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avelera · 1 year

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I do wonder if we get the beginning of Brief Lives in the next Sandman Netflix season, specifically with this moment:

If it's going to be played quite the same way? If they end up skipping straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives (which I think is an excellent idea to be clear) it raises a few possibilities:

(cut for comic spoilers & speculation)

Personally I find this moment a bit weird in general because Dream doesn't even name the woman who supposedly just broke his heart and thus launched the action of this arc. Also the fact we later find out it's Thessaly who in the comic at least (the show can always soften the character as they have others) fucking sucks, for her to kick off Dream's sadness roadtrip of self-destruction feels like such a waste. It also feels weird to imagine babygirl Netflix Tom Sturridge Dream going for someone like Thessaly after his whole arc of trying to be a better person and learning important lessons and also just...being a much softer character who is trying to do better, going for someone like Thessaly (who doesn't even like him by her own admission) and who is also terrible feels like a tragic step backwards in his character development. Not inconceivable, just terribly tragic.

Which has me thinking that one possibility is if they go straight from Seasons of Mist to Brief Lives, this moment above could be about Nada, who does choose to pass on after he frees her, even after expressing that she still loves him. That love is just not enough for her to accept his offer to be his queen and stay (after 10k years of Hell, who can blame her?!).

Point is, this moment instead being part of the long tail of Dream's self-recrimination about Nada choosing to pass on would make a lot of sense and be a much more justifiable kick-off for Dream going on a roadtrip that's an expression of his doubts in his ability to change for the better (and therefore, must he die?). Nada's punishment is so heinous I can easily see the Sturridge Dream being conflicted about his own actions for much longer than he appears to be in the comic, leading to this moment after he set her free.

Thessaly is an immortal, so even if/when she shows up, her having an acrimonious "angry ex girlfriend" reaction to Dream need not be because she was the girlfriend who kicked off the Brief Lives arc, they could have just dated sometime in the past centuries and still have vitriol between them.

And finally, and this is just me being a shameless Dream/Hob shipper, I do kind of wonder how one even justifies Dream ending up with an immortal human like Thessaly when Hob is right there.

Look, in the comic, Hob barely seems to remember Dream exists when he's not there, so there's no feeling of "Why doesn't Dream hook up with Hob instead??" when you first learn about Thessaly. But in the show, you've got the 1789 tension, the missed meeting, the devotion of the New Inn. Dream going for another, shitty immortal brunet when Hob is right there feels a bit like a slap in the face in that context.

And let me be clear, it's not because I'm being shipper garbage that thinks Neil can, should, or would alter the story to appease Dreamling shippers or that Dream dating Thessaly in the show as he does canonically in the comic would be an intentional slap in the face to Dreamling shippers! It is beyond wishful thinking to imagine we'd get more than what the comic offers which is a few beautifully rendered, sentimental moments between them for us to build our fanon ship off of. It's not Neil's responsibility to make it canon so don't be fucking weird about it.

It's more that the show is so queer. The comic is queer too but the show absolutely focuses and centers the narrative on predominantly queer couples and people, more than straight ones. They also softened for example the Corinthian and confirmed he's gay and has some non-destructive relationships with men, he's not just a murderer of gay men. So the narrative is even more queer than the comic.

In the 80s/90s when Sandman came out, the idea of Dream as the lead protagonist being canonically queer I think would have been pretty unlikely. He's very, very het in the comics, with the closest we get to a whisper of him not being strictly het being a mention of Lucifer once being beautiful and some speculation they might have had a relationship.

But the show is so very queer and the energy so charged between Dream and Hob (and the writers acknowledged and encouraged it!) that there is no, in my opinion, natural conclusion that, "Sure, almost everyone else is queer in this, but not Dream, obviously." If anything, it would be jarring to have so many queer characters only to slam the door shut on the possibility that Dream might also be queer.

Which is my roundabout way of saying: I wonder how Thessaly will fit into this at all. I speculate she might be removed entirely from this beat of Brief Lives, in favor of making Dream more remorseful about Nada in a sympathetic way. Furthermore, introducing Thessaly when Hob, another immortal who actually likes Dream is right there the idea that he opts for Thessaly (a woman who doesn't even like him to the point where she plays an active part later in his death) instead after being tortured for 106 years is actually painfully heartbreaking.

So in conclusion: eh? Who knows!

But also: DREAM, Hob is RIGHT THERE! Date HIM, not fucking THESSALY?!

#the sandman #dreamling #thessaly #nada #brief lives #sandman netflix speculation #sandman meta

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linddzz · 3 months

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Dreamling Nonsense Masterpost

Looking for a fic? For a shit post? For a long winded au thread? Playlists? Got it here. Keeping it Dreamling for now until I really have the time to scour through my various fandom posts to collect the Big Hits.

Audacity in Human Form: E. main WIP. A post season 1 "let's see these two figure their shit out" exploration that's best described as two character studies stacked inside of a fanfic shaped coat. My main tagline for it is "it isn't unrequited, Dream just needs therapy." The fic exploring how the two weirdos I have in my head got together.

Fics/Tumblr Ficlets

"Audacity in Human Form" Series

Not exactly a structured chronological series. I have a pretty set version of my Dream and Hob in the canon!universe, so all the fics I write of them are just the same two dolls I'm bumping together in the same sandbox. They can be read in any order or separately, but there are characterization threads and things mentioned that tie them all together. I like to think that put together they can give fun context or more depth to each other :)

I'm less into Big Plots and more into just having fun bumping these dolls together and playing with how they interact!

It's a WIP and I write slow, as my job takes a lot of mental bandwidth.

(Other fics in the same series can be read even while the first isn't done! They don't really spoil much except for the fact that they do end up together. But of course they are.)

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon: Gen. Drabble ficlet on Tumblr as I start exploring my Shit-wizard Hob AU. More of a rough draft concept fic

Obviously: E. smut prompt fill one-shot. PWP. Dream is a needy eldritch pissbaby and also violently romantic. Hob scruffs him for some much needed gentle domming.

This Isn't the Trope: Teen. Lots of cussing. Johanna is agressively investigating an immortal man, Hob is looking forward to being dramatically rescued by his hot supernatural boyfriend. No one but Morpheus has a good time.

OTHER FICS/DRABBLES

Audacity in Human Form related posts (esp the ones that broke containment)

"Oysters have nightmares like this"

"Jokes on you, you're into that shit"

Hob: "no. Shut up. I'm talking now."

Characterization Notes aka: I'm gonna start bullying Morpheus

Other mutterings about writing or snippets are under the tags "#my fic" and "#audacity in human form"

AU Cooking:

I'm honestly better at coming up with every single detail for an AU without actually writing the fic, but I like playing in the sandbox and other people seem to have fun with them too :)

Human!AU. There are kinda two versions of this that I'm starting to meld together.

Red Flags AU post: Hob is hired to be the party ruining messy boyfriend, but cannot begin to compete with the insanity that is the Endless family and the Hot Mess Express Morpheus, who hired him. They fall in love instantly. "Why would I fix him??? He's perfect."

Red Flags AU 2: slight deviation from the OG where everything is the same, except Morpheus' messy friend Johanna accidentally introduces them and instantly regrets it. She did not anticipate Hob reacting to Morpheus' red flags like a charging bull.

Assorted Human!Morpheus facts

Shit-wizard Hob AU: where Hob is still immortal, except Death is his Endless buddy. He first meets Morpheus when trying to take up occultism at Fawney Rig (he's bad at it but is gonna stick around now. For reasons.)

Meta-ish Shitposting:

Hob meets Thessaly. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" starts playing ominously in the distance when she doesn't appreciate how much of a needy clingy freak Morpheus is.

Spotify Playlists:

I process Blorbo feelings with hyper specific playlists. Putting Dreamling and other fandom ones here bc I guess it's about time I share more of them

Audacity in Human Form PL: 1h33m fic specific. Set up to alternate Dream/Hob POV. Blatant "2012 fandom brain" indulgence in here.

Hot Mess Endless Express: 1hr45m the general Dream playlist. Not ship specific, all romantic songs are how I just see him in any relationship. Mostly serious, except when it isn't but especially when it isnt

The Devil of Fawney Rig: the playlist I imagine goes in Dreams head when he's stuck in a fishbowl and horny for revenge. Made with the shit-wizard Hob AU in mind

Newton Goes Kaiju All Over Everybody's Ass: 1hr it really is too bad that there was never a second Pacific Rim movie but wow isn't Dark!Geiszler a great concept? 🙃

EDDIE I MADE A PLAYLIST EDDIE: 44m Venom made a playlist for Eddie, isn't that nice?

Mountain Son: 1h30m Bagginshield Thorin feelings ahoy. Made with Mahrâna in mind.

