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wyvernquill · 2 months

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I'm rewatching Anastasia and this convo would really fit in your AU

Hob: look, Murphy, I'm just trying to help Murphy: do you really think I'm an Endless, Hob?

Hob: you know I do.

Murphy: then stop bossing me around

I'm sorry, this ask is already over a year old, but I finally got around to writing a scene based on it! (Plus some Murphy&Gil bits I wanted to put in somewhere, anyway.) Hope you enjoy!

[Mild warning for contemplation of one's potential death, and having once lost the will to life - I wouldn't call it suicidal ideation, it doesn't quite go there, but I figured I'd better be safe than sorry.]

Link to Anastasia AU Masterpost!

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

“Hob.” Murphy interrupts, eyes flashing with frustration.

(Today’s how-to-be-a-Dream-Lord lessons are not going well - not that any of them have, but this one is a particular catastrophe. Gil has already given up on their contrary charge for the evening, and with the way Murphy’s shoulders are up and tension bristles between them, Hob is unlikely to make much more headway tonight.)

“Tell me. Do you truly believe I am him? The Prince of Stories? The Dream King?”

“Yes,” Hob lies, easily, unflinchingly, and with a smile on his face. A good lie has to be treated like the truth, and maybe, one day, it’ll actually turn into one. They’ve been trying so very hard to teach Murphy this, he should know it by now. “Of course.”

“Then, perhaps,” Murphy spits, and despite his feral arrogance, despite the way he holds his head high and squares his slender shoulders, it’s not the regal indignation of a King, but the helpless tantrum of an angry child who’s failing in class. “You ought to finally treat me with the fucking deference an Endless is owed, Hob Gadling!”

(There are tears in his pale-blueish eyes, Hob can see them, can hear the crack in Murphy’s hoarse voice.

Nobody has treated this man with respect in all the years he remembers, that much is obvious. Nobody but his birds. And he knows, they all know, that he’s no prince, that his blood runs red, not blue - runs at all, come to think of it. Endless don’t bleed.

But he wants to be. He wishes he was. Murphy is not Dream of the Endless, but he is ravenous for the spoils of such a role. Desperate to be respected, to be worshipped and revered, desperate to be owed the sort of treatment he has never received.

Hob ought to be ashamed of himself for taking advantage of that helpless hunger for kindness and decency… and he will be. For the rest of his immortal life, he’ll live with the shame of what he did to cheat Death, and still not regret it.)

Hob plasters a smile over his impatience and opens his mouth, gentle, calming words already on the tip of his tongue. Murphy is lonely and frightened and frustrated, that much is obvious. Fine. Hob knew it wouldn’t be easy, to teach their false Dream all he needs to know, and this is not an insurmountable roadblock. If Hob can only reassure him, earn his trust, be his friend, even, it will make everything much easier. Poor thing, lashing out like an injured animal. But Hob can surely coax him into-

Murphy recoils. Flinches back from the admittedly-half-faked warmth, his face, his entire bearing collapsing into itself like a heavy portcullis rattling shut.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, pointing one of his stick-thin fingers at Hob’s face, “don’t you DARE! I have no need for your false pity, and I want no part of it! I want-” the white of his eyes is bloodshot, and in his terror, in his fury, in his desperation, awash in unshed tears “-I want out. This deal is off. Find some other poor sucker to teach how to play Endless, I won’t do it! I’ve had enough!”

And before Hob can say as much as a single word, Murphy has snatched up his coat and slipped out onto the rainy street, Matthew following - but not after awarding Hob with a colder glare than he would’ve thought a mere raven capable of.

Murphy does not manage to flee very far.

He is in an unfamiliar town, with no money, no valuables besides the clothes on his back that are now slightly finer than he used to be; and the winter is cold and deep and stifling. He gets no further than a handful of streets until he slows halfway across a bridge, shaking with cold more than anger, snowflakes dancing around him. It is a quiet, windless night - and it has always calmed him, to stand underneath the dark sky at night, and know that most of the city lies asleep around him.

