and followed him back to the bedroom. "C'mere," Hob repeated, from the bed, and Dream crawled up to sit against the headboard. The faint sense of Hob's arm settled around his shoulders and Dream felt the inevitable tears welling up.
"Sorry for throwing a tantrum," Hob's voice said, low and soft with sincerity. "It's just. You scared me. What you said." Dream felt lips brush his hair, holding there in a desperate approximation of a kiss.
"I know." Dream blinked, and the tears spilled over. "I don't mean it, but…"
"But it's crossed your mind."
Dream wiped his eyes. "Yes."
"I stayed to see you live your life, not to take it away from you." Hob's voice was shaky now, as if he was also crying—could ghosts cry?—and Dream could feel Hob's other arm across his chest, Hob holding him close, clinging to him. "Dream—I love you, I love you so much. And you have everything ahead of you. Please, please don't start thinking you're better off giving it all up. We don't even know if you'd wind up same as me—"
Dream closed his eyes, breathed slow and even. It was not that he wished, particularly, to die; it was simply that he wished to be with Hob more than he wanted anything else.
Except, perhaps, to not bring Hob pain or distress.
"I…am an amateur, at these occult studies," Dream said at last, eyes still closed. "It will take a lifetime of research and learning to ensure that I can share in your afterlife, that I will not leave you behind. I will need to live a very long life, to be. Certain."
"…Yes," came Hob's voice, steadier now but still with a trembling edge of wariness underneath. "Yes. You will."
"And I will need your help. To research, but also to remind me to eat, to buy groceries, to go to bed on time."
"Of course. You'll have it, anything and everything I can do to help. Promise me you won't give up."
"Hob," Dream breathed, because he had opened his eyes, and Hob was glimmering faintly there beside him—visible, if only just. "Hob—"
"Promise," Hob interrupted, lifting his head to look Dream in the eye, and Dream could see the exact second when he realized Dream was not looking through him, but at him.
"I will live to be ninety, I promise," he said, a little bit breathless, a little wrung out, very much elated. "Hob, I can see you—"
The smile on Hob's face, the way he glowed with joy, pushed every other thought from Dream's head, and when Hob leaned in for an ecstatic-if-still-a-touch-watery kiss, Dream's heart soared at how easily they connected.
~~~ Hob's visual manifestation in the waking world grew more and more frequent as the days went on, steadier, more solid in appearance. Strong emotion, they confirmed, was an excellent catalyst and soon enough he could maintain a weak-but-persistent shade, always a bit more distinct from the corner of Dream's eye than straight on. The more he practiced the better he got, at being both visually and tangibly solid, holding his presence, managing touch. Dream never minded that he always remained a bit transparent; he was there, still here, still with Dream, to whom he had promised forever.
~~~ "Still mine?" Hob asked many years later, float-lying half on top of him in bed, idly combing through the emerging greys of his hair, and Dream smiled.
"I can't imagine ever being anyone else's," he breathed, lifting a hand to touch Hob's face. He still had to be careful, to focus; it was all too easy for his hand to go right through Hob which was disconcerting for them both. But he was very good at it by now, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Hob's ear tenderly. "I don't want to be anyone else's."
"You don't have to be," Hob promised, drifting up to look down into his eyes. "I'm here, I'm yours, forever, as long as you'll have me."
"Forever," Dream echoed, smiling with the joy of it, and drew Hob down for a delicate heartfelt kiss.
~~~ "Sorry, kid, ain't got no vacancies."
Daniel's shoulders slumped, disappointed. The White Horse building was perfectly situated for getting to campus and he'd been told there was always at least one flat open, but apparently he was given incorrect information.
"Unless…" The guy in the property office tilted his head back, scratched under his scruffy chin, cigar caught between his teeth. "I mean, there is the haunted unit, 'salways empty…"
Daniel perked up. "Haunted unit?" He'd been drawn to the unusual all his life, fascinated by the paranormal, intrigued by the macabre. If this was true—
"Yeah." The guy slanted a look at him. "Last tenant—last tenant who stayed more'n a couple'a weeks, at least—was this old guy, lived there for decades. Him'n his boyfriend, they moved in when they were young but then the boyfriend died, an' the other guy just stayed the rest of his life, alone. Was a hundred n' five when he finally passed, and that was back in '89. Flat's been empty ever since. Folk'll move in, but it don't take long 'til they're backin' out on the lease. Lights won't work right, electronics're unpredictable, weird moanin' and screamin' noises in the walls, some even talk about apparitions they can't ever see straight-on but're always in the corner of the eye, in the shadows. Me, I don' believe'n none of it, never seen nor heard anything'f the sort, but regardless I can't keep anybody in there—"
"I'll take it," Daniel interrupted, excitement bubbling up in his stomach. A haunted flat? Could he be any luckier? "That is—if I may?"
"Look, kid, you wanna give it a shot? Go for it. Come on in, I'll draw up the paperwork. 'F you stay, I'll give ya a super steep discount—any rent comin' in's better'n none, heh!" He turned and stumped back into his office, still cackling and muttering; Daniel followed, mind racing.
If there was a ghost, a real ghost, it was probaby the boyfriend, who'd maybe been there all along and now didn't want anyone living in his and his lover's space. And Daniel was no true medium, but he'd grown up learning all kinds of 'alternative science' stuff from his mom's friends, so maybe he'd have a decent chance of communicating with the ghost, helping it find peace and move on.
He was half right. It was the boyfriend, but it was also the old man. Whose ghost was that of his younger self—and yes, Daniel was able to talk to them. Also, they had absolutely no intention of moving on. They were lovely, actually, had no problem with Daniel living there once they got to know him, willingly worked out a sort of 'roommate agreement' with him. Merv down in the property office made good on his promise of cheap rent, and Daniel's ghosts were always making sure the flat was in order, bills tracked and paid, cupboards stocked and groceries delivered, homework reminders set where he needed them and homework assistance given when asked. It was like…like having two dads, when he'd grown up without, and Daniel was hard-pressed to imagine how his life could possibly be better.
(He could do without the occasional auditory glimpse into their love life, but…well. Most of the time they were very good about not leaking across the veil in intimate moments, and ultimately who was he to begrudge them their eternal happiness?)
=== Started: 10/9/23 Drafted: 10/10/23 Additional Drafting: 10/27/23 Posted: 10/28/23
I have not read any of Daniel's canon material; my apologies if his voice sounds terribly wrong. Cookies for anyone who recognizes the movie quotes Hob used ❤️
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doyou000me · 13 days
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Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better:
Tagged by @lurkingshan - thank you for the tag!