The Bacchae: 1h. The soundtrack for the dream production of the Bacchae in my head. Meant to follow the progression of the play

The Huntress and the Maenad: 1h30m insane sapphic bitch in the woods solidarity

Mysteries: 7+hours!!!!!! The ongoing playlist for joining the cult of Dionysus and eating a billionaire in the woods

#masterpost #look i finally did it

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jiliansky-blog · 6 months

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Witche's love. Chapter 3. I still care

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 2100

Warning: spoilers to The kindly ones. A little bit of swearing.

You were preparing everything in your room. This will be hard. As far as you understand, Thessaly was stronger than you as a witch. And she won’t give up easily.

And then Morpheus appeared in your room. You didn’t expect that, and you silently looked at him with surprise.

“Morpheus”, you finally said.

You want to ask what he was doing in your room. But you don’t want to be rude. Not to him. Because he was already getting through a lot.

“I wanted to see you”, he said.

He looked confused, serious, and exhausted. And behind all of this warmth lies the Morpheus you loved the most.

“Why?” you asked. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you”, he said. "I'm just confused. Why are you doing this? After everything I did to you? Aren’t you angry with me?”

“I was”, you replied. “And hurt and lonely. But it doesn’t mean I want your death. I can’t stand the thought that I appeared in the Dreaming and you won’t be there”.

“You won’t return to the Dreaming”, he noticed. “After we…”

“Break up?” You finished. “Yes, it would be hard. People usually avoid places where they were with their loved ones once they are heartbroken. It doesn’t help to heal”.

“Did you want to forget me?” he asked.

“I tried in natural ways”, you said sadly. “But I couldn’t. You are very hard to forget. And I didn’t try any potion or spell to help me”.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?” you sighed. “Why didn't I try this? Perhaps, I didn’t want to forget you after all”.

“Y\N”, Morpheus, made a step toward you. “You don’t have to do this. You can be in danger. And I… I don’t want you to be”.

“I want to help you”, you smiled.

His words warmed your heart and made your resolve stronger. He can be so charming and vulnerable that your heart aches.

"Besides, I don’t like her”, you said. “And I prepared everything. Whatever you have done, you don’t deserve death”.

“I killed my son”, he whispered, so quit, it can be your own inner voice.

“Still”, you said, looking at him and touching his cheek like you used to do once. “Do you want me to help you or not?”

“I do”, He leaned his head into your palm like a cat, and it almost melted you.

“Then let me help you”, you smiled softly.

“I don’t know how you don’t hate me”, Morpheus admitted.

“I just can’t”, you admitted. “Now, let me finish the ritual before it becomes too late”.

He nodded, but he didn’t go away. He just stepped back, watching you. It made you a little bit nervous. Well, you're more nervous than before. But you didn’t say anything.

You entered the circle and started to read the spell, calling the help of Hecate and the Fates. The light of the candles became brighter. You almost saw how the spell around that woman, Lyta Hall, shattered. And the confusion of Thessaly.

“Oh no, little witch”, you heard. “We are not doing this”.

You can see that she was trying blood magic. That’s the powerful magic. Witches rarely work with it. Because it can be too dangerous.

“Y\N” you heard Morpheus’s voice through the spell. “It affects you. You need to stop, or it will endanger you”.

“Yes, stop it”, you heard her voice say in your head. “Do you really want to save him? So what? So he can break your heart one more time, when he will get tired of you?”

Her mockery only made you angry, and you pushed your spell. You saw how the invisible wall of her spell broke like glass.

“Y\N, stop!” You heard a desperation in Morpheus’s voice. “You will hurt yourself if you continue this spell!”

But you need to finish. You almost stopped that selfish and cruel bitch. Although, you felt dizziness a little bit. The spell was broken, and your world became dark.

Morpheus

I felt panic go through me when I saw her fall to the floor. The blood was dripping from her nose. The candles stopped shining. I ran to her and took her hand. She was alive but unconscious. I need to take her to a safe place.

“What happened?” asked Lucienne when she saw us back in the castle.

“She passed out”, he said. “It took too much power for her. I hope she will survive. But now she should be in a safe place”.

“Is she going to be safe here?” Lucienne looked at me. “They are almost at our doors”.

“Thessaly can find her at her home”, I replied. “With me, she will be safer”.

“Where do you think she is now?” she asked.

“She is somewhere in the Dreaming”, I replied. “I’m going to find her. She didn’t say what she was exactly going to do”.

“Alright, my lord”, Lucienne nodded. “I will look after her”.

“Thank you, Lucienne,”, I said. “I need to find her so anything won’t happen to her”.

I won’t lose her again. Or I will never forgive myself.

Y\N

When you opened your eyes, you weren’t in your apartment anymore. And you weren’t in Morpheus' castle, either. But something tells you that you were in someone else’s dream. There were dark times, and sometimes you saw red lights. It was very weird.

“Hello?” You asked.

You heard the voice in the next room and opened the door. There was a woman. She looked crazy and tired. She has long, dark hair and dark skin. Is that…Lyta Hall?

“He killed him”, he murmured. “He took him and killed him.”.

“Lyta?” you asked.

The woman froze and turned to you. She looked at you with suspicion. You couldn’t tell if she was angry or just out of her mind.

“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help”, you replied. “You need to stop your seek for vengeance. They can kill Morpheus, and he doesn’t deserve it”.

“He deserves this!” she declined. “She stole and killed my baby!”

“He didn’t do this”, you said. “They came to him for different reasons. Besides, the Endless can’t hurt or kill humans”.

“But my son disappeared!” She was completely out of her mind and believed in her words. “He said that he would come for him”.

“And it wasn’t him who took your son”, you tried to reassure the pure woman. “I promised you he would never hurt the baby”.

“Why do you think so?” she asked.

“I know him”, you said.

“I love him”, you thought.

“I know him enough to say that he is incapable of this crime”, you said. “He did many wrong things, but killing a child is not one of them”.

“But where is my child?” she asked desperately.

“I don’t know”, you sighed. “But we will find him, I promise”.

“Y\N”, you heard Morpheus voice. “We should go”.

You turned around and saw Morpheus. He looked concerned. Even scared. Was he scared for you? Or was he scared of Lyta?

“Where is my son?” Lyta asked.

“Someone else took him”, he replied. “We are looking for him. But I don’t want to kill or harm him, I swear. You deserved sweet dreams, Lyta Hall”.

And she slowly fell to the floor. Then Morpheus gave you his hand.

“We need to go before her strange dream can let you go”, he said.

“But... can she stop them?” you asked, but took his hand anyway.

“I don’t know”, he sighed. “She was a trigger, but the bullet is already on the way”.

“Does it mean that all my help was for nothing?” you asked desperately.

“No, it wasn’t”, he said, shaking his head.

And you woke up in his castle. Does that mean he brings you here after you pass out?”

“I took you here”, he replied to your silent question. “I want you to be safe because I’m not sure how Thessaly reacts”.

“Thank you”, you whispered. “Morpheus, I don’t want you to die. You didn’t convince me that everything I did was in vain”.

“Why?” he asked. “Why does it matter?”

“The humanity....”, you started, but he stopped you.

“Humanity will survive”, he replied. “Her son will be the next Dream of the Endless. I don’t want anyone to suffer from my selfishness anymore”.

"Aright, then, I don’t want you to die because I still love you!” you said, and then I understood what you said.

There was silence. Morpheus looked at you with surprise and something else.

“Even after I left you?” he asked finally.

“As it seems”, you said. You looked away in embarrassment. “You were terrible. You broke my heart and left. I’m sure you never thought about me. And still, here I am, loving you anyway, because no one can compare to you”.

“I thought so,”, he whispered. “About you”.

“What?” you asked.

“It didn’t please me to break your heart”, he admitted. “I missed your presence in my life. It hurt me as well”.

“Then why did you do it?” you asked.

“Because I… I don't want to ruin your life”, he confessed.

“I don’t understand”, you sighed.

“Everyone I loved ended up badly, and all my relationships as well”, he said. “I didn’t want it for you. And I don't want you to suffer”.

“Em, boss?” Matthew appeared in our room.

“What?” Morpheus’s voice was a pure irritation.

“I’m sorry to interrupt”, the raven said. “But they are coming. They are really close. Lucienne asked what to do”.

“So my efforts indeed were in vain”, you said.

“No”, Morpheus said. “But you need to stay out of harm's way for now”.

“No”, you said. “I need to finish this”.

“You can’t stop them”, he sighed, like he was tired. “You already did everything you could. I can’t see you getting hurt”.

“So am I”, you shrugged. “Let me talk to them”.

“That’s not a wise idea”, he said.

“We will see”, you replied.

“He is right, girl”, Matthew said. "They've already killed a few dreams and nightmares. It won’t be safe for you”.

“I’m not a dream”, you said. “I’m stronger than them. If I can stop your ex, then I can stop them as well, you know”.

“My ex?” he asked, confused. “Did you know about that?”

