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auroral-melody · 5 years

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Why do you ship Lucifer/Dream ? I'm just curious.

NONNY I LOVE YOU FOR GIVING ME AN OPPORTUNITY TO JUST YELL ABOUT THEM

As with most of the convoluted, context-less things I post (e.g., the full-on rewritten characterization of Beelzebub in Good Omens), it started with a simple conversation between myself, @procrastinatingbookworm, and @aqueeraphale…and ended up in a hence unwritten fanfic that maybe we’ll get around to eventually.

Put it this way: self-written fanfiction is the answer to why I ship them. I need to actually write it on a page for y’all. I’m not really going to go into ~Oh, My Ship Is Canon~ because it’s clearly not. I’ll point out a few things in canon I want to talk about, but this isn’t a “I ship them because [] and [] in canon” it’s a “I ship them because I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT STORIES I WROTE/MY FRIENDS WROTE”.

So how did this happen?

I’m pretty sure it started with something along the lines of generally agreeing Dream being bi, on the basis of Lucifer Pretty. Which evolved into an, “oh, that’s fun! let’s write it” RP, along with some doodles (back in May 2018. My art has improved since, and my character design thoughts, but)

Which turned into the concept that basically goes as follows

- Morpheus lonely and depressed- Death essentially brings him to Lux, to definitely set him up with Luci bc hey obvs they’re both bi disasters. Maybe see what happens- Morpheus voice I don’t dance- Death voice Okay I’m lesbian but he’s being nice and offering so I’ll dance with Luci instead- Morpheus voice [shocked pikachu meme]

Basically, it boils down to the fact that Morpheus was a very…lonely and sad person and tends to make enemies easily. Lucifer clearly doesn’t hate him, or Dream would probably be dead in a ditch, but he’s obviously engaged in their relationship as friendly rivals. Lucifer has just left Hell, and is kinda not knowing what to do with himself. He’s looking for something new and different.

They’re both incredibly touchstarved/affection-starved. Morpheus intentionally isolates himself from his friends and family, not seeking out friends, while Lucifer has spent the last billions of years completely alone in Hell.

So the setup here works pretty well. Death wants to help her brother, Lucifer is like, the one person who isn’t pissed at him, Morpheus Sad.

From then on is essentially just what we’ve written. They end up…somewhat dependent on one another for comfort because they just aren’t good at investing in any other relationships. And Death and Lucifer become more friendly.

Morpheus and Luci’s relationship is…tumultuous at best. They care for each other, but they cling so much to the One Thing they like at the moment. It’s not exactly the best thing. So the fact that Dream transformed into Daniel was pretty awful for everyone involved.

This AU fits in with the Lucifer continuity mostly based on Lucifer taking place shortly after Sandman ends. Dream is not often brought up, but allow me to go through some places where he is, and how I interpret them in context of the AU.

Obviously, this will have some spoilers. Also light NSFW art.

Lucifer (2000), issue #8.

[Image Description: Four panels of the Lucifer comic. The first is a backdrop, with Lucifer’s text saying, “But to Dream of the Endless, I imagine it would look like poaching, pure and simple. And since he’s the gamewarden he wouldn’t like that at all.” The second panel shows him holding a sword over a goddess’s son. The goddess, Izanami-no-Mikoto, looks on. She is made of stone. He says, “He’ll do it. I won’t even need to compel him. If I speak his name, he’ll come, and see what you’ve made here. So it’s your call, Queen of Death. Heads I win, and tails -- tails it all comes down.” The third panel shows the goddess holding up a hand to stop him. The fourth, the kneeling son says, “She offers atonement, Lucifer Morningstar. She offers your wings.” End description.]

In the AU, it makes a lot of sense that Lucifer would be able to easily summon Dream of the Endless with a single word. “He’ll do it. I won’t even need to compel him” is an interesting phrase. The absolute certainty in Dream’s actions – even if this is after Morpheus’s transformation (which I’m not sure of), Lucifer characterizes Dream as though he knows him well.

Oof. Lucifer: Nirvana.

[Image description: A watercolor cream and purple comic panel. In the distance, there is a boat. From the boat, Dream of the Endless says, “Bearing in mind our previous meetings, Lucifer Morningstar, might I suggest a bargain? I will ask no favors if you will offer me no gifts.” End description.]

This is the only conversation I recall in Lucifer or Sandman in which Daniel!Dream and Lucifer speak to one another. Yet Dream says,

“Bearing in mind our previous meetings, Lucifer Morningstar, might I suggest a bargain? I will ask no favors if you offer me no gifts.”

