This is my second blog fully dedicated to The Sandman/Dreamling and Dead Boy Detectives/Payneland as my main blog was forced into explicit mode (sad...š).
This is where I post my own art as well as my AU ideas, fics and ficlets, post pictures of the actors and actresses of The Sandman and DBDA, and, honestly, just to babble about the Gaiman Universe.
š„Pleaseš„ make sure to check out my Master Post for not only the tags I use for my own things but also to check out the Emoji's I will use in my post as a visual warning as I do post some NSFW and Mature art and fics as well as a a few works that may trigger people.
Not only are my own works here but I also share the work of other creative minds here as well that I enjoy.
I am not against other ships in either fandom, and I may now and then reblog Cat King and Edwin posts or maybe Corintheus posts, but it will mainly be Dreamling for The Sandman and Payneland for DBDA as those are the ships I personally prefer more.
Thank you for stopping by!
Hope you enjoy your visit! š
I ventured away from this account because I was irritated my main account was basically flagged for no reason and I couldnāt do anything.
Still irritated as Iāve petitioned many time to have it fixed and itās not.
So.
Iām gonna create a whole new account.
Iām not gonna delete this one, but I will no longer be posting to this one.
I will be linking and reblogging from this blog to the new one.
Iāll share the new blog when itās done and made.
I thought about just moving all my art, but I forgot how much work I had gone into each post and I donāt have the time or energy to transfer all that over. Call me lazy.
I decided to make fanart of @teddy-tj-dore-jace PunkxHistory!Dreamling (go check out their other account, their art is amazing) and since I am on a Halloween themed onesise streak, i decided to put them in their own onesies :) Without further, here are the lovely cuties!
Dream is wearing a witchy cat and spider red onesie (hard to tell if he's mad or neutral about it) while his darling husband Hob is wearing a candy onesie in yellow :3
I hope you all enjoy and have a great day *poofs in a swarm of bats*
Iām just gonna throw this weird thing I noticed the other day out into the world because other people should see it too.
Dream is the only one whose name does not begin with āDeā.
I donāt know if there is really a reason for that.
Maybe itās just an actual coincidence that all the other Endless siblings names start with āDeā and it wasnāt an actual thought out thingā¦but to be honest you never know with Neil and his universes (which I love).
I donāt know what else he would have been named if not Dream. Is there another word for his being that begins with D but the second letter is an E?
maybe he could be "Delusion"? not exactly the same as a dream but basically something that people make up in their own heads. would even be interesting to see him switch to Dream to give humans who "suffer" from his gift a more positive outlook.
I really like the idea of him moving from Delusion to Dream as it's a beautiful reflection of how fantasy and escapism has evolved.
I imagine in the youthful period of existence, the triad of Time, Destiny and Death would rule supreme. Life was hard. You were born, you lived a life of survival and you died. A dream of something beyond the inescapable circumstances of your day to day would have been viewed as delusional. Dream would have been a figure of pure fantasy.
However as life evolved and society advanced. Arts, literature and philosophy came into being, fantasy would have become not just escapism, but also inspiration. Reality and Fantasy/ Destiny and Dream would begin to counterbalance each other. Things of imagination had the potential to be become reality if one had the aspiration to see it through.
Indeed I wouldn't be surprised if the changing of Delusion to Dream occurred simulatiously with the birth of Desire and Despair.
Iām just gonna throw this weird thing I noticed the other day out into the world because other people should see it too.
Dream is the only one whose name does not begin with āDeā.
I donāt know if there is really a reason for that.
Maybe itās just an actual coincidence that all the other Endless siblings names start with āDeā and it wasnāt an actual thought out thingā¦but to be honest you never know with Neil and his universes (which I love).
I donāt know what else he would have been named if not Dream. Is there another word for his being that begins with D but the second letter is an E?
maybe he could be "Delusion"? not exactly the same as a dream but basically something that people make up in their own heads. would even be interesting to see him switch to Dream to give humans who "suffer" from his gift a more positive outlook.
I really like the idea of him moving from Delusion to Dream as it's a beautiful reflection of how fantasy and escapism has evolved.
I imagine in the youthful period of existence, the triad of Time, Destiny and Death would rule supreme. Life was hard. You were born, you lived a life of survival and you died. A dream of something beyond the inescapable circumstances of your day to day would have been viewed as delusional. Dream would have been a figure of pure fantasy.
However as life evolved and society advanced. Arts, literature and philosophy came into being, fantasy would have become not just escapism, but also inspiration. Reality and Fantasy/ Destiny and Dream would begin to counterbalance each other. Things of imagination had the potential to be become reality if one had the aspiration to see it through.
Indeed I wouldn't be surprised if the changing of Delusion to Dream occurred simulatiously with the birth of Desire and Despair.