Matthew settles on the bridge’s parapet, caws. Hops closer, cocks his head to one side. There is a clear question in his bearing, a what now? glinting in his eyes. Birds are open and honest - unlike humans. Liars and hypocrites all.

“...I do not know, Matthew.” Murphy admits quietly. He has taken the coat, but forgotten the scarf in his haste, so he tugs at his collar, to keep the cold air from trickling down his spine. “I truly don’t.”

He does not have the means to return to London on his own - and at the same time, does not have much desire to do so. He had nothing and no-one there, but for the birds. Pockets can be picked anywhere - he could make a new start in this nameless town.

…if only it weren’t winter.

Murphy shivers, feeling his bones rattle with it. The night is calm, but bitterly cold, and it will not end well for him, sitting in the snow until morning. In the dark of winter, he cannot afford a night without shelter, a day without a sure way to come by some food to keep his strengths up. In London, he would have known where to go. Here, he is helpless.

Damn Hob Gadling, and may Destruction take him! Murphy will have no other choice but to crawl back to him, and hope he’ll be kept on as Endless-impersonator. Hope, because Murphy’s made a right pig’s ear of it so far, slow and clumsy to learn, and outright refusing to play at nobility. He will always be a gutter rat, Murphy knows it. They can’t fashion him into a Dream King, and perhaps this flare of temper will prove to Hob once and for all that there is no point in trying.

There is no point in trying.

Murphy gives up on his collar, and rests his hands on the parapet. Matthew caws, and presses his head against his arm, a far better reassurance than Hob’s false smiles. It comforts Murphy, at least a little. He’s not alone, never alone - no matter how lonely he might feel.

Underneath them, a foreign river flows just fast enough to avoid the freeze. The water does not reflect any stars, but the snow dancing over the surface makes it almost look as if. His own reflection wavers and breaks across the waves.

(Some nights, he dreams of a darkened shore and a sea stretching far past the horizon, black waters that fold up into the night sky, indistinguishable from each other. Of a wooden pier, and galaxies swirling underneath.

Whenever he leans out too far, the reflected eyes he meets are not his own, and he wakes with a scream lodged in his throat.)

Murphy shivers again, and savours the last remnants of his pride, before it, too, will have to be cast into the dirt and abandoned.

“I believe you forgot this, young friend.”

Murphy’s head snaps up.

Dreams and nightmares approach without a whisper, perfectly silent at night if they choose to be. Gilbert is no exception; and if Murphy were to pay attention to anything but his heart racing like a startled hare, he would perhaps be a little distressed by the fact that there are no fresh footprints in the snow beside his own.

But it’s only Gilbert, kind-eyed and not-human, holding out Murphy’s scarf like a peace offering.

Murphy does not take it.

“Did Gadling send you?” he asks, wary.

“Robert informed me what had transpired between you two.” Gilbert admits. “But rest assured, I am here on nobody’s behalf but my own - and, well, yours. Frightfully nippy tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

Murphy does not say. He trusts Gil as little as Hob, perhaps even less. A dream attempting to betray the memory of his master seems hardly like a paragon of virtue, and is perhaps even more suspicious than a deceitful human.

(He does, however, take the scarf now. It’s too cold to be stubborn, and when he winds it around his neck, it smells of sunshine on a summer meadow, warm and comforting.)

“And if you truly wish to leave… dear boy, I won’t stop you.” Murphy does not like the way Gilbert looks at him, as if trying to see someone else beneath his skin. He does not meet Murphy’s eyes, if he can help it. “In fact I would send you off with well-earned compensation for your time, and travel fare. Unless…”

Gil steps up to the parapet beside him.

“...unless I can convince you to stay…?”

“Why would you?” Murphy mutters, instead of why would I, if you’re offering to pay me off? “It should be perfectly obvious that I’ll never pass muster.”

