Suuurrrprriiisseeee! 🥳 Kind of, not really 🤣 So, obviously, after watching season 2 of The Sandman, I reread this series and spotted a few kinks in my timeline/story elements. So, I decided to rewrite the whole thing in what's being lovingly called "the novel edition" by my friends 😅 Most major things won't change (the very end excluded), but I hope this adds some clarity as well as just some more content with our favorite soul-bound pair. The first thing you'll notice is shorter chapters (if you're also reading Nightshade, you've probably already noticed this). During my break from Tumblr I was working on some original projects and realized just how massive 30 to 40 page chapters are so I've spaced things out a bit more to make it a bit easier on the eyes and my fingers 🤣 Second thing you'll notice is a regularly scheduled post day 😅 I know going weeks between chapters sucks so I really wanted to do my best to get on top of posting every week. At the start of each month, I will be posting a "schedule" telling everyone what projects are gonna be posted and when so hopefully that helps! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this amended edition of TSaTGWD while I quietly work on the sequel 👀.
As always, TW's will contain spoilers. From this series, you can expect strong language, general violence, blood, gore, nudity, sex, a bit of body horror here and there, general themes of abuse and trauma, mentions of (but no in-depth descriptions of): attempted assault, experimentation, and suicide attempts. There will be a Trigger warning at the beginning of every chapter, and as always, I will do my due diligence to include everything I can think of (if I do miss something, please feel free to comment or message me)
I once dreamed of a maze. The finely trimmed hedges towered up into the clear blue skies. Neatly cobbled paths twisted and turned in every direction one could imagine, and probably some that no one could. Even to my still young mind, it all appeared orderly, too orderly. It was as if every single stone had been placed by the hands of a meticulous god. I'd not know until much later just how right I was in that regard.
In my dream, I would walk for hours, following a tall figure donned in hideous robes, who always seemed just out of reach. The gentle clanging of a chain echoed in the silent maze, and each time I heard it, the figure seemed to grow further away. I'd reach my hand out, a name just there, on the tip of my tongue, and then the path and the hedges were washed away in a sea of black, like ink staining the pages of a book, erasing the knowledge within its pages forever.
After that, I no longer dreamed of anything. The ink dried on the pages of my mind, forever casting a shadow over the words it so desperately tried to write.
A beach.
A gate.
A palace.
A meadow.
Years passed, and soon my curse of dreamless sleep became a normal part of my life. All recollection I clung to of the maze, and its paths faded too into the dark. Dreamlessness in the dreary world of waking minds was a nightmare all its own.
*
My father’s voice echoed between the floorboards, and the whole estate quaked with every vile word he spewed. Realistically, I knew things weren’t actually shaking, but to my childlike mind, it certainly felt that way. I’d taken refuge under my bed, looking up at the crudely painted hues of the night sky that were hidden beneath the bed frame, as though if I willed it enough, I'd be transported inside the soft blues and lilacs.
I’d pressed my hands tightly over the ears of the small doll, my only friend, fully believing that she too could hear as I did.
“Don’t worry, Priscilla,” I whispered to her, fighting against tears. “He’ll be done soon, and mother will come up and tuck us in just like she always does.”
Though the doll did not reply, the feel of her slightly knotted hair beneath my palms helped soothe the ache within my chest. Her silky dress matched the light hues, and the messy stars that I'd tried my hand at stitching into her gown made her look as though she'd fallen from the very sky I'd painted. Her face was also adorned with tiny stars and swirls of color, an attempt I'd made to cover up the cracks along the side of her face where her ear had been chipped off.
“You aren't like everyone else, dear Priscilla,” I'd said once I'd finished my makeover of her. The words rattled in my mind, not entirely my own but not those of a stranger. “So, it won’t do to have you look like everyone else! You should look like you.”
My father had been furious with me when he'd finally noticed what I'd done. He'd shouted and screamed and hit me until I couldn't cry anymore. “Do you know how expensive this doll was?! It was certainly worth more than you!”
I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and pulled Priscilla up, hugging her to my chest as tightly as I could. “He'll be done soon. He'll be done, and mother will come. Mother always comes.”
It'd be another hour before those words were true, but eventually my mother knocked upon my door in that gentle way. “Are you still awake, dear?”
“Yes,” I whispered, still half hidden below the frill of the covers spilling over the side of the bed.
She opened the door, soft eyes finding my hiding spot instantly. Her face had begun to swell, red marks slowly changing colors. Yet, despite the pain I knew she felt, my mother smiled. “Come out from under there.”
“Is Father gone?”
“Yes,” she said, sadness and fear causing her mousy voice to crack. “He's gone to the pub. Won’t be back till morning.”
I crawled out and hurried into her arms. “Why was he angry? Did I… Did I upset him again?”
“No,” mother said, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes. “No, I… I made a mistake.”
“That's an accident,” I said, mind desperately trying to wrap around the much larger, elusive concept of what caused my father’s ire. “We don't get punished for accidents because they aren't anybody’s fault.”