In the AU, their relationship soon after Dream becomes this version is tentative. Hostile at worst. They might be trying to figure out what comes next.

[@procrastinatingbookworm and I did write a fic on this! Find it here!]

Either way, they’ve talked before.

[Image description: A close picture, misty, cream and purple, watercolor, of a small boat, silhouetted. Dream’s silhouette is on the right, along with a small bird perched on the end of the boat. Lucifer is sitting, lounging on the left side of the boat. Lucifer says, “The situation isn’t likely to call for either. Your predecessor preferred a corkscrew to a stiletto. What’s your position?” End description.]

How did they end up on a boat in the middle of nowhere? Lucifer looks supremely comfortable, lounging, completely trusting that Dream offers him no harm. They’re standing, very awkwardly, on opposite sides of the boat.

Lucifer is making a metaphor here, regarding how Morpheus was not very to-the-point. He knew how Morpheus worked, how he thought. He’s asking in an almost affronting way: “What’s your position?” that could be interpreted as curious or as a thinly veiled hostility.

[Image description: A watercolor of Dream’s profile, somewhat silhouetted. He has white hair. He says, ‘By all means let us be direct. Someone has used human dreamers to stage an assault on you. I assure you, this someone has attracted my attention, too. The matter will be dealt with.” End description.]

Dream is taking this matter very seriously. It just seems that Morpheus may not have put as much attention into random attacks, but Dream is very involved. In the AU, this is kind of because Dream is keeping an eye out for Lucifer.

This conversation just hints, to me, of much more backstory between them.

They’ve been trying to bargain, offering favors or gifts to one another – something they don’t really have a good reason to do in the comics, except maybe to secure an alliance, but that feels…?? Well, considering the rest of the conversation…

[Image description: two panels, watercolor. The left is Lucifer’s face, and he says, “Actually I intend to deal with it myself. It would be unfortunate if our investigations hampered each other.” The right panel is of Dream, with a hand on his waist, looking down. He says, “I am interpreting that statement as a threat. Very well. This touches profoundly on my interests, but you are the injured party. Your rights are paramount.” End description.]

Lucifer is certainly difficult to make an alliance with. (Tangent, but I love this issue’s art style.) Dream still seems surprised – “Very well.” He is respecting Lucifer’s somewhat “bugger off” statement.

[Image description: A watercolor landscape shot of Lucifer on the left, with black wings spread, and Dream on the right, turned away from both the camera and Lucifer. Dream is saying, “I will conduct my own inquiries, along avenues that will not intersect with your own. Whatever I discover I will pass on to you. Via an intermediary, of course.” Lucifer replies, “As you like. But somewhere discreet. No white ravens.” He is referencing the bird also present but off-panel. End description.]

At this point, Dream turns mostly away from him. In my eyes, I see this as hurt/deflecting, supported by the fact that he says he will pass information via an intermediary – unnecessary, it feels, considering they’ve been talking, they’ve had multiple conversations before...it’s very sudden. Feels like it was based off of what Lucifer said. Which was a threat, but still, Dream knows how to not cross boundaries and get himself killed from a threat.

Lucifer doesn’t seem to have a strong opinion on this, or rather, he says, “As you like.” Letting Dream do whatever.

I don’t really have much to say on that part. It’s just a really fascinating conversation.

The Sandman (1989) Issue 72:

[Image description: Mazikeen and Lucifer sitting on what looks like a bench or stone beside one another. Mazikeen is to the left. She has an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. Lucifer has his hands steepled in front of his face and his expression is unreadable, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Mazikeen is almost leaning on him. She is wearing a red dress with no sleeves. Lucifer is wearing a blue suit. Both have curled hair, and Mazikeen is not wearing a mask. Overlaid, there is text from Matthew the raven, talking about Morpheus’s death. Matthew says, “I mean, Despair may be the thing that comes after hope, but there’s still hope. Right? When there’s no hope you might as well be dead. What’s in my heart?” End description.]

I find this significant in the AU because, firstly, it’s a point where Mazikeen shows affection to Lucifer. She has her arm around him. It feels...comforting, to me. Secondly, it’s the one panel of Lucifer I can find in the Wake -- and it’s when Matthew is talking about how he cares about Dream, and he’s figuring out his relationship with this new Dream.

Overall, Lucifer clearly respects Dream as just...another individual. He attends his funeral. He speaks with him multiple times.