“I did”, you said with a challenge. “And I don’t let you die because some bitch dumped you. She is not worth it!”

You felt anger. And he looked angry too. He doesn’t like it when someone talks about his love life. But you don’t care about it.

“I don’t want to die because of her!” he hissed.

“Then why do you want to die at all?” you asked angrily.

“Because I’m tired and full of misfortune,”, Morpheus said. “Because I killed my son. Because I cannot change. Because all my relationships ended in disaster".

“No, our relationship ends because you decided it would be better”, you said. “But no one understands why”.

He looked at you like you had cut him open.

“I’m not mortal, Morpheus,”, you said. “It won’t end in disaster if you don’t break my heart again. And I’m sorry about your former relationships. But our story shouldn’t end like this. We can make it work, if only you stop running away from problems”.

“Em guys”, Matthew reminded himself. “They are close”.

“I will go”, you said.

You felt the power that came out of your anger. And you didn’t give Morpheus a chance for Morpheus to answer. He will try to stop you. You shouldn’t let that happen.

Morpheus

I felt like my heart was ready to explode in my chest. I was ready to send her away to her world and never see her again. But then I felt that I couldn’t do this anymore.

“Boss, do you think it is a good idea?” asked Matthew.

“I couldn’t stop her”, I felt like my eyes were burning with unshed tears. “She is right. I made everything worse without a reason”.

“Boss, she needs you right now”, replied Matthew. “You can fix your relationship later, but only if the two of you survive”.

“You are right”, I sighed. “I can’t lose her again because of stupidity”.

I remember that time when I decided to let her go. The dreaming was covered in snow and cold for a very long time. And my heart too.

I was afraid of a future that may not even come, and that is why I pushed her away. I didn’t even try to make it work. Y\N was right. I was just running away from my problems. It was exactly what I did when Hob Gadling said that I was lonely.

But I won’t make this mistake again.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe @ladymoztaza

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #sandman fanfiction #the sandman

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saccharii · 1 year

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My Opinions on Dream’s Canon Romantic Relationships:

(Spoilers) (Don’t take this too seriously)

Nada - A dumpster fire that lasted like, what, a day? Two days? Nada lost her whole damn kingdom, fucking died, and got sent to hell for 10,000 years when Dream went full Nice Guy and couldn’t accept her rejection. Basically a woman gets punished for a man’s shitty behavior. I’m glad she slapped him. At least the sex was good? 😐

Calliope - Seemed to be a decent but not great marriage for most of it. Ended messily. Fortunately it was the normal kind of messy divorce and not, you know, being thrown in hell. She’s the mother of what seems to be Dream’s only child, and disagreed with his parenting. Probably for good reason. No idea how a Muse/Endless union produced a mortal.

Killalla of the Glow - Dream’s oldest known relationship. They seemed to be pretty happy together, though Dream was waaaay more into her than she was into him. Shockingly, Dream wasn’t responsible for this relationship ending. In contrast to Dream’s other exes, her life after Dream was pretty good.

Alianora - While we don’t actually see why they broke up, I’m gonna go ahead and believe both Alianora and Desire when they say that it’s Dream’s fault. This woman was literally hand picked by Desire for Dream and saved Dream and the Dreaming, only for Dream to be a shitty boyfriend (husband?). At least she got a skerry and a dreamstone out of it. That’s kind of like alimony, right?

“That female on—what’s that pretty plane with all the twinkly lights? You know where I mean.” - Never shows up in the comics, but Desire says “what [Dream] put her through wasn’t pretty at all” and, yeah, that tracks.

Thessaly - Thank fucking god we didn’t have to see this relationship on page. Thessaly is a fascinating character but an awful person. They were apparently sickeningly in love, but Thessaly was smart enough to realize that the relationship was Definitely Hurtling Towards Something and bounced. The real victims here are the residents of the Dreaming. They had to put up with post break up Dream.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Nuala - Girl, you are so lucky Dream never returned your feelings. You dodged a bullet. There is no way that relationship would have ended in anything but disaster.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #nada #thessaly the witch #alianora #killalla of the glow #nuala #calliope #nuala is on this list because I love her #in conclusion:#if your relationships are so bad that literal laws are passed to mitigate the damage #maybe you should look inside yourself #tldr dream’s a bad boyfriend avoid at all costs #no wonder desire doesn’t like dream

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ladymelisande · 2 years

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Unpopular opinion but the only lover who is valid on staying mad at Dream is Nada. The other ones... Eh...

Killala: Cheated on him. Not Dream's fault.

Alianora. They broke up, she said she wanted to leave, he grave her a little island in the Dreaming. They didn't seem to be in bad terms after that.

Nada: Yeah, that was fucked up and horrible, no excuse on that.

Calliope: They broke up after the whole business with their son and why won't Dream use the mighty power of Nepotism to make his daughter-in-law alive again. Because fuck any other girl that díed young, I guess. This one is funny to me because she describes their last fight as her saying she hated him but somehow she was surprised that he became cold and that he cut her from his life (girl, what did you expect?). Even when they didn't live together in the first place.

Titania: She is married, they had an affair, seemed to be in good terms with each other and she still cares for him.

Thessaly: Ho boy, this was such a mess. Girly made it like... 'Okay, I love him. No wait, I don't. I want to leave. What you mean `as you will'?! Why don't you ask me to stay?!' Girl, he is not gonna force you to stay, why are you mad?

To me Nada reads like an extreme case and all the others are more like... Normal break ups of people that are not suited for each other? I don't know. I fail to see the whole one-sided course of fault that is normally despicted in the fandom.

#dream of the endless #killala of the glow #calliope #alianora #thessaly #titania #nada #you can throw the chairs at me I'm totally ready

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nobody-is-evil · 1 year

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Dream Receives a Letter

Summary: Instead of my name, I leave you my phone number. You should know that I am a guy. Please only call if you would date a guy as seriously as you have dated girls.

Your Nervous Admirer,

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

Dream reread the words over and over again. Would he? He didn’t know.

Written for the Dreamling Nation Valentine’s Week. This is will be reblogged with the link to this fic on ao3.

Warning for unhealthy attitude towards food from the paragraph starting with “Dream had gotten his breakfast” to the one starting with “Dream stayed safe in his room”.

February. Valentine’s season.

In past years, Hob often had a date for Valentine’s Day. They’d never been anything but childish flings, though. Somehow, he insulted his partner, or they insulted him, and the two of them broke it off soon after—sometimes on Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t remember most of their names.

Sophomore year, Hob had come very, very close to having a partner for Valentine’s Day—a long-term one, at that! But Eleanor moved away in early February, and by then they’d already broken up after she decided she wouldn’t be able to keep up their relationship long-distance.

He spent the day that year sadly tending to Robyn, the oak sapling they’d planted in Hob’s yard. Eleanor had been so excited to watch him grow...

Junior year was different. Last year, the pain of the hellhole he escaped (the less said about it, the better) was still fresh, even months later. Not exactly the best frame of mind to be dating.

Not that that was common knowledge—most people would’ve described him as a happy, optimistic golden retriever. Only one person had known differently: The first person to show him kindness after the hellhole and his best friend, Dream.

Who Hob might’ve, sort of, kind of had a massive crush on at the time. And who might’ve, sort of, kind of gotten a girlfriend soon after Hob and Dream became friends.

Hob still didn’t understand why Dream had been so infatuated with his girlfriend. Thessaly was—how to put this—more disinterested in men than Hob thought possible. She was a 7 on the Kinsey Scale. Had to be, in order to miss how gorgeous Dream was. How neither of them had seen it, Hob didn’t know. But then, Dream had always had bad luck with relationships.

6 girlfriends, and not a single relationship had ended without massively upsetting Dream. Hob couldn’t see the sense in most of them—who would leave Dream for another guy? Who could break up with him over an accident, no matter how tragic? Who could date him just to sleep with him? Who could fall out of love with him? Who could date him without realizing she was a lesbian?

(Answers, in order: Killala, Calliope, Titania, Alianora, and Thessaly.)

(Nada...was different. But Dream’d changed since then. He wouldn’t do that again.)

Okay, so maybe Hob thought about Dream’s past relationships a lot. It was only natural to be upset on Dream’s behalf. If Dream was Hob’s boyfriend—

Nope, nope, nope, he couldn’t think like that. Dream was straight.

Well.

The thing was, all he had to go off of for that was that Dream had just never told him otherwise. That didn’t actually mean Dream for sure didn’t like men.

But Hob didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship. It was a little selfish—after he’d had to leave all his friends behind at his old school, the only true friend he’d been able to make at this school was Dream.

It was also out of concern for Dream. The last time they’d seriously fought had been the worst. When Dream refused to speak to Hob, well, that didn’t mean Hob had stopped caring about him, and it had been easy to tell—to him, anyway—that it was eating at Dream. If calling them friends had gotten that reaction, what would Hob confessing his love do?

