#thedreaming

[margueritesauvage]

Reposting this cover I did for the audiobook of #TheDreaming - with our beloved character Death, that was such a nice project I did as WFH through #DCComics. I know everything linked to Gaiman's world is bitter sweet nowadays, such a sad and dreadful situation, I really hope the victims get reparations.

[liz19forever]

The Karma of a Writer: Prequel 🖤✨

⚠️ Trash post / intrusive thoughts from a writer in crisis. Sorry for being annoying. 😭

A few days ago, I came up with another idea. Yes. Another one. 💀

Because apparently my brain has decided that living in peace will simply never be an option for me. 😅😇

I’m one of those people who constantly has millions of stories running through their head at the same time. Some stay stronger than others. Some dissolve somewhere between dreams, probably in the hands of you-know-who… and when I wake up, they’re just gone. 🌙✨

I will not be making further comments on the matter because my formal complaint has already been filed in the Dreaming. I am currently awaiting an administrative response. 📝🖤

Anyway.

The point is that I’ve been writing a new idea for days while simultaneously trying to finish all the previous ones, which is, yes, probably some kind of narrative karma. 😭

But I can’t stop thinking about posting it. Because sharing it —even if nobody reads it— is my way of getting it out of my system before it consumes me alive.

So I’m probably going to share what is, in my opinion, one of the most brilliantly devastating things I’ve ever written. Well… maybe there have been others throughout all my years as an emotionally unstable pseudo-writer, but the problem is that now I cannot stop imagining Tom saying certain lines with that whispered British cadence that honestly leaves me in psychological shock. 🫠🖤

And so you can fully understand the level of emotional damage I’m currently dealing with, I present evidence:

POV Tom:

"I feel the tremor in your voice vibrating against the palm of my hand, which is still cradling your jaw. The warm trail of your tears dampens my fingers. Seeing you cry like this, surrendered in my arms, torn between the love you have for me and the absolute need to save yourself, breaks something inside me in a way there’s no cure for.

I close my eyes for a second, swallowing down the knot of agony tightening my throat, and rest my forehead against yours. Our breaths mingle together. The lavender scent lingering on your hands, the warmth of your skin… all of it feels like a refuge I’m about to be exiled from forever.

"—I promise you,” I whisper, and the words tear through my chest, but I say them with absolute conviction, looking straight into your eyes so you won’t have the slightest doubt. “I swear on our children’s lives, Y/N. Tomorrow morning I’ll close these suitcases and walk out that door. I’m not going to use this to confuse you. I’m not going to use this to beg you or chain you to a marriage that left you gasping for air. Tomorrow, I give you your life back.”

I let go of your wrist gently, lowering my hand to wrap around your waist and pull you the last millimeter closer. I can feel your frantic heartbeat slamming against my chest. With the thumb of the hand still holding your face, I slowly wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"—But tonight…” my voice breaks, turning into a rough murmur just inches from your mouth. “Tonight let me be the man who wrote those letters. Let me say goodbye to my wife. Let me give you the season finale our story deserves.”

I don’t wait any longer, because the surrender in your eyes and the way your hands don’t push me away are the only answer I need. I close the distance and press my lips against yours.

There’s no rush. No brutal desperation, only painful and absolute reverence. It’s a slow, deep kiss, heavy with a grief so immense it tastes like salt to both of us. My lips move against yours with a devotion that arrives twenty years too late, memorizing the texture, the warmth, the exact way we always fit together in the dark, even when everything else in the daylight was broken. My hands trace the line of your back, pulling you closer, feeling every shiver running through your body. I kiss you as I slowly guide you backward, forcing us into blind, clumsy steps across the room until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, right beside the half-packed suitcase. I pull away from your lips only for a second to kiss your damp cheek, your jaw, and that spot on your neck where your pulse beats wildly.

"I love you,” I whisper shakily against your skin, letting my own walls finally collapse and allowing the tears I held back all weekend to finally fall. “I love you, I love you…”

It isn’t just to ask for your forgiveness. It’s so you’ll carry it tattooed into your memory. So that tomorrow, when you watch my car disappear down the driveway, you’ll know I loved you with everything I was, and that letting you go is the greatest and most painful act of love I have ever done in my entire fucking life.”