“Ironically,” Gilbert smiles, but only at the man he pretends to see whenever he looks at Murphy, “it is well known among the former denizens of the Dreaming that His Lordship was often prone to very similar bouts of pessimism. I have faith in you, Murphy - and so does Robert Gadling. Please, do not leave. I rather doubt we will succeed without you.”

"You…" Murphy struggles with the words, the sentiment behind them lodging uncomfortably in his throat. "You have great respect, even love, for Dream of the Endless' memory. So why do you pretend? Why try to fool his siblings that I am him?"

For a moment, Gilbert seems ready to insist, as always, that Murphy is, or at least might be - but, to his credit, he does not play Murphy for a fool, in the end. Not this time. Not like Hob always, always does.

"You are quite correct. I loved His Lordship deeply, in a way that could never be understood by anyone but a dream and their creator." Gilbert sighs, his soft meadow-green eyes gazing far into the distance of better days, lined by old grief. "He made me to be the Heart of the Dreaming, and he was the Dreaming, so I knew his heart and self better than any other. The loss, when he… you cannot imagine it, young friend. I thought I would wither away and die. I thought that would be a mercy. To live as a dream in a universe that does not contain Dream of the Endless seemed entirely unthinkable, and to be quite frank, I did not think I would survive longer than a year at most in the Waking."

"I understand," says Murphy, quietly, and he does. He is no stranger to the feeling of being so untethered, only floating along with the end looming over him, death - not Death, no longer, the Endless have been cast from their domains - only biding its time.

(In the first year he can remember, Murphy did not think he would see another, either.)

"And yet, the year passed. And I lived." Gilbert smiles, faintly, taking off his glasses to polish them. "I suspect it was humanity which saved me, for all that they robbed me of my home and Lord, as well. I found… such joy, in this world. In my human form, wandering among them. Calling a few select individuals friends, even. Young Robert's companionship was a particular blessing, and I owe him more than he can ever know."

He sets the glasses back on his nose.

"Lord Morpheus is dead." Says Gilbert. Says it like fact, like something too absolute for the sort of dream-creature born of hypotheticals he is, like an unshakeable truth he has resigned himself to. His voice only barely breaks over the words. "And I shall grieve him for all the rest of my days… but I must live to mourn him. Life goes on, young friend, and we must all move along with it. And, well. I cannot speak for Robert's motivations, but the true reason why I have agreed to this mad scheme…"

Gilbert takes Murphy's freezing hands in his own. His fingertips are not lined quite right, they would not leave prints that look even remotely like those of a human - but aside from that, his grip is warm, avuncular, firm, reassuring.

"I fear that his siblings will not be able to live on without him." Gilbert confesses, quietly. "They are not made to accept change and move on from a loss as monumental as what humanity has wrought upon them. To have you… not him, not entirely, but perhaps enough… it is my most solemn hope that it might give them some form of closure at long last."

"So that's what it is?" Murphy laughs, bitterly. "Charitable concern for the well-being of personifications of abstract concepts!?"

"No." Gilbert corrects mildly. "Love. For my creator's family."

Murphy scoffs. His chest aches with it.

"What you, hmm. What you must understand, about Lord Morpheus…" Gilbert seems to be choosing his words very carefully. "...is that, for all that he was often harsh and commanding, he was so very loving, always. My Lord loved with all his self, even if he would attempt to turn a cold shoulder to the world - and I think you are much like him in temperament, young Murphy.”

Murphy does not acknowledge that. He doesn't think he can.

“He loved his family, and he loved the Dreaming, and all the beings in it. I was his heart, or near as, you must recall, I knew the truth at the core of him.

Memories or not, love as he did, and you will be a credit to his name, and a comfort to all who knew him."

(Murphy does not have it in himself to love like Dream of the Endless did. He already struggles to love at all.

But perhaps, for the sake of the entity whose memory he will dishonour, he can try.)