3 Ships You Like:
Luca and Vincenzo. They're my rare pair hell ship and I'll keep it afloat singlehandedly if I have to. Luckily I don't, because there's two of us holding up the fort on Ao3, and @ristique-xy and I are basically feeding each other at this point.
For those of you who haven't seen it, Vincenzo is a Korean drama from 2021. Vincenzo is the main character and Luca has like 5-10 minutes of screen time in the entire series. Nothing can convince me that they're not murderous lovers for life.
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Yoh and Mizuki from My Personal Weatherman. I watched it, moved on, and then was reminded of it after a certain picture and discussion with @candidamay, which made me go back and rewatched MPW and now I'm trying to write a fic for them. It is resisting me but I shall employ stubbornness and persevere.
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Kinnporsche. Again, I watched the show when it came out and moved on. Now incredible fanfics (go read Bad Bet by @luckydragon10 and The Power In The Taking by @iffervescent. Both are excellent and very NSFW - proceed with caution and heed the tags) and tumblr in general are slowly making me slide down the slippery slope into the fandom. Can't say I'm putting up any resistance. The Kinnporsche plotbunnies are breeding in my already overpopulated head.
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Honorable mentions: PayuRain and PrapaiSky. Need I say more?
First Ship Ever:
My first ship must be something like 15+ years ago, so I really don't remember. Also, I don't think I've ever been big on exclusively shipping one pair of characters, so OTPs aren't really my thing. I tend to pick one favourite character and then ship them with pretty much any other character depending on what dynamic I want in the moment. I still do, but now I've started entertaining the idea of just throwing them all together in one big poly relationship.
Last Song You Heard:
Wonder by The Rose has been playing on and off in my head the last few days
youtube
Favorite Childhood Book:
The Redwall books by Brian Jacques.
Currently Reading:
Nothing. I tend to read in short, intense bursts (like a book/long fanfic in 1-2 days), and then I read nothing for a while.
Currently watching:
Love is Better The Second Time Around
Deep Night The Series
Bingeing:
Bloodhounds (rewatch with a friend)
Sandman (watching with a friend)
Currently consuming:
Yoghurt and musli with banana. It's breakfast.
Currently craving:
Juice.
Tagging @ristique-xy @functionalasfuck, @cryingatships, @candidamay, @7nessasaryevils because I'm curious about what's going on in your heads! Do it if you feel like it, ignore it if you don't :)
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dreamingofcalliope · 1 year
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉 {𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜}
When a woman sets him free at the cost of her own life, Dream vows to honour her sacrifice and lay her to rest in the Dreaming, once it is restored... only things don’t quite go to plan when she reawakens unexpectedly.
Pairing: Morpheus x Reader (no y/n used)
Warnings: graphic violence, blood, angst, major character death. basically all the same nasty stuff that happened in the first episode xD
A/N: a little preview of the first chapter of this story! I have no idea how long said story will be, or whether it’ll be all different instalments, I’m just kind of going with the flow right now. It is a fusion between the Sandman show and ideas from the Old Guard (which everyone should go watch too bc amazing)! 
Gif made by me!
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The first shot split the air with a crack, even amidst the sound of shouting, and the splatter of red across the glass of his prison was uncomfortably familiar to Morpheus. 
His heart had not been inclined to hope for help since he had lost Jessamy, and though it still did not now, the similarity of the moment his loyal servant had been struck down was an uncomfortable weight.
The second took the woman to her knees, in a pose not unlike those who supplicated before him in the past, his subjects, in search of an audience with the King of Dreams and Nightmares, while her hand clutched at the new wound spilling red down the front of her body. Her eyes held his gaze, as it had since she’d found her way into the basement a few minutes earlier, and with the weight of resignation in his throat, Morpheus accepted he would now bear witness to another passing. 
Yet it was not shock he found in her features, surprise at a life cut short, rather she seemed… focused; on living, he supposed even as she pitched forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut, until she reached for the binding circle beneath his cage. He dared not look too long, to linger on the markings that had helped keep him prisoner all this time, even now as she reached for them, but the hope bloomed in his chest heedless of the cost of the act. 
The woman would die here, of that he held no doubt, yet that seed of hope sprouted that perhaps her sacrifice would not be completely in vain. In fact he swore it. 
If she were to set him free, he would see that sacrifice honoured.
Another shot came; he unconsciously echoed the flinch she gave but she did not falter. With her own blood coating her hand, and, he suspected, what little strength she had remaining, she swept across the markings; distorting the edges enough to destroy the power they contained. As he watched her head fall and the light die in her eyes, for the first time in over a century, his power spilled beyond the edges of his prison. 
Like a limb tight from disuse, he stretched his influence towards the guard whose gun was still raised. A push and more shots came, this time at the barrier separating them and finally it gave way, shattering under the joint pressure. 
He was free.
Once the guards were taken care of, and his jailers sufficiently punished, Morpheus approached the still form of his saviour. With gentle hands, he gathered her close and stood, escape and his promise at the forefront of his mind; he would not leave her body at the mercy of any servant of the Burgess family. A mixture of emotions; gratitude, sorrow, anger, relief, all warred inside him as he turned towards the swirling portal that would finally take them home and allowed it to carry them away from his prison for good.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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horrorlove14 · 2 years
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His Shy Bookworm - part 01- The Sandman
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Pairing: Morpheus x Shy! Reader
Cute fluff, mutual feelings and awkwardness
You got hired by Lucienne as an extra librarian and caretaker for the Dreaming after becoming an immortal by some chance.
You happily accepted the job as you're a total bookwork at heart but you're also shy and clumsy at the same time.
Little did you know that the King of Dreams himself has become intrigued by you.
He would often watch you from away as you do your job which allows him to get to know you better from your hobbies to your life story as a former mortal back in the waking world.
He would also go out of his way to help you out whether it's getting a book from a high shelf and making sure that you won't trip or fall due to your clumsiness.
He also went to Lucienne for advice on how to capture your heart which she happily does as she sees you as the perfect lover for him.
Meanwhile, you find yourself blushing and getting flustered due to your shy nature whenever he's around you because you're developing genuine feelings for him.
Eventually, as time goes on, you and Morpheus start to spend a lot of time together, reading books and chatting about various topics at the library until the late hours of the night every single day.
On that fateful day, it is you and Morpheus alone at the library as Lucienne went out for the day.
You are just doing your job as always, organising books into the shelves until you end up slipping on the ladder you're on after missing your footing when you're trying to climb down.
Luckily, Morpheus has managed to catch you in time to break the fall. You ended up blushing a lot since you were in his arms before he put you down on the ground.
"Y/N, are you alright, are you hurt?" he asked with a look of concern on his face as he doesn't like to see anyone he cares about getting hurt.