Hob (banging a drum loudly as he marches up and down): I LOVE DREAM OF THE ENDLESS! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!
...
Dream: It would be better for everyone if I had never existed.
Hob (squirting Dream with a water pistol): Say silly things, get squirted. You are wonderful and the world is better for you being in it, you dramatic ā but well loved ā wet cat of an anthropomorphic personification.
...
Dream: I hate myself.
Hob: Thatās itā¦
-drags Dream to stand in front of a mirror-
Hob: Look your reflection in the eye and say, āI am loved, I deserve to be loved and I am working on my self-esteem issues,ā three times in a row.
Dream: Iām not go tā¦
Hob: Weāre not leaving until you do. I can and will wait as long it takes. Iām immortal and very stubborn. You are not winning this one.
-two days later, after Dream has finally given in-
Hob: Good. Now you need to do that every single day until you start believing it.
Yeah okay soft dom Hob it is.
---
"Come on, pet," Hob murmurs, stroking his fingers through Dream's hair. Dream listens, more than watches, as Hob circles him where he kneels in the middle of Hob's living room floor, an unnecessary cushion under his knees.
Were he human, his body would have long failed him.
Were Hob not immortal, not ancient for one of his kind, he thinks, his patience would have long failed him.
"You know what you've got to say," Hob nudges.
It is shockingly easy to kneel for Hob Gadling, who treats him as something good and precious, a being of thoughts and feelings and needs who deserves to see them fulfilled.
It is less easy to view himself as Hob views him, which is what Hob requires of him now.
"I..." Dream begins, for perhaps the hundredth time. It is one thing to hear the words. He hears them, constantly, from Hob. He believes Hob means them, that to Hob, they are true.
It is another thing entirely to speak them himself, being unsure he believes the same. Or being quite sure he does not.
Hob pauses in his pacing a moment, petting Dream's hair gently. Encouragement. Space to speak.
Dream shakes his head. Tears well up in his eyes at his inability to simply give Hob what he has asked for. The only thing he has ever asked for. He is the most undemanding of lovers, and the kindest, the most generous in his own gifts.
He has asked for this one, single thing, and Dream still struggles to give it. He has never succeeded. He has always called a stop to it, eventually, when he is forced to conclude that he has once more failed.
Hob bends, presses a kiss to his forehead, and strokes his hair again.
"You'll get there," he says. "I'm going to make a cup of tea while you gather your thoughts. Not ten paces away. You'll be able to hear me the whole time."
He brushes a tear from Dream's lashes without drawing undue attention to it, and walks off.
Dream listens for the click of the kettle, the soft, high note of the spoon being dropped into the mug, piled high with Hob's second-favourite supermarket brand of raw sugar. The gentle crinkle of the teabag joining it. The water, beginning to bubble.
In a moment, Hob will pull the coffee table up in front of Dream, and he will lean forward with his tea clasped in both hands, the familiar scent of it washing over Dream's palate. He will offer Dream a mouthful, which he is always free to refuse or accept, and wait again. And once he has finished his tea, he will return to petting and pacing.
He will love, relentlessly, until Dream can take no more of this and must remove himself, and then he will gather Dream up in his arms and soothe him, run his hands over his body, press kisses to his flesh and hold him, and whisper love and devotion and reassurance into his ear, and promise that they'll try again. When he's ready.
He has done this a half-dozen times before, and will do it, Dream knows, knows, hundreds, thousands more. He would repeat this ritual on a weekly basis for eternity and not once falter.
"I..." Dream repeats as he hears Hob pouring water into his mug. "Am loved."
The kettle drops with a thump, unheeded, and Hob paces his way back. He aims at unhurried, but he is not perfect. He is excited. Dream has done something to please him, the one thing he has asked for, and he is excited by it, eager to return to his side.
"And?" he adds, breathless.
Dream turns his face up to Hob, taking in the wonder in his eyes, and feels something break inside him. The tears spring up anew, stinging his too-human form as they swell along his waterline, threatening to fall.
"I am loved," Dream repeats, taking a breath to get his bearings. "I am loved."
It becomes easier, each time he repeats it. It can be seen so clearly on Hob's face that he wonders now why it had been difficult at all.
"I am loved," he hiccups as Hob reaches down to touch him, stroke fingers through his hair, brush away tears. He is so good. It is the second part of the sentence he struggles with.
But it was most difficult to say the first part the first time. If he can say it once, perhaps it will become easier as well.
"I am loved and I deserve it," he says in a rush, sobbing, watching Hob's whole being radiate joy and warmth and pleasure. "I deserve it," he repeats, with another sob, tears flowing freely down his face. "I deserve it. I am loved, and I deserve it."