AND YES. THAT IS EXACTLY WHY I AM NOT PSYCHOLOGICALLY OKAY. 💀🖤

So anyway, this is the end of this trash post. Although another one is coming. A longer one. 😭

Because once again I have suffered the ultimate curse of being fandom-dependent and I am currently going through an entirely fictional yet completely real emotional grieving process in my head… which basically means getting way too attached to fictional characters and then having the universe —also known as the writer, showrunner, screenwriter, or whatever evil entity is responsible for writing that character’s life— decide to psychologically destroy you for sport. 🫠

Yes!!!! 😶‍🌫️ 😶 They killed the main character.😱 And I was just sitting there like: WTF. 😭💔

So if you see a flood of videos, edits, scenes, texts, or creative delusions from me over the next few days… that’s simply my way of surviving the psychological damage inflicted on me by someone else’s story. 🎬🖤

My creative brain is currently operating at full power trying to process the grief my fangirl heart is carrying. ✨❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹💔

End of statement. 🖤

P.S.: If you want the emotional damage to hurt even more while reading this, I’m leaving below the song I’d personally listen to while writing it. 🎧😭

Between Us

Goddess No Holy · Between Us · Song · 2026

[spookywhitt]

All put together? Now we just need to make the cape!

[wayshak]

Convention sketch of Dream wearing his helmet, from The Sandman comics. #sandman #dreamshelm #dream #thedreaming https://www.instagram.com/p/CpWAWDuPqdN/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[larapeachsstuff]

My Love

MORPHEUS X READER

What if you were Sandman's lover and the two of you were separated during the 100 years of his imprisonemnt?

What if just for once you were able to visit him in your dreams?

(Reader with no gender specified :) )

You haven't have seen your lover Morpheus for 57 years by now and you were losing hope in his return.

The realm was slowly decading and the only thing that was keeping you from the complete distruction was the love for Dream. You knew deep in your soul that he would have returned, but that hope was fading away little by little every day. You hated yourself because you knew that Dream would have never abandoned you, Lucienne and his entire realm to go living with the humans, those filthy creatures from the waking world.

Those thoughts kept you awake every night and sometimes, between the tears, you couldn't even sleep all night and it was becoming more and more usual.

That night was no different from the others.

Or, at least, you believed so.

It was around 3 am and you hadn't been able to sleep from hours at this point, thinking about the good old days when Dream used to live with you in his high castle in the Dreaming. How warm were his arms while they were cuddling you during the night and the soft : " I love you y/n, always remember that" before going to sleep. But that night, between the tears and a warm heart for love, you could fall asleep and had a dream. 

But it was not just a simple dream, as you realised. 

You found yourself in a large room, full with columns and made out of stone, which was similar to a crypt. The ceiling was very low and it smelled like a room with closed windows after few people have slept in there... it smelled like humans, close space, smoke and strong feelings

of revenge 

of anger 

of loneliness

but also of hope and 

love 

You would have recognised that smell everywhere.

You turned your head to track the smell and noticed a giant glass ball in the middle of the room, which was sorrounded by a small river and a penthagon as you recognised. A ritual? You didn’t undertsand why you were dreaming that, what were the reasons, so you overstepped the little river and headed to the ball. It was giant and made out of strong glass, unbreakable and it was clearly made out of something with a powerful magical power, which just Lucifer or God themselves would have been able to escape from. 

You were so concentrated and fascinated about the glass, that you didn’t realised that something was in there and was awekening, disturbed by your presence.

“My love? Is that you?”

Your heart stopped beating for a second, as you slowly raised your head to meet two deep eyes, which could easily move your soul and heart.

Morpheus, those eyes were of Dream. 

You started crying uncontrollably as you saw his face, the pain, the distance, the loneliness and the love which hadn’t had a way to manifest for all those years.

“Love,o my god, I have so missed you.. ehi ehi... don’t start crying.. is okay now..I can see you...o my god...” Dream was trying to comfort you while you where crying whitout a way to stop. You were so confused and scared. 

Why was Dream there? How? Was there a way to escape from this prison? For how much long? His eyes were full of sadness but at the same time of joy and love for seeing you. He was naked and you noticed his thin but strong body, his soft silky skin and dark black hair, whose touch you missed so much during your lonely night. 

“How can I help you, my Lord? You have to escape. Now. I will save you and we will return to the Dreaming... please love.. please” you said as you were analysing the glass in order to find a way our for Dream. You were shaking and crying and praying to save him and you didn’t noticed how Morpheus was trying to catch your attention, calling you and waving his hands. 

Just when he yelled at you to stop, you looked at him, confused and with a guilty feeling, catching his dark eyes, as he said to you: 

“Love, stop please. You are just hurting yourself and me, please stop.”