In our AU, he and Dream are happily married, and their relationship post-Morpheus is settled, loving, happy. Because I love happy endings!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to shoot me a question about my thoughts on this AU. Because I have a LOT.

#Anonymous #my posts #asks #answers #dream / lucifer #i also ship john and lucifer ama #constantine i mean #listen at this point it's luci/dream/maze and maze/death and maze/beatrice and maze/constantine/luci #i have a lot of ships

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 5 years

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Out Of The Woods (2/?)

This multi chap fic has been one that I've wanted to write for a while. I'm hoping to connect a few loose ends, since my series is getting closer to the end. Don't worry, I still got a couple of fics left in me. I'd love to thank @xerxezra whose conversations with me are always inspirational. I'd also like to thank @dorkydisappointment whose writing got my creative juice flowing and @hoodoo12 who continues to inspire me all the time.

Reference to the crystal necklace a can be found in my fic The Language Of Flowers and to safety measures in Sentimental Reasons. And finally, references to the woman in Ricks journal is from What You Found Amongst The Pages. I know, that was shameless self promotion ;P

If you haven't read part 1, then heres a link (Read Chapter 1)

In this fic the reader tries to uncover the mystery of the artist behind Zeta-7s portrait.

----------------------

Chapter 2: The Girl Who Loved Him Before

You couldn't sleep. It wasn't so much the bed, which was much harder than the one you had back home, but your thoughts. Ugh, why couldn't you just turn your brain off? If you could, then maybe you wouldn't be up at 2 in the morning questioning your life choices; that or it was because you were in an unfamiliar place.

You thought of taking out your laptop to type out the draft for a new story idea you had, or to take another sedative, but you decided that maybe you could read one of the magazines you saw on the coffee table instead. Carefully, you cracked the door to your room open, checked to see if the coast was clear before you tiptoed towards the living room. Next to the couch, was a rustic coffee table created out of an old tree trunk; on it were coasters made from a young pine. Next to the pile of coasters were old science fiction magazines; all of them older than yourself. And since you couldn't find the book you saw earlier, you picked up the stack and slipped back into your room.

Just like you did when you were a kid, you hid under the duvet with a flashlight. Each magazine was in its own sleeve, and you shuffled through them until you found a hand full you liked. The one with Gort on the cover had original stories that had been sent in by fans; your favorite being The Day The Earth Stood Stupefied, which was a story about how Gort and Klaatu managed to control the masses with charisma and Rock n Roll. Another one had a series of stories which revolved around a lonely dendrologist, who alienated everyone he knew in his pursuit of knowledge; whose increased disdain for humans had led him to madness; a marriage to the forest, and whose offspring walked the earth, searching for their place in the world. The other magazines turned out to be comic books, laced with outdated tropes and humorous ads for sea monkeys and x-ray goggles. Though, the one that interested you most was the small booklet for a funeral home.

Strange, why would this be here?

You pulled the covers down, glanced at the door just to make sure it wouldn't open before you hid again, and flipped through the booklet. From different burial arrangements to simple and ornate caskets, you assumed that either he helped with a burial or had planned one. Poor man. You placed it back in the middle of the stack where you had found it and returned the lot of it to its original place. Maybe trying to write might help quiet your brain after all.

____________________

You woke up; the cause being from the sounds which came from outside. Slipping your feet into some slippers, you stepped out of your bedroom, finding that Rick was neither in his room, kitchen, or living room. The noises got louder and seemed to be coming from the back of the house. So feeling brave, because you could totally take care of yourself, you grabbed the silly dancing moose statue from the dining table which doubled as a banana holder and stepped outside, only to find Rick pause; his ax lifted above his head, with raised brow perplexed as to what you were doing before returning to his task. “Oh, you're chopping wood.”

Log after log, he split them into smaller pieces. You had never seen him chop wood, but at the rate and diligence in which he was, made you wonder if he had cybernetic enhancements like other Ricks did; it certainly would explain a few things. When you realized that you were still holding the statue, you could only giggle at your silliness and set it down beside you as you took a seat on the porch steps; not only relieved there wasn't an intruder but pleasantly surprised by this display of masculinity. “Rick, why are you chopping wood? It's not to impress me, is it? Cause if it is, it's totally working.”

Leaning the ax against the stump, he pulled off his sweater, having warmed up from the exertion, using it to wipe his sweaty face. The t-shirt that was underneath his sweater clung to him, outlining the shape of his lean torso. Wow. “There's n-no central heating and there's going to be a cold front t-t-t-tonight. I um - I wanted to make sure there would be enough firewood.”