“So. Will you come back and resume your lessons?” Gil asks, very gently. “You may leave, now or any other time, of course you may. But it would be to your benefit, as well as to that of many others, if you did not.”

“I’ll stay,” Murphy forces out. He could blame the way his hands shake on the cold. “For now.”

“Thank you, dear child. Thank you.” This time, when Gilbert smiles, it very nearly feels like it is directed at him, after all. “Now, let’s get you out of this cold, hm? And Matthew as well.”

Murphy lets Gilbert herd him back to their inn, sits through Hob Gadling’s apology and wonders if it was sincere - he can never tell, with this infuriating man - and continues to learn as much as possible about the life of Dream of the Endless.

But he’s slowly realising, if anything will convince the Endless siblings, then it certainly won’t be the trivia. He’ll have to learn to love like the Lord of Stories, for their deception to have a snowflake’s chance in hell.

(Oh, wonderful. As if this wasn’t difficult enough already…)

#WyWrites #dreamling #the sandman #anastasia dreamling au #thank you for the ask and sorry it took so long!#maybe at some point i'll go back and also write hob successfully recruiting murphy #but i was a little stuck on that so i skipped the recruitment and wrote this instead #fiddler's green's role in this au is just very interesting to dig into #deception and manipulation is not in his nature and the closest he gets to selfishness is just wanting to live a human life #so why would he agree to help hob with this scheme?#i'm quite pleased with the way i spun it - he really does it out of love and thinks it's ultimately for a good cause #and subconsciously the assurance that gil is doing it out of loyalty rather than as betrayal is very (suspiciously) important to murphy #also very light 1889 meeting parallels with hob and murphy's fight at the start!

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ladyelainehilfur · 11 months

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Since we all seem to be in agreement that the general webtoon fandom (outside of reddit, private servers, and the app) is suspiciously quiet ➡️ send me an ask!! I love love love talking about the series I'm reading and I'm more than happy to geek out with anyone who's willing to share their excitement 🥺

And send asks to each other! Become mutuals, post your opinionated rants, your webtoon rankings, character vs character, the works. Being a webtoon fan doesn't have to be a loner type of deal!

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lotus-pear · 3 months

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as thanks 4 getting me into bsd (i am having such a time)

first ever kyouka drawing!!!! using these colors is an anti art style in and of itself omg,, official bsd ref sheet colors r my anti-palette

OMGGGGG SHES SO FUCKING CUTE🥹🥹💞 SRY FOR GETTING YOU INTO BSD THATS COMPLETELY MY B I CANT BELIEVE I DID THIS TO ANOTHER INNOCENT PERSON,,,,,,,,,also yea i never use the official ref sheets when coloring tbh i just choose my own palette which probably explains why everything is inaccurate but ok💀👍🏼 ANYWAY ENOUGH ABT ME IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THE SHOW AND KYOUKA IS SO BBG IN UR STYLE😭😭😭🥹🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺🥺 SHES LIKE MY FAV GIRLIE EVER MY DAUGHTER I LOVE HER SM

#hope you enjoy season 1!!!!#(lmk when you meet chuuya🫡)#AH ALSO. since ur a genshin fan #everybody calls me fucking insane for this but when you first meet him PLEASE tell me whether or not he gives off major childe energy #LIKE IK IM RIGHT ABT THIS #lotus’s asks

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michyeosseo · 2 months

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I am always indebted to you. – It will cost quite a lot.