“But you have to escape my Lord, you cannot stay here, not a second anymore, you have to come with me to the Dreaming, you have to return, the realm needs you. Please love, please”

“I cannot escape at the moment, I’m sorry, I would without esitation if I could, i have missed you so much”

“I will find a way, I am here, I can get you out, We just need to find a lever or something like that, a bottom, maybe it is in the upper house, if there is one.. maybe there is a control room or something, I...I... just... must...”

“LOVE STOP!” Dream stopped you from ranting, yelling at you for a second time. “Sweetheart, stop, you will just heart yourself. You are not really here, this is not a dream, it is more like a manifestation, you cannot save nor help me. Stop hurting yourself, please. My soul is suffering seeing you like that. Please, stop.” 

A manifestation? WHAT? You couldn’t belive him. It was not possible, you were not capable of such things. If it was a manifestation, you were just some kind of imagine there, without any power, without any ability, so you tried to touch the water of the near small river, but it remained untouched, without a single change. Your heart cracked. You could not belived that. You turn to Dream and he gave you a small and sad smile

“Is okay Love, the important thing is that you are here with me. Just your sight is enough to heal my soul from this long time of loneliness and distance from your heart. Please, come here, I don’t thing we have much time left. Manifestations are a tricky deceit of the Universe”. 

You slowly moved your body next to the glass to place your hand on his, despite being separated from the glass. 

“How is that possible? I am not capable of such thing, my Lord. If this is not a dream, I don’t know how I did that...”

“Sometimes the Universe gives us, Endless included, little gifts to help us during our lives to not lose hope in it.”

“I have missed you so much my Lord. I feel lonely and empty now that you are gone. The realm is decading and Lucienne is doing all the work in order to keep everyone in peace, although dreams are escaping every day and it is becoming more and more sad living there.” 

“I am sorry my Love for the pain that I have caused to all of you. Right now I cannot escape, but the time will come in which I will be free and I will take revenge for all they have done to me and to you.”

“Yes, my Lord, I believe you, but when? When will it...” 

You stopped suddenly. Something was wrong. You couldn’t feel the glass anymore and the room around you was fading. 

“NO, NO IT IS TOO SOON , PLEASE” you shout. 

“LOVE LOVE, LOOK AT ME, LISTEN TO ME” Dream yelled. You turn your eyes to him, while a strong wind started to blow, moving the elements in the room; the columns started to fade away, carried by the wind, as a black hole started to create at your back.

 “ I LOVE YOU. REMEMBER THAT. I WILL NEVER ABANDONE YOU OR ANYONE ELSE, BUT ESPECIALLY YOU. YOU ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, I CANNOT EXIST WITHOUT YOU AND I WILL RETURN. PLEASE “ Dream was shouting and you could see the tears forming in his eyes as you were slowly fading away. 

You tried to resist but the Universe gives just a little time to rebuilt hope and love and your time has run out. 

Before dissapering, the last thing you saw were his eyes and his lips saying : 

I love you Darling, remember that. 

You woke up in your bed, sweating, crying and shouting, as Lucienne arrived and hugged you, asking what happened and if everything was okay, althought it clearly wasn’t. You cried for hours and Lucienne stayed with you for the enitire night, comforting you, relived by the thought that her Master was still alive and save, if you could say that. 

Lucienne started the next morning, without any sleep, to track the place in which Dream was imprisoned, sending crows and creatures to find him, the ones that were still in the Dreaming. You hope had fully returned and during the lonely night the memory of his eyes and his words was the one thing that made you fell asleep, hoping for another manifestation and encounter with your Lord. 

But it never happened again. The Universe is kind, but not for long time. 

Althought, after 100 years, one morning, during your daily researches in the library to find a way to help Dream, after yet another troubled night, you heard the most soft and loving voice, which you haden’t heard in such a long time...

“Searching for me, my Love?”  

[everythingremembered]

Karratha Dreaming

Across all of Australia, Aboriginal belief systems encompassed a creative period known in 'white' society as 'the Dreaming'. The Dreaming is when the ancestor beings interacted with the land, created all living things, and formed natural features. Sacred sites are tied into the creation myths, songs, personal histories, and events of the Aboriginal peoples. They connect individuals with the Dreaming...and map totemic geography across the landscape, anchoring relationships of both a spiritual and familial nature to the land.

- Words from the signage on Yaburra heritage trail

[jeniidrawsshit]

Skipped the prompt to draw Lord Daniel for #inktober day 2. I finished reading The Dreaming last night and loved every bit of it . . . . . . . #inktober2022 #thesandman #thedreaming #danielhall #dreamoftheendless (at Rogers Park, Chicago) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjQ8WQyvMqq/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[pinkymattel]

Work sucks and Kate Bush is a genius.

That’s it.