Hob drops to the floor before him, uncushioned, heedless of the discomfort of such an action, and surges forward to kiss him.
"You are loved, and you deserve it. You're so good. You've been so good for me, my darling," he murmurs, a bare inch from Dream's lips. "You're perfect. I'm so bloody proud of you."
Dream sobs again, and collapses into Hob's waiting arms. They fall, the two of them, gracelessly to the floor, saved only by what remains of Hob's self-preservation instincts as Dream tries to crawl into his rib cage, tears still escaping him, unnecessary breaths coming in harsh sobs as something inside him breaks. It is agony, but it is a worthwhile agony, and Hob holds him through it.
"So good," Hob murmurs, peppering kisses over his cheeks, his nose, the corners of his lips, kissing away tears, nuzzling at his skin. "Perfect. So proud of you," he repeats, over and over, as Dream curls his fingers into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, coming back to himself like the flow of sand through an hourglassāslow, but inevitable.
The ground swoops out from under him as Hob picks him up, the familiar journey to the bedroom one of triumph, today, instead of shame and disappointment. Hob's joy takes root in Dream's belly, filling it up, making him feel as perfect and beautiful and wonderful as Hob tells him he is.
"I am loved," he murmurs one last time against Hob's shoulder. "And I deserve it."
Omega!Dream is scared of ruts. When he was young he got very shitty/ sexist sex education and was always told that alphas in rut are uncontrollable and brutal- mindless animals who just want to fuck the nearest warm hole whether you like it or not, and would definitely break a pretty young omega like Dream. Dream grows up thinking thereās nothing more dangerous than an alpha in rut.
Now years later, heās 18, finally gotten away from his family and is living his own life. He even has an older alpha boyfriend who takes such good care of him. Hob is so kind and good to him, and the sex has been great, as far as Dream is concerned everything is perfect.
Then Hob mentions off-handedly that his rut is coming up and Dream nearly faints. He had totally forgotten about that, and all his old fears come rushing back. Hob is a lot bigger and stronger than him, he could probably break Dream in half!! Hob is usually so careful with him but Dream is positive all of that will go out the window once his rut hits.
Butā¦ Hob is his partner. He canāt leave him alone for it, and itās not like itād be Hobās fault if he hurt him. As his omega itās his duty to take care of his alpha during his rut, right? Even if his legs are shaking all the way to the bedroom. (Hob tried to talk to him about why he was so nervous, but Dream was tight lipped, and so Hob assumed it was just some residual anxiety about sharing a rut with someone for the first time. He knows itās a big deal to some people.)
So theyāre in bed, cuddled up together, Hobās temperature slowly rising and Dream trying not to tremble with fear. Then Hob gets hardā¦ and starts begging.
Dream is stunned silent as Hob asks- begs, pleads- for Dream to touch him, for Hob to taste his slick, to knot Dream and make him feel good. He starts humping at Dream and nuzzling his scent glands, but doesnāt go any farther since Dream hasnāt answered. He whines, burying his nose in Dreamās neck as he starts jerking himself off. Heās a little teary eyed, and obviously desperate, but he never gets mad or pushy with Dream. Just begs in between babbling about how good Dream smells and how perfect he is.
So Dream hesitantly reaches out, starts touching Hob and when he hears his boyfriend moan he finds his confidence growing quickly. Itās not actually that different than when they normally have sex, other than Hob being more flushed and desperate. As the night continues, Dream actually finds himself feeling strangelyā¦ powerful. Hob is a whining drooling mess, fully losing himself to pleasure and hormones, and yet Dream still has him wrapped around his finger. If Dream says āstopā Hob absolutely freezes. If Dream says ācomeā Hob slurs out a thank you. Heās so good for Dream the whole time, and Dream is surprisingly able to lose himself in his own pleasure, too.
Days later, when theyāre both fucked out and Hobās head has cleared, theyāll take a bath together and Dream will shyly ask about how ruts work- after all, maybe this was a fluke, or itās just a Hob thing? (Itās not, and Hob feels so so bad that Dream had been scared, but they reassure each other and talk through it. And Dream is already excited for Hobās next rut.)
-š¦
I love love love submissive and gentle alphas and this is so cute!!!!
I love the idea of Dream getting more confident as he experiences more of Hobās ruts. With encouragement and practice he's really able to help Hob through them by taking on a more dominant role, which honestly feels so good! The best part is that Hob obviously loves it - he totally melts when Dream praises him, gives him orders, rewards his good behaviour and even takes care of him by keeping him clean and hydrated. Hob is feeling so fulfilled, he even tells Dream that he's never had a better rutting experience in his whole life. It's great for Dreamās self esteem, and it brings them closer together.