Mother smiled, kneeling to gently twist my hair into loose braids as she spoke, “That's right. Your father… He's just been under a lot of pressure lately, that's all.”
I simply nodded, forcing the hundreds of questions that rose to mind back down. “I’m sorry he was mean to you.”
“Come, dear,” mother whispered, gently turning me towards the bed. “It’s time to sleep.”
“I don’t like sleeping,” I mumbled, tired eyes lingering on the open pages of my book, or rather the black butterfly that sat upon its ivory pages. “It’s always too dark now.”
Mother sat beside me, tenderly tucking me and Priscilla into the folds of the blanket as that little butterfly slowly beat its wings. “Still no more dreams?”
“No. No more mazes.” With a thick swallow and a shuddering breath, tears sprang to my eyes as I turned to look at her. “Mother… Is the Sandman angry with me? Did I upset him like I upset Father?”
“Oh,” she cooed, scooting up to lean over me with a sad sort of smile. “No, dear. You haven’t upset anyone.”
“He’s forgotten me, then?”
“Maybe he’s just… borrowed those marvelous dreams of yours,” she suggested, tucking stray hairs away from my face.
My brows furrowed, nose scrunching up in confusion. “Why would he want my dreams?”
“Because they’re beautiful.”
“Well, he can get his own beautiful dreams.”
A real smile finally spread across my mother’s face along with a gentle laugh that brought ease to my soul, echoing around me, surrounding me in warmth. With a gentle touch to my nose, she said, “The Sandman never forgets a dreamer. You’ll find those dreams, just you wait.”
She kissed my head first, then did the same to Priscilla’s. “Goodnight, mother.”
“Goodnight, my dear Penelope.”
The moonlight cast my bedroom in a silver glow as I tossed and turned. I stared at that butterfly, quietly whispering to it, “Do you know The Sandman?”
It beat its wings again.
“Well, if you do… Would you tell him I’d like to have a word with him?”
The butterfly lifted to the air, flitting aimlessly about my room. Quiet as a mouse, I pulled myself from the covers and hurried to the window, gently opening it. The butterfly flew out into the night, vanishing into the dark. “Goodbye!”
As my eyes drifted shut, met once again by that all-consuming darkness, I desperately thought the dreams to myself.
A beach.
A gate.
A palace.
A meadow.
"The Sandman never forgets a dreamer.”
Well, the Sandman, on the unlikely chance he was real, was a forgetful ass.
Foaming at the fact that not once during this entire scene does dream’s eyes ever leave nuala’s face. His life, quite literally in the most immediate of dangers, and instead he makes it a priority to see to it that nualas gift- a wish from him be granted. Only leaving because she asks him to.
Yes I love our dear old "Hob rescue Dream from fishbowl, but Dream is weak after confinement so Hob needs to nurse him back to help, fluff, friends (strangers) to lovers, 200k words fics"
But have you considered the alternative?
Hob rescues Dream from the fishbowl, and the moment glass shatters, the moment the circle is destroyed, Dream releases all his power, all his anger at his capturers.
The ruby? The sand? The helm? That's just tools, just toys.
The fact that Dream was cut from Dreaming? That his power was weakened? But he is still Endless. The Endless.
He is the power. The Magic. The dreams.... The Nightmares in human form.
And he is furious.
Ready to act on his righteous anger. Ready to let go of his powers, ready to show his worst side, ready to do inhuman things, to everybody in the mansion.
And there is only one person safe from all that, one person standing in the middle of the storm, unharmed and never in any kind of danger.
Hob Gadling finally facing the true nature of his Stranger.
Summary: The worst part of Dream's imprisonment is knowing you're getting closer to death every day.
Pairing: Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: a bit of angst, if I do say.
Notes: "Despite his cold exterior, Dream is often passionate and infatuated with his lovers." This is all that played in my head while I wrote this, I hope you can see it come through <3 I also looked it up and apparently dreaming of bananas means you have a good sex life, so I threw in a few (-;
Masterlist
His palms lay on your back, pushing you further into his chest. Despite how long you’d been pressed into him, his skin still remained cool to the touch. His plush lips rest on your forehead, his even breath fanning across your nose.
Your nose brushed against his neck, and your cheek pushed into his shoulder. One arm around his back, the other resting on his chest. You’d been like this for hours, lying in bed and sharing the occasional kiss. Nights like these were rare but beautiful.
The peace was disturbed by the sound of pecking against the window. Jessamy.
Dream sighs, running one of his pale hands down your bare arm. It was scandalous, sleeping with a man while unmarried. You look down at the ring on your finger, silver with a black stone. A small smile found its way to your lips.
Soon enough, it won't be considered improper.
“I must go, duties call.” His voice sent shivers down your spine.
“Where to this time?” Morpheus may not be human but he travels a lot for work. There’s not a spot on this earth he hasn’t seen.