“Well, nothing warm hands and a pillow fort couldn't solve. Right?”

“Hohoho, n-no. Though it would be nice if that's all it - it took.”

Goodness, did you love what you were seeing, regretful that you didn't have your phone to take a pic. If he was more confident, then he'd certainly be the death of you, strolling over with a confident swagger but it didn't matter. You were so lucky to have him; dorky and all. “Rick, could you come here for a moment? I want to show you something.”

By now, you'd think he'd catch on to your mischief, but even so, he obeyed; how cute. He walked towards you, unassuming, and you stood and waited for him to be close enough so that you could lean over and kiss him. He squirmed when you did this because he was all sweaty and wanted to be all nice and clean before making any attempts of being affectionate, but you wrapped your arms around him and held him tight, determined not to let him go. “I got you, Ricky.”

“Gosh, but I'm - I-I-I shouldn't. I'm all sweaty.”

“It's okay,” you cooed, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. “I kinda like it. Besides, everyone sweats. It's only natural, and if we didn't we'd die, right? So calm down my little manly man. I'm not grossed out.”

It took him a few seconds to let this sink in.“Is there anything y-you don't like?” he wondered; neither reciprocating nor initiating.

“I don't like mosquito bites, but what does that have to do with anything? I really like you. That's what matters.”

“Th-that's - thank you. I appreciate it.”

You pressed your nose right into his hair, breathing in the scent which was naturally his intermingling with that of the forest. You knew this made him nervous, but you adored the way he smelled, especially right now; as though he'd been birthed from the ashes of pine. “You're welcome. Have you been rolling around in pine needles?” you giggled, picking out a stray leaf. “Or have you been hugging trees again? If you aren't, then maybe I should encourage it.”

“No,” he answered matter of factly. “it's um - it's from the wood. Th-they produce chemicals called terpenes, which give them their special, distinctive scent.”

“Oh Rick, when are you going to understand when I'm flirting with you?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he mumbled sheepishly. “Gee, I-I-I don't - I'm sorry.”

Reluctantly you let go, deciding that you should let him be before you had a chance to get any other mischievous ideas. “Aw, don't be sorry. You still have plenty of time to understand me. Until then, how about I make us some breakfast. Banana pancakes sound good?”

Smiling warmly down at you, he nodded. “It s-sure does.”

_______________

After breakfast, Rick informed you that he needed to go somewhere, and you were ready to go along but he confessed. “I-I-I have to get some supplies to do a couple of repairs. I've been so busy lately that I didn't realize that there were still a-a few things t-t-to do around here before I can relax. I should be back this afternoon.”

“Rick, it sounds like you're leaving me here.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he admitted. “I am, though only because I want to return as soon as possible. I want t-to spend as much time with you as I can. I mean, I'm going t-t-to be making repairs after I return, but in other words…..”

“You're busy,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away so you could put away the dishes. “and you wanted to take care of your errands without distractions. Fine, it's whatever. I'll be here I guess.”

The mismatched dishes were an odd contrast in comparison to the many other decorations about the place, and you were relieved by this, but annoyed that you weren't tall enough to put away the mixing bowl in its respective place on the top shelf. Seeing this, chair legs scraped against the floor, creaking in complaint as Zeta-7 crossed the room; gently removing it from your hands and putting it away. If he wasn't so darn sweet, you might actually manage to stay upset at him. “Thanks.”

Studying you, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I'm s-s-so sorry princess. I promise I'll make it up to you.”

You knew he would for he always did and you followed him outside towards the car. Opening the driver's side door, he stood there, fiddling with the keychains, glancing at you, at the keys, then back at you. “It won't be long. Y-y-y-y-you know where I put the freeze ray, and where the switch for the security system is.”

“Yeah,” you answered, tugging lightly on the chain about your neck, revealing the lovely crystal you carried with you always. “and I still have the crystal necklace that I only have to squeeze to be transported to the safe room just in case.”

“Th-that's good. And the Meeseeks box is in the closet. I um - they'll help if you need them.”

“Got it. I guess I'll see you later then. Drive safely.”

You turned around to head back, having heard the car door close, thinking he was ready to go, but to your surprise, he spun you around and pulled you in for a kiss. Undemanding, he sought forgiveness on your lips, supporting you as you melted into him. When he pulled away a few seconds later, he softened. “Please don't be mad a-at me. I couldn't bear it if y-you were.”