"I-I-I'm alright, my lord and thank you for your help," you say with a nervous tone in your voice before covering your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.
He comes closer and gently wraps his big arms around you and places his cheek onto your head before letting out a sigh from his mouth.
"Y/N, I'm going to say this out loud because I want to tell you how I feel about you. I've been in love with you ever since you came into the Dreaming and you brought something out within me that I haven't experienced for so long.
As you listen to him, you slowly uncover your face as you can feel your heartbeat and his together as proof that both of you have mutual feelings together.
He parted himself enough to see you and lifts your chin with his slender fingers. You can feel his thumb brush against your lips, waiting for him to kiss you.
"My lord, I must confess that I am in love with you too because you let me be myself around you without any judgement. I may be shy, awkward and clumsy at times but my feelings for you are genuine and I want to be by your side until the end of time."
Morpheus is very delighted to hear that you feel the same way as himself so he leaned forward to kiss your lips which he had been dying to taste as if it was an exotic treat from another world.
You return the kiss as you wrap your arms around him because he's your very first kiss and you want to savour it as much you can.
After what felt forever, Morpheus breaks the kiss to place his forehead against yours and cup your face with his hands before letting out a sigh of relief .
"Y/N, you belong to me and I don't plan on ever letting you go because you're so precious to me and I can not stand the idea of you being gone from my life," he said with his deep, husky voice that you came to love.
"Don't worry, my Lord, I don't plan on ever doing that because I'll love only you because you're my darling mister sandman and king of dreams for me," you said with such tender love in your voice which brings him much relief that he needed to hear from you .
He couldn't help but smile at you because he simply adores you before kissing you again since you're simply too irresistible for him.
You return the favour and this is the start to a beautiful love story for both of you.
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End of part 01. I'll start writing part 02 where you and Morpheus are officially lovers and stay tuned.
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A/N: This is my first writing something for one of my favourite fandoms. I'm practising my writing skills and hope to write more content for my favourite fandoms in the future.
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Tag list
@moonmaiden1996
@layla2-49
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tsintotwo · 11 months
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Okay, so here’s the fic masterpost I’ve been meaning to make for ages. Most things I write, I don’t ever name. So I’ll make do with descriptions. The list is in chronological order of me posting these on tumblr.  
1. [The Sandman]- Dream x You HELLA NSFW (minors away!) fic. I mean it- the NSFW is the plot. One day I randomly thought ‘You know what I wanna write? A little teasing-type post about kissing Morpheus.’ Then I actually started writing it, and one thing led to another, and long story short here are the links to the three-parts, completed. You’ll see for yourself. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. 
2.  [The Sandman]- AU!Dream x You, lil dark fantasy. Finished. 
3.  [The Sandman]- Dream x You, being with Morpheus, prompted by Midnights (Taylor Swift) tracklist. Had the idea for it when Midnights came out. It was supposed to be 13 little snippets: some fluff, some angst, and just Morpheus-love overall. Well, I got to track 5 before getting distracted by some completely different idea and abandoning this. :( In that sense, it is unfinished. But on the other hand, since each track name is its own little story, it now exists as a set of five completed snippets. Tracks 1- 4. Track 5.
4. [Sweetbitter]- 59 Hours, Jake x You. (Yep, I actually wrote Sweetbitter/Jake fanfic and yep, this one actually has a name). I have this up on ao3 and this is the summary I wrote for it there:  “When a sudden blizzard in NYC ruins havoc on everything including your plans, a stranger offers you shelter in their apartment. You don't know yet, but you two are going to be stuck there together for 59 hours- knowing and learning each other, doing things you couldn't imagine with anyone else, being something for each other in a way that feels too fast, too confusing, too reckless. How do you say goodbye to this, and yet, how do you hold onto something so fragile?” Sort of a Good Girl x Bad Boy thing. Angst, smut, feels. Six chapters. Complete. TW: Drugs, mention of s**cide. 
Two things. One: I’ve had multiple people tell me that they never actually watched Sweetbitter, but loved this. So, if you haven’t watched the show, don’t let that be the thing that stops you if you’re otherwise interested. With all its B flaws and despite me not actually being a fan of the show, this is one of my most favorite things I’ve ever written. And two: HELLA NSFW WARNING!!!!!
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.
5. [The Sandman]- Dream x Reader. (If you, as a regular human woman, ever were to meet Morpheus in the real world, it could go something like this...)
Finished.
6. [The Sandman]- Dream x Reader. (You are a Dream Vortex, he is the Lord of Dreams- you know. Your typical meet-cute. NOT.) 
Now, you’d think as a writer I’d have a better hold of things like potential story length, overall finish timeline, etc., but nope. Not at all, I am ashamed to say. This story became a behemoth, and really it’s way too much for tumblr. But I also can’t not write when there’s good material in my head just begging to be let out. So what I have now is some very long chapters and a promise of the last one. I will say there’s stuff in this dark story that I really, really love, so maybe it won’t disappoint you either if you’re actually willing to invest time reading it. TW: Graphic violence, sexual assault, r*pe, child abuse. 
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.  
That is it, actually. I either write nothing or way too much- much like most everything else I do, but unlike most everything else I do, I can tell you that writing actually makes me feel like I know what I’m doing. When I write- be it original work or fanfic- I know my place in the world. That’s something, isn’t it?
***Later addition:
7. POV: Morpheus is obessed with you.
(What even is this? Well, at least it's finished. And NSFW, so there's that as well.)
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Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus. - Part 7
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [ENDING] [ALT. ENDING] || Sandman-inspired playlist
The mansion hasn't changed one bit. It looked exactly the same as it did the day you were forced to leave. A strange feeling sprouted in your chest - the very same sensation you felt when you saw Morpheus on the pier. How could it be that days had gone by but the fang of time did not bite down into this house? Was it built with the same arcane element with which Morpheus was created? And if so, was he, too, a house of horrors and woe underneath his handsome looks?
"What a strange feeling, to become a visitor in one's own home," you said quietly as you longingly looked at the bricks you had grown to know so well. Unbeknownst to you, Morpheus was watching your melancholic expression, silently wondering if you, too, looked at him this way.
"This is not your home."
"And yet part of me longs for the days when it was. Curious, isn't it? I broke you out of here and now I'm dragging you back to your prison."
"I came with you on my own accord," he corrected you. To be honest, even if you hadn't asked him to help you, Morpheus would have found a reason to come with you anyway. "Your plan requires a significant amount of preparation and cunningness to be successful."