No. Just like last year, Hob couldn’t do anything to show Dream that Hob was in love with him.

And that was final.

No way around it.

Period.

...

But as the holiday drew closer and closer, as the dating talk became inescapable, Hob found that he couldn’t stop thinking of ways he could do it while avoiding most, if not all of the consequences he was afraid of.

So here he was, writing a letter that he didn’t plan on signing.

Handwriting a letter to his best friend that he wanted to be anonymous seemed like a bad idea at first glance, but not when Hob’s usual handwriting was rushed. If he took his time and slowly wrote every letter in every word so they were all nice and neat, it looked like it was written by a completely different person.

He did have to start over several times whenever he wanted to erase something. Would using an eraser change Dream’s answer, maybe not, but Hob had to start over anyway.

Most of it ended up being him waxing poetic about Dream. Even if Hob was able to confess to Dream without the poetry, it could only help to stroke Dream’s ego—especially in places it wasn’t usually stroked.

...

Moving on.

The last sentence contained Hob’s instructions for getting in contact with him. It may have also seemed silly for an anonymous letter, but in his opinion, it was sillier to send it without. If he got an anonymous love letter that asked him if he could love the author, well, he wouldn’t know. For all he knew, they could be catfishing him.

So in lieu of a name, Dream would be getting Hob’s phone number. Considering he already had this info, Hob had downloaded an app that gave him a different one, one with the area code of the town he now lived in rather than the one from when he got his phone. Dream would see a number that could be most of his classmates—but not Hob.

Of course, just leaving the number would still defeat the purpose. Dream would call, he would hear Hob’s voice, and Hob still wouldn’t know if Dream even liked men. Even if he asked Dream to text instead, they were still close enough that he couldn’t discount Dream figuring out it was him too quickly. No, there had to be a condition on it. He finished the letter.

Instead of my name, I leave you my phone number. You should know that I am a guy. Please only call if you would date a guy as seriously as you have dated girls.

Your Nervous Admirer,

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX

There was a chance Dream would call anyway. He was curious like that. But more often than not, Dream followed instructions just because they were given, as long as they weren’t from one of his parents or a person he similarly disliked.

That didn’t always mean he would do as intended, though. Dream’s interpretation skills sometimes hit the mark and sometimes missed. Hob was as clear as he dared without using language Dream might not be familiar with.

This was all probably for nothing. Most likely, Dream would get to the part where his admirer was a man and discard it all on the basis of being 100% straight. He’d had six girlfriends before he was 18 that all left him devastated when they ended. He’d never said a word about being anything but straight even after Hob came out to him. He had to have thought about it. Dream had clearly just...decided he was straight, or to never tell anyone he wasn’t. He wouldn’t admit to liking men by answering a random love letter.

Hob stared at the completed letter.

No, that was the devil talking. He’d written the thing, and he was going to send it, for a reason—for he had a chance, and he wouldn’t stop being able to think about it if he didn’t take that chance.

—Line Break—

Dream woke suddenly, without knowing why.

Then he heard the excited squealing.

He rolled over and pressed the pillow against his ears, futilely. Ugh. Why was Desire so enthusiastic about Valentine’s Day when they weren’t even interested in romance?

Unfortunately, he knew the answer to that question: They were nosy, and this holiday was a great way to figure out what people wanted.

He let out a sigh, his morning already ruined, and got up for school.

Making himself presentable wasn’t high on his list of priorities. He tended to sleep in the clothes he planned to wear the next day, rather than change in the morning. He didn’t see the point in brushing his hair when it looked good as it was. As long as he wore deodorant and made sure his clothes were still reasonably clean, Dream thought he was decent enough to be seen in public (considering girls would inevitably find him attractive and guys would inevitably envy him anyway) and therefore decent enough to attend Family Breakfast.

Sometimes, he wished he could take longer so he could get to breakfast after his siblings had already left. It would make everyone happier...except Death. Death would only have to pout at him, and he’d go back to coming to breakfast on time the next day. It had happened before.

Dream had gotten his breakfast (coffee cake and a glass of chocolate milk, perfect for his sweet tooth) and sat down before he realized how quiet it was.

...why were all of his siblings staring at him?

“Is that food on your plate?” Desire asked. At Dream’s bewildered nod, they continued, “What have you done with our Dream? He would never eat breakfast without prodding.”

While Dream kept his face perfectly stony, he was an on-fire puddle of embarrassment. Further humiliation came from the fact that Death didn’t immediately step in—she was thinking the same thing!

He considered his words carefully, as always, before speaking: “Most days, I have no need for food beyond the basic necessities. Today, I do.” The former part was the reason he gave every day. Proof, not that he needed any more of it, that none of his siblings actually listened when he spoke. Why he bothered, he...well.

Now Death interjected to scold him, “Dream, you can’t just have chocolate from your valentines all day. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I’m sure it won’t just be chocolate,” he acknowledged. He stood up with most of his meal unconsumed, “If you’ll excuse me,” without waiting to actually be excused.

He loudly scraped his meal in the trash and poured his drink down the drain. Or, at least, he hoped they thought he did (in reality he scarfed it down while he was out of their lines of sight, only leaving enough to provide the necessary noises). Maybe next time, Death would think twice about taking Desire’s side on his eating habits.

Dream stayed safe in his room until it was time for the next part of his awful morning: his parents’ call.

Even though they were out of the country, they always called on Valentine’s Day. Night and Time Endless only had one purpose in making this call. Not to make sure their kids were safe and happy, not to wish them a good day, not to tell them they’d be home from their trip soon.

No, his parents only wanted to ensure none of their kids had dates for Valentine’s Day.

Considering not a single one of his siblings had ever shown the least bit of interest in romance, let alone had a partner, it might as well have been a personal attack on Dream. It had been the last two years, when he’d been with Thessaly and before that, Calliope.

He informed them, “No, mother. I have not had a girlfriend since I broke up with Thessaly in August.”

“Good.” They hung up.

They wouldn’t have done anything drastic if he had a girlfriend—that would require a level of care he didn’t think they were capable of—but they would tell Destiny to pester him every day about why the rule existed: Because most relationships end in tragedy.

It was galling, but internally, he could admit that he was starting to think they were right. This was the longest he’d gone without a girlfriend in a while. Not for lack of contenders—the girls at his school were always trying to bag him, an Endless. No, he just didn’t see the point in dating a girl who held only that shallow interest in him. Not one of them could actually care about him.

Ugh. Why was he letting his parents further sink his mood? He had enough things to be upset about without making himself more upset because of a topic he’d already been thinking about for months.

Since he, Desire, Despair, and Delirium were all heading to the same place, it was better that they all take the same vehicle (logic that Dream despised) especially considering neither of his younger sisters could drive and Desire was perpetually on thin ice.

On good days, Death would drive them. However, as already established, today was not a good day. So Dream had to drive.

By the time he was finally able to part ways from his siblings and go to his locker, it felt like his mood was already at its lowest, and he hadn’t even had to deal with anything directly school-related yet.

At least his all-black attire and dour manner meant people made a wide berth around him. Dream reached his locker without any further trouble. He inputted his locker combination and was about to open it when he stopped.

His brain was telling him something was wrong—something undesirable would happen if he opened it. After giving his subconscious a moment to explain itself to his conscious self, he understood. In past years, he’d had a lot of valentines slipped into his locker, and that was while he had a girlfriend. There was sure to be a mountain of them this time, and some would fly out if he wasn’t careful.

Only now did he open it. As expected, letters threatened to scatter everywhere, how tiresome, but he didn’t let a single one slip away. He stacked them and set them to the side to deal with later—

Holy shit.

Despite himself, Dream felt a grin spread across his face. (He fought it down, of course—it wouldn’t do for the school’s gossip mill, of which he was unfortunately considered a celebrity, to see him and come up with any crazy ideas, like him having a secret girlfriend. If that made its way to Delirium, for example, she would tell the family and he’d never hear the end of it.)

Some girl had left a giant box of his favorite chocolates in his locker, far too big to have been slid through the slots. No, she knew his locker combination. As the only other person who should’ve been able to say that was Hob, and Hob would’ve just given them to him in person, that meant she broke in.

But how could he be mad, when she had such a good reason to?

Dream popped the lid off and was further surprised by a pristine white folded paper sitting on top of the chocolates. He hadn’t planned on reading any of the valentines, but this one earned it. While treating himself to one of the gifted sweets, he opened it and looked for a name at the bottom.

Hmm. No name, only a phone number. He flipped it over, scanned the (very neat) handwriting, but the only name he could find was his own. Who would send a love letter signed with a phone number? Intrigued, Dream actually read it now, starting from the greeting.

If he could live solely off of compliments, the letter would be enough to sustain him for likely hundreds of years. It was not just the sheer amount, nor the degree of flattery, but the kind—each one was actually characteristics he prided himself on, not just how others saw him.