“I'm not. Annoyed maybe, but not mad. I just wish you would've told me earlier. “ you admitted in your girlish voice. “It's nice to know these things. I had plans for us to go apple picking and thought we'd bake some apple pies together. I was really looking forward to it.”

Pressing a kiss on your temple, he sighed. “Gosh, th-that sounds perfect, but it's going to have to wait. I shouldn't neglect the repairs or else one of us c-could get hurt. I hope y-you understand.”

“I do. It's a good thing you're the responsible one. Someone has to be. Just, promise you'll be safe okay?”

“I-I will. Be careful on the front porch and inside the laundry room. There are a-a few old boards that have to be replaced.”

“Okay.”

Brushing a lock of hair away from your face, he nodded. “Bye, m-mi corazón.”

Leaning into his touch, you softened. “Return soon.”

“I will.”

You pulled away so that he would go, for he would never deliberately leave until he knew everything was alright. And when you couldn't see the car anymore, you stepped back into the house, avoiding the loose boards he had mentioned. Honestly, you didn't enjoy the idea of being left alone, especially in the middle of nowhere, but it did give you the time you needed to explore the place.

_____________

You glanced at the painting again, wishing it would talk back to you. What secrets did it hold? And why Rick, your Rick and not anyone else? Did they know there were others, or were they only acquainted with yours? Ugh, this was frustrating.

You sat back for a while, thinking of what you knew; Zeta-7 wasn't the type to pose for pictures let alone a painting, so this might've been done by memory. If it was done in the afternoon light, anytime after 4 would've been comfortable if it was done outside, but what if the lighting was symbolic as to timing and not so much literal? Oh, what did you know, except that you really hoped he wasn't holding a torch for her; if he was, it'd probably kill you.

However, since you were here, you decided to check out the other paintings. There were a few that you realized also weren't signed and done in a similar style. There was one of a Morpho butterfly, eating a ripe banana. Then there was one of a half-eaten picnic and a cake covered in bees. The one next to it was of a labcoat draped over a chair and a forgotten candy wrapper lying on the floor. And the last one on this wall was of a diseased blue rose bush.

How odd. The familiarity of these subjects and scenes filled you with a warm nostalgia of past adventures. Was it possible that their story was similar to yours? Of course, everyone had their story, and if your assumptions were correct, then all these unsigned pieces were by her as well as these memories that she portrayed; funny and uncanny that they should like Morphos, blue roses, picnics, and Rick just like you. The only difference is that you weren't an artist, but then while they were, they didn't think so either.

Maybe you could almost forgive this person because they had good taste in both men and painting subjects. Then again, maybe not.

____________

Unlike the movies, the basement was well furnished and pleasant. There was a couch, a bunch of boxes stacked in the closet, and a wall of books; as could be expected from a prolific reader. You tested the couch for comfort, finding that it was way better than the bed in your room. Getting up, you perused the shelves, happy to find all your favorites as well as a couple from your wishlist; lucky you.

Picking up a leather-bound copy of Persuasion, you laid back on the couch, fluffing up the old, but clean pillows. In your hands was a well-loved copy, possibly read more times than your own. The reasons this particular Jane Austen classic held much appeal was extensive, but the main ones were because it was a story waiting, of misunderstanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation. You always got lost in the old-fashioned customs and words and it never failed to move you. However, what moved you this time when you cracked opened the book were not elegant sayings or humorous witticisms but the photographs.

Used as bookmarks, there were several Polaroids of Rick; of him dancing in an ugly sweater; of him cooking; of him playing the ukulele; of him standing as his figure was filtered amongst spring blooms; of his hands full of sunflower seeds; and of a yard full of sunflowers. You stared at these photos, dumbfounded at the similarities between the subjects and your favorite things. This book and photos must've been from her too and Ricks age in these photos matched that of the painting. Damn it.

It couldn't be true, but even inside the cover, there was a small note from Zeta-7 explaining why he gifted this book; signed with love. No, none of it could be true. However, photographs didn't lie and it meant you weren't all that special. Not caring if you stained the beginning pages with your tears, your chest ached with regret and you couldn't breathe. All this time, when your wonderful Zeta-7 paid special attention to what you loved, claiming to love only you, never wanting to lose you had turned out to be a cruel game and a lie; you being beaten by the girl who loved him before; someone who was way better than you.

TBC

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #j-19-zeta-7 #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick j-19-zeta-7 #j19ζ7 #rick j19zeta7 #j19zeta7 #rnm fanfic #my writing #my works

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