His observation was in no way revolutionary. "Yes, it does but we do not possess the time required. We must do with what we have. Non est ad astra mollis e terris via," you said. "There is no easy path from earth to the stars." Turning your head towards Morpheus, you met his intense gaze. He noticed how your eye lit up the moment they met his but Dream was quick to discard such sentiment. "Seneca's words. Sometimes I think he knew more about life than any of us."
Morpheus never cared much for philosophy - humanity might be a reasoning species but they are hardly reasonable, so they're pondering about the nature of the world were always wrong in one way or another. To a creature of his sort, human philosophy was as though watching a blind person paint a landscape. Despite his prejudice, he thought that you made Seneca sound akin to an oracle. Perhaps, if he were to understand the teachings of that ancient philosopher, he'd know more about you too? Could a wise Greek be a secret passage into your heart and soul?
"Be careful, Morpheus. If Yasmin was right and I have no reason to doubt her honesty, my father is unpredictable in his anger. It is beyond me to speculate what horrors he will bestow upon you should he catch you once more."
"I can not die," he reminded you.
"But you can still be in pain." Although his yearning heart exclaimed at such a notion, Morpheus couldn't quite understand why you would care about his discomfort. He was an eldritch creature, you have said that yourself multiple times, so physical pain wasn't something unbearable to him. Why did you treat him like he was a fragile human? Was that tenderness, too?
Having said that, you directed your steps to the back of the house, planning on trespassing inwards through the staff door. Seeing you disappear behind perfectly kept bushes and flower beds, Morpheus felt a sudden desire to stop you, to share some kind of blessing with you; to ask you to come back to him, perhaps. Nevertheless, not a word left his mouth. For a second, he even considered a prayer.
Gathering his strength and discarding his gnawing worry for you, Morpheus's booming voice called out to Rodrick who undoubtedly resided within the mansion. It was like challenging someone to a duel but Dream's pride whispered songs of greatness into his spirit - hymns that never once suggested that the wicked mortal could have a chance against him. Although this supposed summon to the contest was entirely your idea, Morpheus had his own reasons to see it through. Yes, it was high time he faced that villain, looked him in the eye and gloated in his triumph. You deserved justice and he deserved peace.
Minutes of complete silence and inaction went by as Morpheus waited for Rodrick in front of the house. Such dismissal of a king's challenge couldn't be read as anything but utterly disrespectful. Was that wicked man trying to humiliate him? Dream's anger only intensified with that thought. Who did Rodrick Burgess think he was? His fingers were growing strained as he kept one of his fists clenched but he couldn't let go - not yet.
Then like an omen of awaited death, the front door unlocked and from behind them emerged the awaited, elderly man. He had a scornful expression on his face but that was to be expected. Rodrick held the rifle high, aiming at Morpheus without even a tremble in his hand. He seemed to be determined for that confrontation to be final, to once and for all decide which one of them was the superior entity.
"Where's that wretched child?" Rodrick called out to Morpheus while pulling back the hammer of the rifle. Just a slight tremble of his index finger could end in a bloodbath. How strange it was, the trust that forms between enemies.
"I came alone, Rodrick Burgess," he lied. "I do not know what child you are speaking of."
"Of course you do, Dream King. That bastard that took pity on you or have you already forgotten that a brat proved to be smarter and more powerful than a supposed king, a god?"
"I do not care for your beliefs, human. I came to retrieve what is mine." Perhaps he meant his mask, which whereabouts remained largely unknown to him, or he meant vengeance. Morpheus himself wasn't sure.
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There, in the distance, you noticed a metallic glistening and your father's low voice carried by the echo of empty plains that surrounded the house. Because of the distance, you couldn't discern what he was saying but if he did face Morpheus at the moment, it couldn't be anything good. The strange shine made your skin crawl despite not being able to give it a proper name at first.
"Dear God, no," you whispered to yourself. Dread, like a lead weight, pulled your stomach towards the ground. If Yasmin was right...
Without much thought, you broke for the two men. Hearing your rushed footsteps, Alex turned around but you were already long gone. For a moment, he considered running after you but he was old enough to know better: he was your little brother, after all, and that meant he had to listen. Given the strange situation in which he had found himself, he wanted to listen, so he carried on expanding the distance from the home that was also his prison, from the father that never treated him like the son he was. If he makes haste, he could cross the Baltic Sea before midnight.
Panting and feeling your legs burn so intensely they were about to give out, you had finally found yourself standing next to Morpheus, your eyes flicking between the barrel of the rifle and your father's irate face. Acknowledging your sudden appearance, Rodrick aimed the firearm at you; on the other side of that barrel lay relief and eternity and, as far as you could tell, your father's fingers were burning to grant you just that. Unconsciously, Morpheus leaned towards you but you didn't notice it either.
"My own child against me," Rodrick spit out. His words were dripping with contempt and any unfamiliar to the case onlookers would never assume you were family. "I'm ashamed to have fathered such a treacherous mind. If I could exchange your life for your brother's, I would. Do not think I would hesitate even for a second."
"Please, father, you don't have to do this," you begged him. He, however, remained unmoved. "We will walk away never to disturb you again. Haven't we all suffered enough?"
"Do not speak to me of suffering, you bastard!" Rodrick's scream was loud enough to scare birds from the nearby trees. "I could have my son and you made sure that the only good thing in my life was never returned to me."
Perhaps that was the way your life was always going to end: with a whimper, as you bled on the doorstep of your childhood home. Like all things that belonged to nature, your life, too, was going to close in a cycle. "I forgive you, father, for all that you have done and didn't manage to."
A deafening gunshot rang in your ears. It was so loud you didn't hear yourself gasp. Once the shock subsided, you grew confused at the lack of pain. Maybe adrenaline had messed with your sense? But then again, not a speck of crimson stained your clothes.
Morpheus fell to the ground with a barely audible groan. Laying at your feet, he tried to prop his body up on one of his arms. For some reason, even the bullet tearing through his body couldn't force his fist to unclench.
"You could have simply granted my wish," Rodrick spoke as he frantically reloaded the rifle. "Tell me, Dream King, is this really worth dying for?"
"Yes," Morpheus whispered.
His hand was trembling but you weren't sure whether it was anger or pain that caused it. Morpheus opened his palm revealing powdery sand. With an effortless blow, he sent the grains drifting into the air. Immediately after, your father was rendered unconscious. Letting out a throaty groan, Morpheus got up on his feet. There was no blood stain visible on his clothes.
The moment Rodrick's limp body hit the ground, a sharp sound of breaking glass resounded. A black, thick mist appeared above his form. The slimy-looking cloud shimmered in the dim light of a cloudy day. It remained mid-air for a short while before dissolving, never leaving even a trace of its existence.
