One of the best things about Sandman fanfic is its variety, and this story is part of that. I don’t want to spoil it by telling you what it’s about. Just read it.
You’re walking in Baghdad. It’s not quite sunset: the sky is magnificent with orange and yellow streaks and looming black clouds, better than any painting of Armageddon.
Darkfic // Gen // General audiences
She is cleaning out the fish bowl when he calls. “Sister?” She should perhaps have expected it, but the truth is that she has not been able to think about Dream without pain, and so she has tried not to think about Dream at all. Unsuccessfully, of course.
Death and the new Dream and a bowl of goldfish.
Rose Walker in the Dreaming, post-Sandman.
And he’s kneeling before you, the white-haired man, with duct tape over his mouth and eyes so you can’t hear him when he screams when you stab him and stab him and stab him.
In which storms are brewing, wine is drunk, and the prince of stories tells stories of his own.
Broken Link // Romance // Teen
Dream comes to visit Desire with a proposition.
