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#jessamy
lukotacon · 2 years
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The Sandman + Onion Headlines [P.3]
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This might sound stupid but I noticed on my second watch that Jessamy was very much intentionally saving Alex's life here by distracting Magus. She knew Magus wanted her dead. She had no reason to be there at that moment and draw his attention, but this kindly bird did it anyway to save the boy.
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And Alex repaid her by... brutally murdering her in front of Dream. Guy deserved something worse than ✨Eternal Sleep✨.
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sigurism · 1 year
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Or it was, until I left my kingdom to pursue a rogue nightmare.
Dream of the Endless & Jessamy The Sandman -1.01 -Sleep of the Just
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lemoneyshipz · 1 year
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i kinda rushed this but it still took days bc of art block
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thewollfgang · 2 years
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Sandman Inktober Day 4: Raven
"Take care of him for me."
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nat-ong · 2 years
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just a boy with his birb 🥺
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imsogayyippee · 2 months
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bored...... anyone wanna send me mh ship drawing ideas :3 ??
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krae-hb · 2 years
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*The Sandman spoilers*
I’ve seen a lot of posts mourning the death of Gregory. I agree I was definitely sad when he gave up his life and got like absorbed
But like you know who else’s death I was upset by ? Jessamy
I’m a sucker for little animal familiar friends and I was like aww look he has a loyal bird friend I love her
And then he was in that glass ball for years and he saw her and looked kinda happy for like the first time and then she EXPLODED
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How long was Jessamy his raven? They must have been close
I like Matthew the raven too. He’s funny but I would be upset if I watch my friend die after being in isolation for years
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designtheendless · 1 year
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Human! Jessamy
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space-morningstar · 2 years
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Can we appreciate for a moment how happy Morpheus looked when Jessamy came to help him?
He was truly happy, there was hope in his eyes… her friend was coming to help him after so much, he was happy not only for the help but also for the opportunity to see her again.
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frihetkanske · 2 years
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Jessamy Reincarnation AU
What if Jessamy, instead of entering the Sunless Lands, reincarnates after her death, and meets Dream in her next life?
Just imagine. Hob and Dream are walking hand in hand in a park, passing by a group of kids. They're all orphans, enjoying their daily outing, running around, playing catch, Dream doesn't pay much attention to them, but then there's a little girl with pale skin and raven-black hair, she's lively and cheerful and their eyes meet and the recognition sends Dream to his knees because it's her.
Jessamy runs to him so fast that she almost trips over her own feet, while Dream is already honest-to-god weeping by the time she reaches him. Their embrace would be bone-crushing if Dream wasn't scared of hurting her - he doesn't spend much time around children, you see, the last time he held one in his arms was eons ago -, and his hands are trembling as he cradles the precious child closer, not quite ready to let go of her yet. He feels Hob kneeling down behind him, a steady hand on his back, a gesture of grounding he's immensely grateful for.
"You're Dream," says the girl with such certainty that shatters his heart in two then mends it immediately again. "You're my Papa."
Another sob threatens to break from his throat and he feels like someone stabbed him in the chest with a sword, but the last thing he wants is to scare away Jessamy, who's smiling at him as if not a day has gone by since they last saw each other.
"I can be your Papa if you want me to," Dream promises, no, swears, on everything he has, "my dear Jessamy. How much I missed you."
He has no idea how much Jessamy remembers, or how a legal adoption process works, he doesn't know a single thing save that in this life he won't let any harm come to her, and she will be the happiest, most cherished child of two worlds.
[the fic based on this is now complete]
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markwatnae · 2 years
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“You’re a fair bit quieter today than usual,” Hob says, soft and coaxing. “Can I do anything?”
Those four words make the back of his throat sting. He grits his teeth.
Hob knows. He always knows. He clocked Dream in 1389 and he’s only gotten better at reading him in the past 637 years. Dream couldn’t hope to hide anything from him now.
Dream looks down at his lap. Hob’s attention doesn’t waver.
“I lost Jessamy today,” he says. “One hundred years ago.”
“Oh, darling,” Hob breathes. “I’m so sorry.”
Dream shakes his head. He’s not sure why. It just feels right. Perhaps a last ditch effort to deny his greatest loss in the last century.
The tears come now as they did that day in 1926 — hot, silent, and choking. Hob remains beside him, a warm and comforting companion to his grief.
“I had ravens before her and now I have Matthew but she was at my side the longest. They would hang around fifty years or so before moving on and that was fine with me. She joined me just after we met in 1789.”
“I wish I could have met her,” Hob says, and that brings on a fresh wave of silent tears.
Jessamy would not have liked Hob at the beginning but he would have grown on her like he did Dream. They would have been friendly by 1789 but seeing Hob take down two hulking guards with naught but a teacup for threatening Dream would have solidified him in her good graces.
He tells Hob this and can’t help the trembling smile that pulls at his lips as Hob laughs.
Hob and Matthew get on like a 14th century inn on fire (thatched roofs!) but Jessamy would have come to love Hob as Dream does. She was slow to warm but that hesitance hid an expressive and warm interior like he.
Matthew enjoys the occasional cuddle on the sofa or in bed but usually prefers to bed down on his own. Jessamy, on the other hand, never let the opportunity for a cuddle go unseized. She was always preening her feathers to get them to lie flat after a good nap in Dream’s lap, arms, or nuzzled between his neck and the collar of his coat. She often chose that spot when he was sitting still for extended periods of time.
“I don’t want Matthew to change—I like him just as he is—but I can’t help—“ He falters, breath catching.
“You miss that connection,” Hob finishes. “It’s hard, adjusting to a new normal, and it takes time.”
Dream’s hand trembles as he reaches for Hob. He catches that shaking hand between his own and kisses the fingertips.
“She was in my coat when they captured me. Technically, she was in The Dreaming, but when they took everything away, she escaped through my coat,” he swallows. “She was the last being I touched for over a century.”
He doesn’t move away when Hob wipes a tear from his cheek.
“I never got to,” he chokes on his breath, “to touch her again.”
He does move away when Hob shifts but realizes belatedly he wasn’t trying to touch him, only angle his body differently. But Hob released his hand without hesitation when he retreated.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’ve nothing to apologize for,” Hob says easily. “Tell me more, anything.”
“Mervyn got a few of the more artistically inclined residents of The Dreaming together and had them paint a mural in my castle of my ravens. Jessamy’s picture is the largest of the bunch. I don’t know how they remembered what they all looked like. Lucienne probably recalls them all and assisted.”
“I’d love to see it sometime.”
Dream looks up to find Hob watching him. Hob smiles at him, sweetly, encouraging. He feels as if he could face anything if Hob simply smiled at him like that.
“Can I tell you about how she died?” He asks, voice and body shivering.
“Of course, my love.”
The strength in Hob’s eyes lends Dream a bit of his own. He’s not told anyone the details of Jessamy’s death since he returned. The grief was too fresh and then he had work to do and it seemed unimportant to bother anyone else with.
But Hob looks him in the eye and says, “Anything,” and Dream believes him.
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fulcrum-arts · 2 years
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“Look after him, Matthew. He needs it.”
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missingrache · 7 months
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Day 8: Wings
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