You felt something warm and wet on your hand. Looking down in confusion, you noticed a streak of blood staining your blouse. Its trail led from the burnt mark on your chest right to your fingertip, from where it slowly dripped on the dark soil underneath your feet. Strangely enough, the injury didn't hurt at all. Actually, you doubted whether you had ever felt such unbearable numbness before as though frostbite suddenly gnawed at every inch of your skin.
"A catalyst," you whispered. Truthfully, you should have expected your father to be brilliant in his wickedness.
Probably due to the overwhelming numbness, you couldn't keep your balance and so you stumbled, only to regain composure once you leaned against Morpheus.
"What sorcery is this?" Just when he thought he had finally righted a wrong, a new misdeed appeared. Could he not have even a moment of relief?
"Imagine a volcano in a jar," you said as you absentmindedly wiped your bloodied fingers on your blouse. "If you open the lid carefully, you might light an infinite number of candles. But once the jar breaks? The whole world catches on fire."
At that moment Morpheus realized that his anxieties became reality: your blood shall forever stain his pale skin, no matter the holiness of the water he washes them in. Instead of peace and justice, he had only caused more suffering. This universe could be nothing more than a cynical theatre play.
Dream's hand wrap around your waist before a whirl of sand encircled the two of you. You couldn't have blinked more than two times before your feet were once again standing on the old carpet in your living room. Feeling exhausted and lightheaded, you fell on the floral sofa. Perhaps it was funny or perhaps it was sad that history liked to repeat itself so much.
"Thank you for sparing him," you said in a weak voice.
"I did not spare him, he just did not deserve to die quickly. Now Rodrick Burgess will relive his worst nightmares until I grow bored of his misery."
Seeing as you weren't in the state to continue the discussion, Morpheus wandered towards the mantlepiece. He could, of course, simply leave but the sudden reminder of your mortality made him unable to. The gifts of the upcoming day were unknown to him in the most heartbreaking of ways.
There, on the shelf above the cold fireplace, stood a photograph he never noticed before - not that he had a chance, given the chaotic nature of the recent times he had spent with you. The picture in the frame showed you and your siblings, happily laughing at something. It must have been taken a long time ago as the smallest boy, Alex, was missing a few of his teeth. This happiness... was that what siblinghood felt like to humans? Some romantic part of him was convinced that if he had something like that, he could never truly be lonely. Thinking about his own family for a moment, that portrayed joy felt like Hell on Earth.
"Did we do the right thing?" you asked him quietly.
Dream didn't answer straight away. For a moment, he continued to stare at the photo, taking in the happiness saved in the past. "He who spares the wicked injures the good," Morpheus quoted. He turned his head to you as if he was making sure his point got across. "Also Seneca." Perhaps he didn't care about philosophy but one had to remember that he did live through the history of humankind. He was bound to learn some things even against his will.
For a moment, you were completely silent as you lay on the sofa with your eyes closed. Despite your appearance, he knew you weren't asleep - he felt it. Dream's eyes returned to the picture but he wasn't studying it anymore. Instead, his thought began wandering into utterly fantastic and completely impractical directions. Spending time with you must have planted a seed of wistfulness in him.
"Will you ever, Morpheus?" you broke the pleasant silence. At that moment, in that one sentence, he realized that until the day eternity calls upon him, his conscience shall always speak in your voice. "Grow bored of my father's suffering?"
"One day I will be forced to." He looked over his shoulder at you. Despite his calm demeanour, Dream was wondering whether there was anything he could do to aid your ailment but the more he thought, the more he became convinced that your fate lay not in his own but his sister's hands. Morpheus, an eldritch god whose nature was incomprehensible to the human mind, was powerless in the face of mortality. "When this universe caves to be replaced with another. Until then, it shall bring me joy."
"You deserve peace, dear Morphius," you spoke in a quiet, mild voice. "You deserve closure I can not give you."
His tongue wanted to spit out words of cynism, phrases that would remind you of his egotistic superiority but Dream kept his mouth closed. Between callousness and silence, he preferred to grace you with quietness. You could give him a lot more than closure and he knew that - he felt it.
Now that immediate danger had passed, you could closely inspect the strange markings that appeared on your skin the moment the catalyst vial broke. The black lines appeared like veins or roots, wrapping around your skin as if their purpose was to keep you in some kind of a cage. They were numb to the touch, rendering your own body completely foreign to you. Perhaps that's exactly what was happening: this strange force was pushing your soul out of the corporeal form you naively regarded as your own.
For a moment, you thought you heard the distant meowing of a cat but it was a silly thought that you quickly dismissed - no felines lived in the vicinity of your house. Strangely enough, Morpheus heard it too.
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Are you ready for the 'super fin'?
Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @rosaren2498 @jessiboobdbdb @chantzmar @lexi-anastasia @bisexualunicronrunningloose @farintonorth @oo0lady-mad0oo@all-bi-myselfs-blog @piperstofu101 @magic-magnoliaa @kotonei-molyneux @wheresmyboo @supermegapauselouca @sloanexx @rockergirl57 @aizawa-emma @ruyi-years @commanderfreethatdust @sapphireonline @izzicle@mxxny-lupin @shadowluna25
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thisgameissonintendo · 10 months
Text
here’s the thing about me + lockwood content
before lockwood & co. i wasn’t really in the mood for editing. yes, i did come up with videos and photo edits but i wasn’t really enjoying it much. it was the same all over again. a new episode - a new video. don’t get me wrong, i loved the show (still do, it’s magnum p.i. i’m talking about) but i’ve been editing that for years now. 
every now and again a show was coming back with a new season. the umbrella academy for example. i did my usual “new season = one edit with number 5“ and then stopped (because there’s not really much content to use when there’s 50 main characters and you’re only willing to sit down to edit one of them). 
then outer banks came back, i thought “hey, time for a new rafe edit“. he wasn’t in it much. i didn’t come up with a video. fine, okay, back to magnum p.i. (which i still LOVE to death, don’t get me wrong, i would always come up with edits, it’s my 2nd favorite show now) but sometimes it’s nice to have different characters to work with. 
wednesday was released and i really liked that, especially tyler. i made some photo edits and a few videos (4 or something). and what then? back to the old routine? 
no, lockwood & co. was out. i remembered i had seen the trailer a while ago and liked it so i clicked ‘play‘. and look where we are now. i don’t know the last time one character has sparkled any interested in me and got me this motivated. a new one as well, might i add. i don’t do well with new characters since i always have to kinda let them get to me first, you know. it’s quite the process, too, when you want to edit. you have to get the episodes, the scenes you wanna use, you have to select 0.04 seconds from episode 1 and then 0.02 seconds from episode 8 because you think they could work really well together. so it’s a lot to think about even for short videos or photo edits (find the right episode for a certain scene, take screenshots, have ideas of what you wanna do with that screenshot, find good fonts, effects,…) i think you get me. it takes a lot of dedication (for me) to accept a character. and it’s not like i don’t like most of them. i like a lot. for example i’ve enjoyed characters from titans, fate: the winx saga, the sandman, hsmtmts and so on. 