His art was highly skilled and full of complex meanings. His hair and clothes were cool and did make him hotter, rather than hide it like so many other girls had bemoaned. He did put a lot of effort into his schoolwork, even though loathed doing most of it at all.

The author didn’t only heap praise on him. Interspersed were declarations of love. Dream had mixed feelings about them—he enjoyed them, but he wished she hadn’t sat on it for so long, if the amount of time she’d apparently harbored these feelings was to be believed.

He read to the end of the letter and froze. His...nervous admirer...was a guy?

Of course Dream knew his school had a not insignificant queer population, but he’d never had cause to think about it before. No guy had ever shown any interest in him before.

In addition to the author being a guy, he asked that Dream only use the phone number if he would date a guy.

Which, again, not something he’d ever had to consider before. Dream reread the words over and over again. Would he? He didn’t know.

At the minute warning bell, he quickly gathered his materials for his first class, leaving the chocolates and the letter behind, but not the thoughts they had caused.

What qualities were consistent with someone willing to date a guy? Well, probably the same qualities that made him willing to date a girl. She was interesting, she was hot, and she was willing to date him. Soon enough, Dream found that he cared about her, that his every waking moment was consumed by thoughts about her.

It was the first condition that no girl had met within the last several months. His heart had closed off. It had higher standards.

So someone who liked guys would find guys interesting and hot. Well, he was intrigued by the author of the letter, at least. Dream hadn’t found a guy attractive before, but then, it had never been an option before. He’d need a large sample size—after all, it wasn’t like he found every girl attractive.

He would take the rest of the school day, and if he didn’t find any of his male classmates hot before school ended, he probably didn’t like guys.

—Line Break—

By the time the passing period prior to lunch had started, Dream had found that the fact that he recognized people was interfering with the experiment, as he was dismissing guys he disliked straightaway.

Did he do the obvious thing, to change his sample from his classmates to pictures of men on Google or something? No, that took too much work. It was much faster to simply think flexibly and stop recognizing people. With just a little bit of concentration, the hallways became filled solely with strangers.

Hmm. Still hadn’t found any attractive guys at this school.

A flash of motion caught his eye. Dream’s eyes searched for it on instinct and landed on—

A hot guy. His search was over.

Now all he had to do was stop staring (and probably freaking the guy out, considering his stare had often been described as intimidating.) Dream blinked, letting his brain go back to its regularly scheduled programming.

Oh. That was. Hob. That he’d been staring at.

Naturally, Hob seemed concerned by his behavior. “Dream, are you okay?” By the way he asked, Dream could tell that this wasn’t the first time he’d done so.

“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.” There, that was vague enough.

“Like what? Got a lot of valentines?” Hob teased as they found their way outside and to a quiet place.

The pieces fell together. Dream narrowed his eyes. Hadn’t he noted earlier that other than him, only Hob had access to his locker? And, as a guy who liked guys himself, Hob wouldn’t be opposed to other guys who did. “I found a large box of sweets in my locker this morning. Did you give the combination to someone or something?”

“Ah, yeah.” Hob looked down in embarrassment. “I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering what the gift was.”

Dream leaned in, unable to look away. “So you know who it’s from?”

He laughed, “I do, but I can’t tell you.”

No, Hob had principles. It would be useless to try to get him to break a promise like this. Instead, Dream tried to get other important information from him. “Is he attractive?”

“Umm...” Hob looked at him like a deer in the headlights. “I don’t know if you would think so or not, Dream.”

Ugh. As much as Dream wanted to know the answer, he didn’t want to make Hob uncomfortable. “I suppose I’ll just have to call him.” After all, he found at least one guy attractive, so there was possibility enough that he could date a guy.

He got his phone out and dialed the number he’d memorized without even trying, just from how much he’d stared at the letter. (Dream glanced up at Hob once, but he was laser-focused on Dream’s phone.) After the last number, he hit the green call button.

Hob’s phone rang.

That...that...

Neither of them said anything as Hob got his phone out and accepted the call. Dream’s call connected when he did.

“Hey.” Hob’s voice came out of two speakers.

Dream ended the call with shaky hands. He was glad he was sitting down, because the revelation left him light-headed. “You...”

He must’ve sounded angry, because Hob’s next words came out in a rush, “Look, I know I’m probably not—”

“The letter-those were your words?” he had to confirm. “You feel that way about me?”

Hob stared at him with a familiar look that it now occurred to Dream was adoration. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“I...”

A lot of things were occurring to him, actually.

Hob was his best friend and most trusted confidant. Hob knew things about him nobody else did.

Spending time with him wasn’t exhausting like it was with other people—Dream had, on several occasions, initiated a hangout with him because he was thinking about Hob, and Hob never brushed him off.

Hob never raised his voice at Dream or called him weird, either, their first meeting notwithstanding. Hob listened to Dream’s advice.

Hob was always kind to him, even when Dream’s grief was hitting him hard or he was resistant to being called friends or he told him he began their relationship with bad intentions.

He held as much love for Hob as he did for Lucienne or Jessamy, except a distinctly different kind of love.

“I believe...I feel the same.”

“You do?” Hob breathed a sigh of relief. “I’d hoped so, but to hear you say as much...!”

The smile that Hob gave him was priceless. Dream would do anything to keep that smile on his face for the rest of eternity.

“We’re dating, then,” Hob said.

“Yes.” Just saying so set Dream’s heart aflutter.

“Then, maybe, sometime—” They were sitting close enough for Dream to tell that Hob’s gaze was drifting down to his lips. Hob noticed him noticing, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t really like kissing—”

“I’ve never kissed a guy before,” Dream countered as he leaned in.

They met in a chaste kiss. It didn’t take long for Dream to decide he was right—kissing a guy was different. The feeling of stubble against his chin was much better than his past girlfriends had made it seem. That couldn’t just be it, though. He’d never been this...giddy...to kiss his partner before. Perhaps it was something intrinsic to Hob.

Dream broke the kiss, and was treated to Hob smiling at him again.

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thenightling · 3 years

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The Sandman: A Game of you (A summary of the plot from someone who actually read the thing...)

I have seen a lot of misconceptions floating around Tumblr about the plot of The Sandman: A Game of You, mostly thanks to an old Mary Sue article that seemed to deliberately take the plot out of context to make it look transphobic. Some people on Tumblr have even said “I love Sandman but I won’t read A Game of you because I heard about what’s in it.” Neil Gaiman, himself, even received an ask here on Tumblr about the story’s “problematic” content because the person who wrote the ask legitimately thought the story said trans women cannot use magick in The Sandman universe. I have even seen transphobes claim Neil Gaiman is on their side for this reason.

According to Neil Gaiman he wrote A Game of you while being consulted by trans friends, one in particular, who heavily became the basis for the character Wanda.

The first version of The Dreaming (Sandman spin-off comics) and The House of Mystery Volume 2 (Also a Sandman spin-off) were written by Caitlin R. Kiernan. (a transwoman). That’s right. Neil Gaiman left The Sandman franchise in the care of a transwoman.

Now, let’s begin...

______________________________

The Sandman: A game of you (summary)

First we need to go backward into The Sandman. The main character of The Sandman is Morpheus AKA Dream of The Endless. The Endless are a family of anthropomorphic personifications. That means they are living embodiments of certain concepts. For example Morpheus, also known as Dream has an older sister who is Death. She’s essentially the Grim Reaper.

Note: Death is older than Dream (Morpheus) but looks younger by at least a decade. The family consists of Destiny, Death, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and little Delirium (She used to be Delight but she went mad). Most of Sandman is the story of Morpheus and what happens to him. The place to begin is Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes.

The first story to feature Hazel and Foxglove (though Foxglove’s other name, Donna, is given much earlier in the series) is The Sandman: A Game of You. Donna AKA Foxglove had been in an abusive relationship with a girl named Judy. After their breakup Judy had been murdered (issue 6 of The Sandman, within Preludes and Nocturnes, the issue is called 24 Hour Diner).

Donna took the name Foxglove as a stage name as she wants to be a rock musician. She falls in love with Hazel. The two are housemates with Wanda (a transwoman who ran away from a very transphobic hillbilly family), Barbie (a pretty and slightly eccentric makeup artist and dreamer trying to rebuild her life after a failed romantic relationship with a man named… I kid you not, Ken), and Larissa, also known as Thessaly, a nerdy looking and stand-offish woman who turns out to be a powerful and slightly-homicidal witch from ancient Greece. There’s also an old man named George who turns out to actually be a Nightmare spy for a creature called the Cuckoo (more on that later.)

I’ll give the plot of The Sandman: A game of you first and then tell you the full plot of Death: Time of your Life. The two connect.