Honey Lee and Yoon Sa Bong as JO YEO-HWA & JANG SO-WOON

KNIGHT FLOWER (2024)

#kdramaladies #kdramaedit #kdrama #knight flower #honey lee #yoon sa bong #밤에 피는 꽃 #may those who celebrate have a lovely international women's day x #a dedicated otp layout for the y2k follows hoho #(the puppy is cute-ish if one is into that sort but they're more ~my style~ + our titular heroine has two hands)#a slowburn realization yet such specific hit for me #was that time jang sowoon straight up declared commit to my lady's emancipation or gtfo she's so real to jo yeohwa like that ok #like what do you mean the merchant guild leader and the widowed lady slash vigilante not only are acquainted #but has partnered to save others since their fateful meeting #she pledges to give her All and she need only ask #having understated banter while they're at (the very open secret) meetups at sowoon's private quarters #yeohwa plops herself there sans knocking every night #quirky '대행수~' this; sardonic '아씨...' that + occasional lip slapping then The Ledger waltzes in before convo ends #the damsel trope check so very important despite well the rush of it all #someone anyone please write that glossed over aftermath >.<#OH AND THEN HEARTY FINALE BREAKFASTTTTTTT #the suggestive whispering i would have to make that gifset separately as well whew Hot Hot Hot #honey unni said in the post-drama interview she's most excited shooting scenes with sabong unnir because she's bringing it every!time!

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intheorangebedroom · 1 year

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Hi! My brain won't leave me alone. Is Benny totally clueless what's happening with reader? I mean not about Frankie but she is definitely keeping her distance and secrets. She doesn't really opened up to him about her past struggles because emotions feel messy and she hates to be out of control (?). And she feels like she doesn't really connect with him because of being vulnerable means, she should trust another guy which she didn't do since Frankie. I wonder if he feels he is more invested in this relationship emotionally and he could never fully reach her no matter what he does.

Thank you so much for this ask 🧡 You get them, her especially, and it makes me very emotional, in a very good way 🧡 I'm afraid I'm going to ramble again, I'm very sorry 🤦🏻‍♀️

"emotions feel messy and she hates to be out of control"? Is a perfect way to describe her struggles. She was raised by a selfish, narcissist mother who resented her for just being there, so she grew up thinking she takes up too much space, and that her emotions were not valid. So she's learned to bury them, sometimes dulling them with physical pain.

This said, Benny has been a big step forward in her life. While Eric was her attempt at "normality", Benny makes her feel genuinely good. He's carefree, and his levity is contagious. But she's not completely herself.

I’m fascinated by the idea that some of us are complex puzzles who present different sides of ourselves to people. The idea that no one can know anyone thoroughly, and how it plays in the soulmate trope. That soulmates instinctually know each other entirely, and love each other wholly.

PTMY is a fairy tale because that's what Frankie is to Reader, and Reader to Frankie.

Regarding Benny, it took him a LONG while, where Frankie would have sensed it in a split second, but he's finally realised something's wrong. In “Love is Blindness”, their conversation on the phone was supposed to show that. He starts by talking about his drink with Frankie but then remembers to ask her about her night with Rosie, he wants to hang the curtains, in the end he plainly asks her if everything's alright. I've tried to be a little more obvious about the fact that he suspects something in the next chapter.

He thinks -poor baby- he might be doing something wrong, and he's willing to fix it. Benny doesn't pause to think, he acts. He's not good with words, but he does give her affection. I don’t think he's ever formulated it to himself, that he's more invested. He certainly is, but that's not how he perceives it. He's too straightforward. He thinks that she needs more time, and he's willing to give it to her.

And you are right, she's made a conscious choice to not open herself to anyone like she did with Frankie. She's waiting for him. She's been waiting for him her entire life. Long before she even met him.

Wouldn't you wait for this man?

I hope I’ve answered your questions?

THANK YOU, ILY 🧡🧡🧡🧡

#i'm sorry i was never concise #pleased to meet you asks #pleased to meet you #frankie morales #the pilot™️#benny miller

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xx-sketchy-xx · 5 months

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(This isn't an ask but i thought i was following this entire time kajsdakf but since im here i just wanna say i love you and your art <3)

You and my goober woul prob get along well. Cute murder and all that.