so, what i usually do when i watch a new show is play it in the background. i don’t know any character - i’m not interested in any of them. i press ‘play’ and scroll through instagram or twitter. however with lockwood & co., i didn’t. i had my phone sitting right next to me but i didn’t click on instagram. i didn’t click on twitter. i actually watched the show from the first second on. for some reason it was very special to me, i can’t explain it. it felt like i had found THE show (and character) for me. the one show that could get me back into editing, actually loving what i do and create. and it did. look where i am now. 
i’m very emotional about this, i cannot even find proper words to express how thankful i am for all of this. i wake up in the morning and am excited about the evening because that’s the time of day i 1) have time to re-watch the show 2) read the books (again) or 3) edit. so this whole saving campaign is not only a matter of stopping netfl** bullshit with unnecessary cancelations, it’s also a matter of heart for me. lockwood & co. is my comfort show. i’ve found it after so many years and i didn’t even know i needed one but i did. lockwood & co. is not your ‘typical ghost show’. lockwood is not your typical good-looking, dick-ish protagonist, he’s way more. he’s the reason i’m doing all of this. i’m trying my best to help with whatever i can because they all deserve to come back for at least one more season. so, every day i stay up until 3-4am, get up at 9am the same day and i don’t regret a single thing. i wanna do this. and i know we can all help them get a new season, together.  
it’s been four months (and two days) since the release of lockwood & co. in these four months i’ve been the most creative i’ve ever been, i’ve met the most kind people on social media and i’ve never loved editing more than i do now. and all thanks to anthony lockwood.
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mirtola87 · 5 months
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"Tale as old as time", or how Good Omens planted a seed in my soul that's growing more and more (bettah) [1/2]
Hi everyone, I'm new here, and I just wanted to share my totally-personal-maybe-relatable experience with Good Omens, trying to figure out why it became sort of an obsession for me. This is a 9-years story so far, and - spoiler alert! - the passage of time played a major role in the evolution of my perception. (English is not my native language, so please forgive my faults!) I first read the book about nine years ago. I was in a public library in Bologna doing research for my PhD in literature, when I stumbled upon the Italian edition. I was driven by the funny title, which was translated as "Buona Apocalisse a tutti!" (we could back-translate it to English as something like "Merry Apocalypse!" or "Happy Armageddon Everyone!"). I was Christian raised, and among all the books of the Bible, St. John's Apocalypse had always fascinated me, I guess because it was the one that most resembled a fantasy book. So I took the book from the shelf and started reading it. Soon I realized that I didn't need it for my thesis because it didn't fit the topic (I did use Coraline, Mirror Mask and Sandman, instead!), but it bewitched me right from the first lines, so I decided to put the library copy back on the shelf, purchase a copy in English and read it for pure pleasure. I enjoyed it so much that it became one of my favourite books ever. I was young and bold and had no idea that almost ten years later that story was going to mean so much to me and tear me apart. Time passed by, and my life went on. In 2019, when the show came out, I was eager to watch it. The book was a masterpiece, and the show proved to live up to it. David Tennant and Michael Sheen were absolutely perfect in their interpretations and made me love the characters even more. While reading the book, I had found the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley fascinating and irresistibly funny, but I didn't sense any love vibrations between them (and apparently they weren't supposed to be there yet, as we know from Neil that the love story is canon for the series but not for the book). I didn't read anything about the show before watching it, so I was quite surprised when I realized that there was something between the angel and the demon that I hadn't noticed 5 years before. I didn't see it coming at all, and I was all like, "Wait a sec... are they FLIRTING? I didn't remember that..." It was as in one of my all-time favourite songs: "Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly". This unexpected twist left me somewhat bewildered: it was like I had suddenly realized that two long-time friends of mine were having a crush on each other. It was a bit odd as I was totally clueless about it before that moment, but then the season ended more or less like the book did, the way I already knew. That was cozy and reassuring, and all those longing glances between Crowley and Aziraphale were just an extra icing on the cake. At the end of the story, their love hadn't been named (yet), just suggested. That happy ending was nice, gentle and romantic, leaving their relationship open to interpretation and imagination. I turned off my TV with a deep sense of amusement and satisfaction, and kept on with my life. Four more years passed, then a friend of mine told me that S2 was out (I'm not very good at keeping up with news myself, I admit). I knew that there wasn't any sequel of the book, so I was surprised and really didn't know what to expect, but I knew Neil Gaiman himself wrote the script, so I was confident it had to be good. And of course it was. Since my partner hadn't watched S1, I decided to rewatch it with him before starting S2. This time I KNEW that there was something going on between Aziraphale and Crowley, and the bewilderment of the first watch gave way to something different, a sort of complicity. I found myself shipping them fondly and smiling at every little clue of their untold love. "Ever just the same / Ever a surprise / Ever as before / Ever just as sure / As the sun will rise." Life was good. [Continues in Part 2]
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aralezinspace · 1 year
Note
You said that you were taking Sandman fan fiction requests. I hope this one is a good idea: Reader is a preschool teacher who plans to read the Hans Christian Andersen story "Ole Lukoie" to her class, which she mentions to Morpheus since the titular character seems to be a bit similar to him. The day this happens, Morpheus shows up to visit the class to surprise the Reader and answer some of the kids' questions about him.
Storytime
A/N: omg you have NO IDEA how giddy I was to get this request! I work with toddlers and this is TOTALLY the kind of thing I'd do if they were older than 2 or 3 xD my 4 year olds from two years ago would have loved this. Thank you for sending this, hope you enjoy!
Here's a link to the full story of Ole Lukoie
~~Requests for Morpheus and the Doctor (9-13) are open!~~
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The floor of my living room looked like a classroom exploded. To be fair, it was kind of true- I was working on my lesson plan for the upcoming week, and all my papers were spread out on the floor around me, my laptop perched on my legs. A mug of black coffee was on the table behind me.
It was almost midnight.
I felt the hairs on my arms stand up along with the rush of air that announced my boyfriend had arrived- as if “boyfriend” could encompass everything that came with being in a relationship with Dream of the Endless.
His eyebrows flew into his hair as he took in the pre-K lesson carnage. “Beloved,” he began slowly, “It is rather late, why are you still working?”
“My lesson plan is due tomorrow for observation. I’m almost done, I just have to get everything organized.” Dream watched me close my laptop and stack the papers in their specific order. No doubt he was ready and waiting to make me rest the minute I zipped up my bag.