In The Sandman: A game of you we learn that Barbie had a Labyrinth-esue fantasy world (Think of Jim Henson’s The Labyrinth) that she would escape to and lucid dream of all through her childhood and early adulthood but she had not been there in a long time. We (readers) met Barbie earlier in The Sandman: The doll’s house when she had been dating Ken and in that story we see the first glimpse of Barbie’s fantasy world.

Now her childhood anthropomorphic animal friends miss her and worry about her and were terrified of the activities of The Cuckoo (The main “bad guy” of her fantasy world). One of the creatures (who greatly resembles Ludo from Labyrinth but is articulate) enters the real world where he is unfortunately killed. He tried to warn Barbie of the bad things happening in her fantasy land.

Things start to get weirder. That night everyone has anxiety based nightmares. It turns out Hazel is pregnant from a one night stand that she regretted and didn’t know how to tell Foxglove so this is the basis for her nightmare. Foxglove has nightmares about her abusive and deceased ex, Judy. Wanda is having nightmares about transphobia. She has not medically transitioned and she worries that others feel she does not count as a woman unless she has the surgery. She’s actually terrified of surgery and affirms herself in the dream that even without the surgery she IS a woman.

After everyone has terrible anxiety dreams and most confront their nightmares they wake up to find things are strange in their home. First Hazel confesses her indiscretion to Foxglove. Foxglove forgives her and they decide to raise the baby together.

Larissa finds George, realizing he was the cause of the nightmares, and kills him. She uses his remains to find out what is really going on.

Barbie, however, will not wake up. She has been sucked back into her Labyrinth-esque fantasy.

The friends, finding out that Larissa is really an ancient and powerful witch known as Thessaly, decide to go on a rescue mission into the realm of dreams (known as The Dreaming) to save Barbie.

Thessaly gets revealed as being a TERF (this was written in the 90s so the term didn’t exist yet), claiming her magick will not work for Wanda since she’s not a “real woman” and besides, someone needs to stay behind to protect Barbie’s body.

Thessaly opens a way by the moon’s magick to get herself, Hazel, and Foxglove into Barbie’s fantasy world.

While that’s going on a storm is unleashed by Thessaly’s use of magick. The storm causes heavy winds and trees to uproot. Wanda sees a homeless old woman in trouble. It’s a woman who had previously been nasty to her. Wanda saves her life but dies in the process.

In Barbie’s dream the heroes find a magical gemstone called the Porpentine (actually a rose quartz dreamstone, a magical stone that Dream AKA Morpheus uses as a conduit for his power. His main one, for a long time, was a ruby. Think of it like a magick wand). They destroy the porpentine, which is actually what the cuckoo wanted.

The Cuckoo had accidentally gotten trapped in Barbie’s dream many years before and though they feed on imagination she wanted her freedom. The destruction of the dreamstone alerts Morpheus (Dream) who comes to see that the skerry (The island that was Baribe’s fantasy world) is no longer needed.

The island had actually been created many centuries before for a former lover of Morpheus’ known as Alianora. Alianora could not return to her old life but wanted a place of her own when they broke up so Morpheus had given her the island. The dreamstone powered its magick. The island would exist so long as the dreamstone did. For many centuries after Alianora passed away the island had been the plaything of many young woman dreamers.

Morpheus absorbs the island and all its characters back into himself. And has a brief private conversation with Alianora’s ghost, comforting her by assuring her that her island had been home to many dreamers after her.

Morpheus allows the Cuckoo to fly away (which is all she really wanted), but Thessaly had wanted to kill her for all the trouble she had caused them. Morpheus prevents this.

Morpheus tells Foxglove, Hazel, and Thessaly that they should not have physically entered The Dreaming. That this is against nature. Barbie may wakeup but the rest are trapped. However, he does owe Barbie a boon for destroying the dreamstone- giving the power back to him that had long since been stored away in the jewel. This is a bit of a con on Morpheus’ part, because he got her to ask that her friends be returned to the waking world as her boon. This was Morphesus’ sneaky way of getting out of being in debt to her.

One by one they are returned to the waking world. And Morpheus and Thessaly become lovers (but she later dumps him, saying he cares too much about mortals, which surprises him because he used to be a very cold, and aloof bastard and he doesn’t like facing that he’s changed.)

Barbie attends Wanda’s funeral but unfortunately it’s hosted by Wanda’s redneck family who keep misgendering her. Cut off Wanda’s hair, put her in a suit, and deadname her on her headstone. Barbie writes Wanda’s real name on the headstone in lipstick.

Barbie also has a very strange dream where she sees Wanda with the delicate, feminine, features she had always wanted but was too scared to get the surgery to have (bone structure related), and another girl she doesn’t recognize. This is Death.

Death waves to Barbie, thus assuring her that Wanda is happy and safe where she is going and that yes, Wanda was ALWAYS a woman. This was written in 1992 so this was a big deal. A lot of people here on Tumblr mistake the story as transphobic and legitimately believe it was saying magick won’t work for a transwoman. No. This scene was to prove Thessaly and Wanda’s parents wrong about that and to show cis het readers that trans women ARE women right down in their soul.

_______________________________

Death: The High cost of Living.

In Death The High cost of living we learn that every so often Death takes human form as a means of self-humbling. She used to be very cold and mean until one day a soul she was collecting asked her how she would feel about it. So to remind herself of why she should show compassion she turns herself mortal for one day and lives as a human woman.

I won’t give the full plot of this story here but know that she attends a Foxglove concert and proclaims herself a fan.

__________________________________

Death: Time of your life.

Hazel had the baby and they named him Alvin. This was meant to be in honor of Wanda even though that was Wanda’s deadname and she had hated the name. They couldn’t figure out how to make a male equivalent of Wanda’s name so they just used her deadname. I don’t think this is a great idea, personally, but at least they tried to honor her memory.

By now Foxglove is a bit of a celebrity But she is stuck in the closet. It’s the mid-90s and her manager is worried that if she comes out as a lesbian it could ruin her career.

Foxglove thinks she’s falling out of love with Hazel because while on tour, she (Foxglove), has been sleeping around while on tour and knows she hasn’t been spending enough time with Hazel. She’s also getting burnt out. Being a celebrity is not all it’s cracked up to be and she misses being obscure.

It turns out baby Alvie (Alvin) had an accident and Hazel offered up herself within a year if Death would not take Alvin. Death apparently listened but she warned her, she had to take someone when the time comes.

When Foxglove learns what has happened she rushes home and then to The Sunless lands (the land of The Dead) to save Hazel. Her handler comes with her. When she learns the deal Hazel made with Death she’s ready to offer herself to save her, realizing she DOES still love Hazel after all. The handler, however, offers himself instead.

It’s HEAVILY implied that Death was actually going to take him all along and the rest was just a rouse to save Hazel and Foxglove’s relationship because she liked them, and wanted them to realize what was important. It also assured the handler a chance to die a hero, doing something noble and good, which he secretly wanted anyway.

Foxglove goes back to her pre-music career name of Donna and settles into a private life where she is openly with Hazel and their son. And they live happily Ever After.

I figured it was important someone who actually read the comics summarize it since so many people here on Tumblr mistake The Sandman: A Game of you as transphobic and some have even called Hazel and Foxglove AKA Donna homophobic simply because they both have had affairs and forgave each other for it and Donna’s previous relationship had been abusive. There was an article from The Mary Sue a few years ago that deliberately took things out of context to make the story of A Game of You seem problematic and too many people trusted that as being accurate.

Also I had been wanting to write out the summary for some time since there are Sandman fans now who out-right refuse to read the arc because they were told it has problematic content, and some that badly misunderstood what it was trying to say. i.e. legitimately thinking feminine magick wouldn’t work for poor Wanda when in reality the whole point of Wanda’s arc was to tell the reader that transwomen ARE women.

#The Sandman #Sandman #The Sandman: A Game of you #The Sandman A Game of you #A Game of you #Sandman: A Game of you #Sandman A Game of you

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therkalexander · 5 years

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The Good Counselor: Chapter 9

Book Three in the Hades and Persephone series. Seventy years have passed since Elysion was created, and Persephone's efforts to conceive a child with Hades have been in vain. But a secret rite on Samothrace might bend the Fates and give her all that they have dreamed of, or pave a path of untold suffering.

Chapter 9

He knew better than to speak with them before the first full moon of winter. He had only to recall his first visit to remind himself why. Even if a message from Olympus meant for Hades were urgent, he would always beg it off for at least a week.

Hermes sat in Charon’s boat, tapping his foot on the bracing, smoothing the golden feathers of his winged sandals, and trying to avoid eye contact with the dark cloaked shade of an old woman who sat opposite him.

“My husband sacrificed a ram to you,” she said suddenly.

Hermes started, then remembered that she hadn’t yet drunk from the Lethe. Though a shade, she wasn’t yet part of Asphodel. He could hear her. She was scowling at him. “What, to me?”