Dream even learns that Hob actually gets a big craving to be fucked during his ruts (particularly when he's oversensitive from knotting so many times). Dream is shocked but only too pleased to buy a strap-on so he can give his alpha exactly what he needs. Hob is so good, he deserves the nicest things. And while it's a little sad that Dreamās sex education was SO bad, he's very very pleased that it was all bullshit and that he'll never have to fear his sweet alpha's rut ever again <3
maybe crystal keeps her promise after niko dies. she texts niko everyday, updates about her life, that time that charles somehow managed to trip and absolutely eat it despite the fact that he can phase through walls, the fact that edwin watches scooby doo when they're not working on a case, and that she's trying to right every wrong she made in the past and she knows that niko would be proud of her.
niko can see all of the messages, but the shitty reception in her igloo won't let her send any hearts back, and it makes her so mad.
The first time she texts Niko after...after, it's because Crystal walked by a small Japanese bookshop, and one of the books on display had been the next volume to a series Niko had been reading. The sight of the book is like a knife to Crystal's heart, and yet she still takes out her phone and snaps a photo of it anyways.
Crystal spends the next three hours at home contemplating whether she should send it. It's stupid. Niko won't see it, Niko's dead, there's no cell service in the afterlife, Niko's gone gone gone forever. And it was all Crystal's fault.
She hits send and throws her phone across the room, cracking the screen.
An hour later, she adds a second message to the first:
miss u
After that first message Crystal realizes she can't stop texting Niko. She's heard about stuff like this before, how people would send text messages and voicemails to dead love ones to cope with the overwhelming loss. Eventually though, they'd get a very confused and very much living person on the other line, a stranger with a new number, and just like that, the last living trace of the dearly departed has been overwritten and erased.
Crystal dreads the day someone answers her back and tells her she has a wrong number.
But in the meantime, she tells Niko about her days, the cases she solves with Charles and Edwin, the friends she makes along the way, the mistakes she's trying so hard to go back and fix. She tells Niko about how one time she caught Edwin watching Scooby-Doo in the window of an electronics store, and how now all three of them take one night out of the week to sit and marathon episodes until Crystal is too tired to keep her eyes open.
One time, Charles trips and falls face first into a pile of ectoplasm on the floor, and Crystal laughs so hard she feels like her sides are splitting open. She can't take a photograph to show Niko, ghosts don't show up on camera after all, but she tries her best to draw a recreation of the event and sends a photo of that instead.
Crystal's still not sure what's going on with her and Charles, or even what's going on with Charles and Edwin, and she tells Niko she wishes she were here to give her opinion on the matter. Things are weird aren't they? Or maybe they're not, and it's all in Crystal's head. Either way, if Niko were here, Crystal would probably feel a little less like a third wheel.
Before she realizes it, Crystal has sent over a hundred unread message to Niko's phone in the span of two months. There's photos of lunches, new manga volumes, and even some flowers scattered in between the paragraphs long updates about her days. No one has answered Crystal back yet. It's a blessing and a curse.
Charles and Edwin don't know what she's doing, but Crystal suspects they know something is up, with how attached Crystal has been to her phone lately. It's a bit morbid really. All the living people in the world, and the only people Crystal talks to are all dead.
One day, she'll stop texting Niko. One day, her phone number will be released, and someone else will answer her texts and gently tell her she has the wrong number, and then Crystal will be forced to accept the fact that Niko's not coming back.
Today is not that day.
-------------------
In an different plane of existence, Niko Sasaki holds her phone up to the ceiling of her tiny igloo, and curses when she hears the familiar warning tone from her phone indicating that she has no service.
It's been like this ever since she arrived here with Litty and Kingham. Her phone works just enough to received missed calls and text messages, but not enough to send anything back.
I miss you too! Message not delivered.
omg I can't believe you drew that! ur amazing! Message not delivered.
I promise I'm okay! Don't cry, I'll be back soon! Message not delivered.
[photo attached] Look, the sprites are here too! Message not delivered.
Her phone is low on battery, down to the last 15%, but Niko can't bring herself to turn it off, not when she doesn't know if it'll turn back on again, and she doesn't want to miss a single update from Crystal.
Litty and Kingham come back from yet another scouting mission, complaining that there's nothing but ice and snow for miles. Tomorrow, they'll go out again, and Niko will wait patiently, hoping and praying that they find a way off this icy tundra. She's tired of eating only fish and rabbit for dinner.
Niko texts Crystal one more time, already knowing that the message won't go through, but wanting to tell Crystal she's thinking of her anyways. She turns off the screen and settles in for the night.
I'll be back soon, I promise, the text reads.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Message delivered.
Obsessive Agony 2.0 @obsessiveagony2point0 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