“Berlin.” He brings his hands up to your face, cradling it. “A rouge nightmare.”
“Maybe one day I’ll be able to join you on your adventures,” you hum.
The corners of his lips turn up, his eyes seem brighter. “I cannot wait.”
He runs his thumb across your lips, then leans in and places a soft kiss upon them.
“When will I see you next?” You ask, caressing his face with your hand.
He takes a moment to think about it. “I’ll be back on Tuesday.”
Tuesday, that’s only two sleeps away.
He moves his hands from you and runs his hands down your arms as he steps back. Your fingers intertwine with his.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” You smile shyly up at him, give his hands a squeeze and then let go.
He returns your smile and turns away, making it a few steps before you speak up.
“Be careful, I can’t have you dying on me.” You say a tad louder, making sure he can hear it as he walks away.
“I always am, my love.” He responds, looking back at you. “I’ll always come home to you.”
You smile to yourself as he leaves, closing the door behind him. The countdown to his return instantly starts and you begin planning what you can do. Perhaps a picnic in the park would be good, it is starting to get warm.
When Tuesday arrives, you have a basket prepared. You pack a range of cheeses, biscuits, sandwiches and even a few bananas, then wait at the door.
He never comes.
-----
By the time Dream escapes his captures, it’s been over 100 years. He cannot describe the pain in his heart. Captured, robbed, forced to watch Jessamy die and then trapped in a cage for decades.
The worst part? Knowing you are dead.
The love of his life, the person which kept him going every day and brought out the very best in him, is gone.
Dead.
He didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Part of him angry with his sister, infuriated even. The other part knows that it is not her fault. This is the fault of falling for a mortal.
He works hard and eventually gains back all his materials. Yet, the pain doesn’t fade. Every day, he thinks of you.
Did you wait for him?
He could ask his siblings but he’s not sure he wants to know. What would be worse, you wasting your life waiting for him, or you moving on and finding another man?
Dream never wants to admit to weakness but this, this pain? It’s soul destroying. At least when Nada was cast to hell, he had known where she was.
This is how he found himself in the park, feeding the birds. What was he to do now? He couldn’t move on, wouldn’t move on.
“What are you doing?” Death asked, sitting beside him on the small bench.
The two spoke for a while before leaving. It wasn’t until the very end of their interaction, back at the park, that you came up.
“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned your partner.”
He said your name softly, eyes beginning to water. “There’s nothing to say, they’re dead.”
Death furrowed her eyebrows but stayed silent, waiting to see what he said next.
“It is the pain of loving a mortal.”
Death stopped, causing her brother to also halt.
“What are you talking about?” She sounded almost surprised. “Did you not look them up once you entered the Dreaming?”
“I could not bear to.” He admitted. “The mere thought of them hurts.”
Death sighed, “you’re an idiot. You know that?”
He didn’t respond, just furrowed his eyebrow.
“Once you’d disappeared, I went to their house.” Her voice softened. “I told of your imprisonment, and we made a deal.”
Dream stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not a monster, you know.” She replied, shaking her head. “As if I’d let your partner die while you were unable to say goodbye. You were in enough pain, I couldn’t do that to you.”
Morpheus felt something in his heart. It was bright, warm. It was hope.
“You mean to tell me-“
“That they're are still alive? Yes.”
Dream instantly pulled out his pouch of sand, taking some of the sand out.
“Tell them I said hello.”
-----
You didn’t notice as a figure appeared behind you, only hearing the music as you washed the dishes. Your favourite song from the olden days played, putting you in a good mood. It wasn’t very often you could listen to this genre, as it always reminded you of your long-lost love, Dream.
He’d been gone for at least a century now; you still missed him every day. Yet, there was hope in your heart. Death, his older sister, had agreed to take your mortality. She had promised that Morpheus would one day escape and come find you.
When? You did not know. But knowing it would, was enough for you.
As one song ended, another began. You couldn’t help but laugh when you recognised it.
“Mr. Sandman bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen.” You poorly sang along, washing the plate.
“I only have myself, unfortunately.”
Every muscle in your body froze as recognition ran through you. The plate dropped back into the soapy water, soaking your shirt.
Slowly, you turned around to face him. He looked as beautiful as the day you lost him, cheek bones high-strung and hair as black as midnight.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, tears instantly running down your face.
“I-“ you couldn’t speak, opting to instead stare up at him.
Has he gotten taller? His shoulders look strong in his plain black shirt, jacket discarded on the ground.
A moment passed, then you ran into his arms. He wrapped one hand around you back, using the other one to press your face against his chest. You hung onto him, hands fisting his shirt. It felt like he’d disappear if you let go.
He rested he cheek against your head, tears trailing down into your hair.
The two of you stood like that for a while, grappling with your own disbelief.
Dream pulled away first, unbothered by the tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for missing our date.”
You laughed, grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulling him back into the hug.
“It’s okay.” You whispered, voice hearse. “You have forever to make up for it.”