I walked back into the living room, where Morpheus immediately pulled me onto the couch next to him. Exhaustion settled over me like a blanket as I curled into his side. “I admire your dedication to your work and your students,” he purred, “But you need rest. I refuse to let you burn yourself out.”
I pouted at him, my mind still whirling with everything I needed to do. “What do you have planned for the little ones?” he asked softly, gently rubbing my back. A smile touched my face.
“We’re learning about different fairytales.” I giggled somewhat nervously as I realized I was about to explain my fairytale lesson to the Prince of Stories. “Do a different one every day for the next two weeks- all the usuals, Goldilocks, Three Little Pigs, Rapunzel…” I giggled again.
“I found one I hadn’t heard of, by Hans Christian Anderson. Ole Lukoie.” It may have been a trick of the light, but I thought I saw a knowing smirk touch Dream’s face. “The main character sounds strangely similar to someone I know- a magical being that controls dreams and helps people fall asleep with sand… You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”
A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “What ever do you mean, my love?” I gave him a playful smack on his firm chest; the fact that I didn’t break my hand on his immovable form was a sign of just how relaxed he was. “You know exactly what I mean, oh inspirational Dream Lord, he who puts ballads and epics in peoples’ brains.” Morpheus laughed again, this one full and beaming. God he was so beautiful when he laughed.
“And when do you plan to share this tale with your students?”
“Thursday.” I paused, a suspicious little thought taking hold. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” was his almost immediate response. I could see the wheels turning in his mind behind star-dusted eyes. He stared straight ahead for a moment before giving me another mischievous smirk.
“Alright,” I huffed playfully, settling back into his chest with a yawn. “Keep your secrets.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead as my eyes fluttered closed.
“Sleep well, beloved.”
~~~
The week passed normally, both in the waking world and the Dreaming, and I had almost forgotten my conversation with Morpheus about fairytales. I was too preoccupied with writing my kids’ report cards and handling the daily chaos. One kid went home with a stomach bug, another was absent with pink eye, they ran wild on the playground, it never ended.
Thursday came, and I woke feeling especially well rested, no doubt Morpheus’ doing. His scent still lingered on my blankets; he must have spent most of the night in the waking. I went through the motions of my morning routine, putting my coffee in a travel mug so I could get to my classroom a little earlier.
My kids started coming in about an hour after I did- time always got away from me when I started prepping and organizing my room. Only a few were home sick, and the rest seemed in good spirits, coughs and runny noses aside.
They played until morning snack, when I usually read a story. All eleven of them sat at the table with a small cup of pretzels, eating and talking loudly to each other. I pulled out a copy of Ole Lukoie I had printed. “Alright my friends!” I called. Eleven pairs of eyes looked up at me, at least for a second before going back to their pretzels. I was about to go into the story when there was a knock on my door. “Oh! I wonder who that is!”
I opened the door to my principal… and my boyfriend, smiling no less. “Hello!” she began with a wave, “This young man said he was visiting your room as a guest reader!” Morpheus stepped into the room and hovered awkwardly by the cubbies.
I choked on my snort of laughter at “young man”; the coughing fit gave me a moment to think of a response. Poor Morpheus looked concerned that I was about to hack up a lung. My principal left with another cheery wave. My kids stared at Morpheus with wide eyes, trying to make him make sense in their four-year-old brains. I took a breath and feel back on the age-old pre-K advice: just roll with it.
I beckoned him to the front of the room and said, “Yes, I forgot to tell you I was bringing in a guest reader today. This, is Mr. Morpheus. Let’s say hello!” He gave them a nod as eleven versions of “Hello Mr. Morpheus” came from pretzel-filled mouths.
I passed him the copy of the story with a beaming, slightly unhinged grin. “Mr. Morpheus is going to read our story today, so let’s show him your best listening ears.” I pulled out one of the tiny plastic chairs and sat with my kids, mirroring their eager anticipation.
Dream looked uncomfortable for only a moment before the Prince of Stories arrived in full glory. He cleared his throat and began to read:
“There is nobody in the world who knows so many stories as Ole-Luk-Oie, or who can relate them so nicely. In the evening, while the children are seated at the table or in their little chairs, he comes up the stairs very softly, for he walks in his socks, then he opens the doors without the slightest noise, and throws a small quantity of very fine dust in their eyes, just enough to prevent them from keeping them open, and so they do not see him.”
His soothing, rumbling voice had them instantly spellbound, hanging on to his every word, pretzels long forgotten. My kids were never this comfortable or well-behaved with guests, but some part of them must have known Morpheus to be the one from their dreams, keeping watch over their sleep.
I was just as entranced, staring at him with a dopey, love-struck smile as he worked his magic. He would occasionally glance up from the page and make eye contact with one or two kids before his gaze landed on me, then returned to the page. He was relaxed, at ease, and dare I say, enjoying himself. His deep blue eyes were practically glittering.
The kids all clapped when he was finished- I have no shame admitting that I did as well. “Right friends, what do we say to Mr. Morpheus for reading us a story?”
“THANK YOOUUU!!”
I laughed and glanced bashfully at Dream as he closed the book. Both corners of his mouth were lifted in a small but genuine smile. I could tell he had that glowing warmth in his chest, the kind that only came from being openly adored by a gaggle of toddlers. He practically glowed under the fluorescent classroom lights, reminding me in that moment that gods and Endless thrived on being shown love and kindness as much as humans did.
I sniffed and got a hold on my emotions that were yelling for me to wrap Dream in my arms and shower him in praise, affection, kisses and adoration. Listening to his voice for ten minutes straight and watching him with the kids I loved like my own had gotten me kind of worked up. “Now then, does anyone have questions for Mr. Morpheus about our story?” A few raised their hands. “Yes, Cody.”
“Mr. Mow-ee-us, guess what! My brother has a sandbox like in the story!” Dream looked perplexed; I stood next to him as backup.
“That’s really cool!” I responded for him. “Sarah, what’s your question?”
“Teacher is Mr. Morbus your boyfriend?”
I froze, feeling his eyes on me. I should have seen this coming. I let out a small sigh. “Yes, Mr. Morpheus is my boyfriend.”
“Are you gonna be married? My mommy’s married-“
I stopped them before that line of inquiry could go any further. “Okay, David you had a question?”
“Do you have a cat? I have two cats at home.”
“No,” Dream began somewhat haltingly. “I do have a raven, a bird. His name is Matthew.”
“That’s a silly name!” one kid shouted. A cup of pretzels clattered to the floor.
“Okay, one more question before recess. Elena?”