“He wanted to sell sheep across the water, to the Thracians. I told him not to go into business, but no… did Stavros listen to me? No!”

“What happened?”

“You don’t know?!”

“Uh…”

“The fool, I knew it! I told Stavros you wouldn’t listen to his prayers! ‘I know sheep, not trade, Agathe, but trust the gods , because I gave Hermes a whole ram , Agathe!’ Foolish pious man he was…”

“That’s enough,” Charon hissed.

The shade cowered and fell silent, but pursed her lips and glowered at Hermes until the boat scraped against the opposite shore.

“Welcome home,” Charon said to her and pointed his oar beyond the ghostly reeds at the poplar shaded stone pathway. “The Trivium is that way. Go to the spring beside it and wait. You are to be judged by Rhadamanthys.”

The woman gathered up her skirts and plodded along the path, disappearing from view. Charon pushed off and shook his head. Hermes shrugged. “What?”

“With all your infamous wiles and trickery,” the Boatman said, “could you have at least lied to her?”

“And tell her what?!”

“Nothing comes to you? There was a bad star, a storm of the ages, or the evil eye struck, or any one of the many Olympian excuses. Or even that yes , you’d listened, but no, there was nothing that could have been done.”

“There are too many offerings… how could I have known their circumstances?”

“ You guide the wayward dead back here. Speak to them and find out. Or lie vaguely, if you prefer. It comes to you easily enough.”

Hermes scowled and slouched back, crossing his legs. The palace gates came into view at the end of a short path bordered with tall stalks of asphodel. Charon stilled his boat and Hermes debated whether or not to have the last word.

“What is your purpose here, Psychopompos?”

“Your King summoned me today. And since I was on the way, I also bear a message from our Queen to yours.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a good thing that Hera wants to befriend her. Good for everyone. Persephone is the only child of Zeus she’s ever been kind to, so can you please, please do your part to not ruin it?”

The Boatman didn’t reply.

“Not for me, but for her.” Hermes leapt into the air, thankful to be on the other side of the Styx. Ever since the fateful day he had appeared before Hades and Persephone at the command of Zeus to return her to Demeter, he had carefully abided by Persephone’s edict that he not cross the Styx except by Charon’s boat. It was ploddingly slow, made worse by the shades that often made the journey alongside him, and worse still by the unpredictability of Charon’s temperament— he never knew whether Charon would be gratingly dour, or spend the entire trip needling him.

The air was dank and chill, but he could feel the spray from the falls beside the palace on his face and it was refreshing after the stifling stillness of the Styx. He raced upward, torchlight guiding him to the throne room. He could hear Persephone’s voice inside.

“…on the full moon exactly between the first of Spring and the Solstice.”

“The seeds have already burst and reached into the soil by that season. Petals have fallen and the fruits have begun to pull on the branch. The weave of this is strange—”

Hecate whipped around as Hermes alighted on the balcony. He stumbled back.

“Oh it’s… you… It’s almost the— I suppose it’s the last quarter moon, isn’t it?”

Persephone made her way back to her throne and sat down, folding her hands in her lap as Hecate shuffled closer to the Messenger, toying with him.

She extended a bony finger. “The long-toothed wolf makes the pup yelp, eh?”

“There are old gods above, too. But they’re ageless, and, well, you are too, but… I normally see you when you’re…”

“When I look to have more pounce than prowl?”

“Well, yes.”

“Cross the still waters more, whelp, and the boatman’s call might lead you to a wiser world. But if the withered wolf makes your tail tuck away, I mark that the pawns of Olympus have no heart for the splendor and shades of Chthonia.”

Persephone sat up. “What brings you here, Hermes?”

Hecate slid into the shadows, the crows feet around her eyes deepening as Hermes picked at a fingernail. He bowed to one knee and held a scroll aloft. “A letter. From the Queen of Heaven.”

Persephone stood and extended her hand. Hermes stepped onto the dias and handed her the papyrus, the seal marked with the eye of a peacock feather. She broke it and started unrolling the scroll, then stopped. Hermes stood waiting. “My husband summoned you, no? He’s below, in the courtyard.”

Hermes shifted. “Oh. Yes.”

No wayward gossip for you, Persephone thought. When Hermes was out of sight she walked to the desk and unfurled the missive.

Hecate hobbled closer. “Queen of Heaven, says the nipper at heels. A crown of twigs that lays claim to the forest of the cosmos…”

“Likely not self applied.”

“We can hope that the crow but wears the peacock’s feathers. What says the consort of the sky god?”

Persephone scanned the words. They weren’t in Greek, or Theoi, but in the hieroglyphs of far off Aegyptus. She wrinkled her brow. What reason did Hera have to encrypt a letter? Persephone had only learned that language a quarter century ago, and had yet to master the spoken tongue.

My dear sister Queen,

I hope this finds you well. Your absence has produced a dreadful series of storms that has blanketed Thessaly in a lovely frost, but lost several ships near Crete, or so Poseidon tells me.

No matter. I look forward to your return and what we spoke of before your departure. Every passing day with my husband and his infernal sons convinces me that your ways below the earth should be reflected above. I don’t want to speak of this on Olympus. There are too many eyes and ears here. Perhaps in your realm, if you would be so kind. I know you have much faith in your people.

I cannot leave now. There are matters I need to see through. And you are often busy in the Spring, but perhaps Summer might be a better season for us to visit Elysion together.

Please write soon.

All regards,

“The serpent asks the sparrow to nest on the ground,” Hecate rasped.

“Why do you say that?”

“She knows well that the Pact of the Pomegranate binds you to the fields when the sun soars highest, yet asks you to walk with her into these sunless halls while the fruits grow above.”

“I’m sure it’s completely innocent. When I spoke of the Agreement with her and Amphitrite, it seemed she hardly knew anything about it.”

Hecate thinned her lips. “The serpent smiling through a cloak of blue feathers is still a serpent.”

“I don’t trust her either, but she is trying to befriend me, and the last thing we need is to make an enemy of her. Besides,” Persephone said, reaching for a stylus. “If she is sincere, we could affect meaningful change in the world above. Wouldn’t you prefer that to mortal women being treated as little more than chattel, or your followers being stoned or exiled?”

Hecate clenched her jaw.

“She is clearly scared and alone.” Persephone held up the scroll.

“Serpent or worm, wolf or lapdog— be certain you know which beast you see. The Queen wore a thousand masks before you first saw your own reflection.”

“I’ll be cautious. But I’m not going to raise a wall between her and me.” She rolled the scroll until Hera’s words disappeared. She whittled the end of her papyrus reed to a sharp point and dipped it in the ink.

“What words will you send to the mountaintop?”

“The truth. That I’ve never returned to Chthonia in the spring or summer, in accordance with the Pomegranate Agreement, and I don’t ever intend to do so.”

***

“Hold,” Aidoneus said in the dream tribesman’s language. He stepped back and dug the pommel of his sword into his palm to stretch his tendons and relax his grip. As he clenched and unclenched his fingers around it, Aidon watched the deep wound on his forearm knit back together then disappear entirely.

Icelos Phobetor, chieftain of the Oneiroi, waited. His shape drifted from shimmer to shadow as he lowered his dagger and spear.

Aidon wiped the sweat off his brow. “You may enter, Psychopompos.”

Hermes dropped to a knee knelt at the entrance to the courtyard. When he stood, he looked up at Aidon, but his eyes were drawn to Icelos. Twice as tall as him, the shifting mass kept a roughly human figure, massive weapons suspended within hazy fists, cloudy muscles rippling. The color drained from Hermes’s face. “What… who…”

“He doesn’t speak Theoi. Don’t bother,” Aidoneus said, replacing his helm.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing.”

“What for?!”

Aidoneus glowered at him through the eye slits. “Chthonia stands between your world as its former masters. Should the Titans ever escape Tartarus, I need to be ready. Stay where you are, Hermes.” He looked up at Icelos and spoke in the hollow tongue of the dreamworld. “Last time. Advance.”

Hermes winced, first at the unfamiliar words, then the clash of bronze. “It’s been forty thousand years, Aidoneus—”

“And if you want another forty thousand,” he said, grasping the spear to pull Icelos toward him and thrusting harmlessly into his immaterial form with a riposte, “I cannot afford to rest on my laurels.”

Icelos jerked his spear back and Aidoneus dodged aside. The heavy spearhead slid by him, a hair's width from his shoulder, and struck the cobblestones with a clang. His helm vanished and swallowed the rest of his armored form, and he silently rolled backwards. Icelos lunged and hacked at the ground around him with his knife, hitting nothing but stone. Hades waited. He trod silently, then leapt forward. Arm cocked, he reappeared and cleaved Icelos’s spear in half with a hard blow, then stood. “That’s enough for today. Thank you for your time, friend.”

Icelos silently bowed and vanished, taking the broken spear with him.