I love you and your art aswell, it’s positively fantastic

#Asks #answer #i can’t believe it took me as long as it did to remember I could press follow #I have a problem with that actually #I was introduced to you when two of my other favorite artist pointed you out #everyone loves you fr #Like me.. I love you haha #The weird fellow I’ve drawn with you is uncle #He’s pleased to meet you

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empresskadia · 2 months

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Hear me out:

If you're dating a Spartan, they're more than likely used to you as a member of active military, right? They're so used to you being a soldier that they tend to forget that before them, before the war, you were someone else. Like, Linda finding out you were a pianist, or Kelly finding out you were a gardener, or Naomi finding out you were in art school. Something like that.

OKAY I'M HAVING A FANGIRL MOMENT BECAUSE THE CHARACTER I HAVE IN MY HEAD WITH NAOMI IS AN ARTIST AND YOU READ MY MIND AND I'M SCREAMING

anyways-

I'm excited you brought this up and this whole prompt, because the Spartans would be more used to a more active military partner, whether it's being a Marine, ODST, a Spartan-IV, Scientist, Engineer, etc. They used to you fighting in a war, Spartans are antisocial by nature, so they most likely wouldn't hang out with your friends or other teammates, and most other branches of the Military view Spartans in awe, so they most likely never see you in a "normal" environment until way later on.

I'm sure they know you have hobbies, they've heard you talk about them and the Spartans delight in it for you but they've never seen you doing them. Most of the Spartans probably never thought of who their partner was before them.

So they are always pleasantly surprised to find out new things about their S/o, like, Linda would be scouting the ship looking for her partner after a mission, more likely than not, she's never heard someone play the piano before in person, sure, Deja played them music as children but Linda had never seen someone play in-person before, she didn't even know the Infinity had a piano. Imagine her surprise when she enters the empty bar and finds her partner lost in their own world playing a random song that might have significance to them. When you finish the song, she wants to hear it again, scaring you half to death when she silently appears at your side, "What song was that? Will you play it again for me?"

Or, Kelly going for a run around the Infinity's memorial park one early morning, say, maybe after breakfast, she knew you had plans after eating with Blue team. She respects her partner's space, choosing not to pry and going on with her business, of course, Kelly can spot her partner a mile away, it's second nature for her at this point. So when she sees you digging in the ground with flower pots all around, she goes to investigate. Her shadow towers over your hunch-over form and you just give her a smile over your shoulder before going back to business. Kelly observes for a while, remembering a conversation in which her partner said something about growing a garden again. "Is this what you mean by 'green thumb'? I don't think these flowers grow tomatoes."

Or, one night, Naomi finds you, Mal, Vaz, Dev, and Phillips, all slightly intoxicated in the staff room, chatting away about life before entering the military while her partner is tapping away at a datapad with a stylus. She's seen you use it before, assuming you were working on reports or reading in-time information. Naomi is about ready to drag her partner away before you've had too much when you start talking about a boarding school on earth that your parents sent you to before the war started, an art academy. Dev leans over, and gaps at the datapad before ripping it out of your hands to show the table and Naomi has to blink before she registers the sketches. Most of them were of...her? Different angles, her expressions that she often shows to you, some were even in armor and you had gotten all the pieces drawn correctly. There was one of BB, and the whole crew, another one of a previous unit you've served in and the last one was her laughing with stars and hearts drawn around her, the words 'the love of my life." written above her head.

I can even assume that John's heard his partner hum melodies, never a full song but humming to yourself while working on a project or even getting ready for bed. He's never questioned it, it's something you always did, he's aware some of the tunes you hum are from your grandmother. What he didn't expect was to return from a mission and being unable to find his S/o for a while until Roland directed him to the Infinity's bar, saying the Spartan-IVs convinced you to perform. It's your voice he's aware of first before seeing his partner on the small stage, singing away like nothing else mattered around you. John isn't surprised when you notice him right away after giving a bow as the room fills with cheers and 'encores'. You both slip away from the area knowing this wasn't John's crowd to be around. "I didn't know that was a song. Or that you sang."

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