“Why do you have a really long coat?”
“Because… I find it comfortable, and it’s part of my job.”
Before another kid could shout a question, there was another knock at the door and Mike, our hall monitor, stuck his head in. “Who’s ready to go outside?” he called with a smile.
“Alright friends, get your coats and go with Mr. Mike, have fun!” A stampede of four-year-olds thundered to the door, some of them shouting goodbye to Morpheus as they left.
Silence descended as the last child left. I took a huge breath and sat on the table, smiling at Dream. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and the gleam in his eye was positively devious. I laughed and said, “You look entirely too pleased with yourself, love.”
Morpheus sat next to me on the table, our shoulders lightly brushing together. His warmth was comforting and helped calm my spike of adrenaline from the transition to recess. He murmured, “Your students are certainly… precocious.” I snorted at his choice of words. “I can see why you love them so much.”
“Yea,” I sighed with an adoring smile. “They drive me up a wall sometimes, but I really do love them.” I gave him a little nudge. “Thank you for coming, the kids really enjoyed it. I enjoyed it, listening to you read.” Dream pressed a kiss to my temple and my whole body glowed with warmth.
“It was my pleasure,” he breathed, “And I would be glad to read to you any time you desire.”
“I just may take you up on that.” I heaved myself off the table and started picking up empty cups. “I need to get ready for the afternoon; you can stay if you want, I’ll just be working. But, you know what that’s like.”
Morpheus chuckled and headed to the door. “I would like that very much, but I must return to the Dreaming. I have some work of my own to finish before I see you tonight.”
“Fair enough.” I grabbed his hand and gave him a deep kiss before he could leave. “I love you, see you tonight.”
He took my hand and ghosted his lips over my knuckles, the gesture sending waves of tingles up my arm to my entire body. “Until tonight, my love.”  
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rhosmeinir · 6 months
Text
Fictober 2023 #4
Prompt #4 - "Do you even know what this means?"
Fanfiction: Good Omens/The Sandman
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Pairing: Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow
Other Notes: In which Dream pays Crowley a visit one night. 915 words!
It was a picturesque scene. In the garden of a small cottage, fragrant with fruit-tree flowers and bursting with the colors of their wilder cousins, Crowley and Aziraphale sat at a sturdy, weathered oak table; the kind of table that held as many stories as it had rings, and could bear up under as many plates of cake and dishes of pudding as one could load it with. They were laughing together, Aziraphale chucking behind his serviette so as not to spew crumbs, and Crowley guffawing at his own wit. His eyes were golden-brown and unshaded, and met the tinkling blue of Aziraphale’s without any worry that someone might interrupt them. The weather was perfect: warm and fine, with enough of a soft breeze to stir their many plants gently now and then. A ginger cat was curled up in a vacant chair at the table, but now it yawned, stretched, and leaped lightly into Crowley’s lap. He dropped his hand to stroke the cat, which made its biscuits against his leg as he watched Aziraphale select one from the plate in front of him, and sighed with content.
“Leave me alone, Dream.”
The Crowley standing outside the garden watching the pastoral events within unfold muttered darkly. Next to him, the tall, slight figure all cloaked in black, who had just silently appeared, looked at him mildly.
“This again, Crowley?”
“I said, leave. me. alone.” But Crowley was familiar enough with Morpheus’s silences to know that the Endless wouldn’t vanish just because he said so. He inhaled exasperatedly. “Yes, this again. What, are my dreams not creative enough for you? Not enough variety? Why don’t you go visit Muriel, I’m sure there’s plenty of nonsense there to entertain you.” The faintest of laugh-like sounds escaped Morpheus through his nose, and he shook his head.
“No. Muriel has no need to me tonight.”
“Oh, and I do?”
“Yes.”
Crowley turned away from Morpheus, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His shoulders hunched of their own accord, and he bit the inside of his cheek hard. I don’t need you you stupid daydream idiot- was the beginning of the stream of profane thought that churned inside Crowley’s mind, but he kept it behind his lips. He did not want to rage. He did not want to fight. And Dream was not stupid. All he wanted was—
“What about this idea occupies you so, angel?”
Like a spooked animal, Crowley jerked around. His face impassive as ever, Morpheus was still watching the scene in the garden. The cat had gone to sleep, and another biscuit had disappeared from the plate.
“Don’t call me that,” Crowley snarled, his fists balling up inside their pockets, “I am not an angel.”
“You were when we met.”
“That was a long time ago, Dream. A lot’s happened since then.” For the first time, Morpheus turned his head to look at Crowley, and meet his eyes.
“I don’t think you ever stopped, really.”
Crowley glowered, but held his counterpart’s void-like gaze. The flickering lights within it reminded him of the stars. They stood like that for a long time, until at last Crowley asked,
“You know what happened to Aziraphale?”
It wasn’t really a question, but Morpheus nodded anyway. Crowley turned to look back at the garden, and its blissfully unaware occupants. It was shortly after Aziraphale had returned to Heaven that Morpheus had begun to appear in his dreams. Not every night, and not every dream, but despite the two beings having known each other since Morpheus had emerged in the Universe, he had never visited Crowley so often before. He was too subtle for it to be a coincidence.
“Well,” Crowley returned uncomfortably to Morpheus’s question, “when I think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t— if it hadn’t all gone wrong— when I think about what could be, if he came back— …this is what I dream.”
Morpheus was silent again, and this time, it did provoke Crowley.
“Do you even know what this means?!” He burst out, gesturing wildly with an arm at the garden, the cottage, and the cat. The uninterrupted idyll was punctuated by another chorus of laughter from below, followed by the indistinguishable conversation of two voices. “’Course you do,” Crowley subsided, pushing his hands back into his pockets with a slump, “you’ve been around long enough.”
“I have.” Morpheus replied. “I understand.”
Crowley glanced sideways at his companion.
“Yeah, I s’pose you do.”
Silence stretched out again, as they watched the garden together. The wind stirred hair scarlet and black, birds sang, and now and then Morpheus brushed away a fuzzy bee that had become too interested in him. Neither paid any attention to the passage of time, but time did pass in the dream. The air took on a slight chill as the sun began to go down, and below in the garden a lamp was lit, bathing the table in its warmth and light. Glasses were raised, and the ting of glass on glass was unnaturally loud in the twilight. When Crowley spoke, his voice was cracked, and his question encompassed all the questions he yearned to ask, and contained all the multitudes of his joy, pain, and every defiant feeling he had ever felt in the existence he had shared with his lost angel.
“Why?”
Dream of the Endless raised one hand, and laid it on Crowley’s shoulder with the sort of firm, gentle kindness that requires no explanation, and answered.
“Love.”
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