He inspected the nicked edge of his sword, then sheathed it, leaning the scabbard against the wall. He’d hone it later. Aidon removed his helm and sent it away through the ether. Hermes was shifting from foot to foot, agitated since the first clash of bronze. He was always on edge whenever Aidon wore his armor. They’d taken away his wife for half of each year, and each year passed quietly. Did the Messenger still fear that he would make war on Olympus?

Let them worry on that , Aidoneus thought, so they don’t think they can take anything else. Still, he couldn’t tolerate Hermes’s fidgeting. His armor melted and rippled into the more familiar shape of his black tunic and himation as they walked toward the courtyard gate.

“Your wife sent me to see you here. I was willing to wait in the throne room.”

“Given that you read her missives earlier this year, I don’t blame her for dismissing you. I have a task for you,” he said. “Come with me.”

Aidoneus walked quickly toward the grotto and the pool beyond. “Wait outside.”

Aidoneus knew Hermes wouldn’t move an inch into the room until he was under the water. The Messenger had seen enough for one lifetime when he’d barged in on him and Persephone.

Aidon removed his sandals, his himation and tunic, then his loincloth, and left them in a crisply folded pile on the divan. He pulled his hair free of the torc and dove head first into the water. He swam to the bottom, coming to rest cross legged. The rush, the darkness, the utter silence of the water was welcoming. A respite. Aidoneus opened his eyes with only black stillness to greet him. It was warmer at the bottom and he let the heat seep into his flesh and bones. He’d begun sparring with Icelos early in the morning, and should have gone most of the day. He hadn’t expected Hermes so soon, and his request of the Messenger would not be an easy one. Aidoneus knew that just one misplaced word or distracted thought would beget a torrent of gossip among the gods, and cause him and Persephone, and likely Demeter, endless problems. He rolled his neck, then slowly surfaced, his shoulders breaking the dark water. With a flick of his wrist, he lit the room, the torches illuminating the sapphire and diamond inlaid ceiling above. “You may enter.”

Hermes poked his head in the door and scanned the dim room, empty but for Aidoneus chest deep in dark water. He waited for Hermes to take stock of the room, then spoke.

“Who on Olympus would have a silver lyre?”

Hermes raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It is a gift for a mortal.” The boy’s eyes widened and Aidon could see the wheels turning in his head. “It is not so grand a favor, Hermes. I allowed a mortal to use my own helm once.”

“Yes, but the Stygian nymphs were the ones who actually handed it to Perseus.”

Hades rolled his eyes, despite himself. “Of course they did. What living mortal in their right mind would cross the Styx, enter this palace, and meet face to face with the Lord of the Underworld to ask of him a favor?” Aidon slowed his tread under the water until only his head bobbed above the surface. Warm water crept up his neck, soothing him. “It’s beside the point. And before you ask, my reasons for this are my own.”

“I didn’t ask. I know you better than that.”

“You created the first lyre, no?”

“I did. But I traded it almost as soon as I made it.”

“For what?”

“A herd of cattle.”

Aidoneus stared at him, water dripping down his scalp.

“It was a joke. It’s a long story.”

“There must be more than one silver lyre on Olympus. Which of the Muses would have one? Calliope? Erato?”

“They do, but not the kind you’re looking for. The only silver lyre is Apollo’s.”

He exhaled and disappeared under the surface for a long moment then came back up. “Of all the gods to which you could have given it…”

“He doesn’t use that particular one often, but he does treasure it above all others. If I told you what Euterpe had to do just so she could touch—”

“I don’t want to know,” he said. “Turn, would you?”

Hermes complied, facing the wall. “Who is the lyre for?”

Aidoneus hoisted himself up out of the water and shook out his hair, then stood and wrapped his himation around his waist. “A hymnist named Orpheus, who lives on Samo—”

“Him?!” Hermes spun back around. “The one you said has been putting the gold scrolls in the mouths of the dead?”

“The same,” he answered, throwing the long end of the dark cloth loosely over his shoulder, careless of how it lay. It wouldn’t be on for long. Persephone was meeting him upstairs after this business was over.

“And here I’d guessed you’d ask Zeus for his life for that. Not grant him a gift!” Hermes rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek. “Wait; isn’t he Apollo’s son ?”

“He is.”

Hermes laughed. “My lord, forgive me, but I thought you had an actual task for me. ‘Excuse me, Apollo, I need to borrow that magical lyre of yours and give it to your musically and poetically gifted son who composes hymns about you . You can have it back in thirty years or so when he’s dead.’ That is what you want?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you can’t tell me wh—”

“No,” he said firmly. “All I need is discretion. Especially if you are going to Apollo. I don’t want him to know that it was at my behest.”

“He takes no issue with you.”

“You told me yourself that he is still… resentful… of how Aphrodite publicly humiliated him on Persephone’s behalf. It’s doubtful he would forgive that any time soon.”

Hermes nodded. “If anything he detests Aphrodite for it, not Persephone. Aphrodite and I— well, he has no quarrel with me, you know, and she and I… are…”

Aidon closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his fingertips. His voice dipped in register. “Is that why Ares has been making an absolute mess of Argolis for the past month?”

Hermes winced. “Possibly?”

“Your affair with her has created a season of headaches for us down here. It’s not just soldiers we’ve received. The city was ransacked. Women, Hermes. Children .”

“Take it up with Ares. I didn’t tell him to start a war.”

He sat down on the divan. It was always someone else’s fault with the Olympians. Any time he had asked after the causes of mortal suffering he’d been met with a chain of pointing fingers. It wasn’t even worth it to lecture the boy.

“It won’t be difficult, I promise. Apollo is my friend.”

“Just make sure.”

The Messenger paused for a moment and tilted his head, suspicious. “You’ve never, and I mean never engaged in intrigue, my lord. Why this?”

He tilted his head up and stared Hermes in the eye. “It has nothing to do with Olympus. I swear that to you on the Styx, Hermes. It concerns our own matters in Chthonia, only. And you’ll know the answer soon enough, if our efforts are successful.”

“Our?”

Damnation! Aidon could have kicked himself. The crack in the levy was already there. Best repair it before Hermes made any suppositions. “I want my wife’s name kept out of this, Psychopompos.”

Hermes stared at him, and Aidon knew that he was trying to divine the reason. The Trickster was wise with emotions. He could see around the slightest bluff, the quickest lie. Hermes relaxed. “Think nothing of it, Aidoneus. I’ll do it.”

“You have my gratitude.”

“Any messages for Zeus?”

“No. Likewise, I take it?”

Hermes shook his head.

“You may go. Charon will be along shortly.”

“Aidon… since I’m doing you this favor, is there any way you could reverse the decree and I could just… come and go the way I used to?”

“That decision is for the Queen alone,” Aidoneus said, smiling dryly.

Hermes opened his mouth to say something, then deflated. He bowed quickly and disappeared through the doorway.

“He will be as true as any whelp to a good master. ”

Aidoneus turned to see Hecate, standing on the surface of the pool, her aged reflection perfectly mirroring her in the still water.

“The pup’s yapping is not the sole storm in my mind. You are not only swimming against the river, you try to force it from its banks. These are not your ways. Or mine.”

“Have our ways given my wife a child?”

Hecate slowly walked toward the deck, the water undisturbed, then padded soundlessly across the limestone. “The words of the Fates—”

“Contradict themselves. You tell me that. They told me that Persephone and I would be as fruitful as the land of the dead, and they told herwe would have three children. So it is up to us, then. Just as it was our ordained actions that created Elysion.”

“The river forks ahead, Aidon. It spreads before the sea beyond. And too many tributaries flow into a whirlpool. Lives will be churned. Swallowed. I see agony. Suffering.”

“If I do not go to Samothrace, then we suffer the fate of never knowing if this was our one chance. I’m not about to let it slip through our fingers.”

“And so you sail with your queen. What of the other ships that sail alongside you?”

“It’s a fertility rite. Suppose the mortals have a poor harvest, as they did after our last efforts… Persephone and I can set it to rights before the first chill of winter. We would have months to do so.”

Hecate’s face fell. “The passing parts of seasons concern me little, Aidoneus. It is winters counted together as mere moments. It is the ripple that builds until it sends all ships to the deep.”

“I have faith in ananke, Hecate. I’m not abandoning what you taught me, or you, or what I believe. And the hymnist himself follows our ways. I feel, in my soul, that this is right. More so than anything we’ve tried before.”

She nodded, but her lips pursed as she looked up at him. “If this is your course, and if you sail with clear eyes and strong heart, who am I to stop you?”

* * * * * *

Sorry it was late today! So that's it! Thank you so much for reading the free preview of The Good Counselor. I’ll keep you up to date on the release, and any new developments with the show that will be based off my books, Pawns of Olympus.

#the good counselor #hades and persephone #hades x persephone #hecate #hermes #hera #persephone #hades #pawns of olympus #Rachel Alexander

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