#Sandmanniversary

[rexwrendraws]

Sandcastles: Year One, A Sandman Fan-Fic Anthology ⏳

To celebrate The Sandman's one year anniversary this past weekend (how has it been a year already!?), I started a self-indulgent project and decided I wanted to take a crack at typesetting for the very first time.

So, I'm very proud to present: Sandcastles, an 180-page digital anthology that celebrates some of my favorite Sandman fics from the past year! Sandcastle collects shorter fics ranging from gen to mature, and is print-ready and available to be downloaded for free. Through this anthology, I hope others can get the same joy from these fics the same way I did over the past year (think of it as a glorified fic rec list)! (And, if anyone's interested, the print-ready files are available for download as well, if anyone wanted to print their own copy of Sandcastles!)

✨ Download Sandcastles here!

Thank you to all the authors for giving me permission to include their work in this anthology! This is my love letter to all of your work! Please check them out and leave a kind word or two!

The fics included in Sandcastles, in order of the Table of Contents, are the following:

Companions - Picture_Yourself (@anthrossandman)

Fridays - hardly_an_escape (@hardly-an-escape)

Warning Sign - issylra (@issylra)

Snacktime - fishydwarrows (@fishfingersandscarves)

Stray - softestpunk (@softest-punk)

Aulon Raid - moorishflower (@moorishflower)

Unbidden Miracles - mostlybuddingthoughts (@mostlybuddingthoughts)

Available - softestpunk (@softest-punk)

Points of View - cuubism (@cuubism)

Fern-Fevered - notallsandmen (notallmaenads) (@notallsandmen)

The Last - secondjulia (@secondjulia)

Scratch a Little Itch - sanyumi (@valeriianz)

Simple Dreams of Comfort - softestpunk (@softest-punk)

The Apocalypse is Nigh! - cuubism (@cuubism)

To Those Who Dare Wonder - Astrophel_Hireath (@mentallyinvernation)

The Perils of Inebriation - Lilibet (@the-slow-arrow)

Touch - softestpunk (@softest-punk)

Passing the Time - Anonymous

I'm Stuck on You (I'm Mighty Glad You Stayed) - hardly_an_escape (@hardly-an-escape)

Hob Gadling vs. The British Museum (Unknown Artist, c. 2022, Oil on Canvas) - TheAllKnowingOwl (@theallknowingowl)

This also counts as my submission for Day 1 of @mr-sadman 's Sandmanniversary 2023 prompts (Collection) :)

_ _ _ _ _ (Post & files updated — 29.08.2023)

[writing-for-life]

Happy Birthday/Anniversary Murphy, you’ve finally made it to 35 in human years even if you’re haunted by the narrative.

The debut issue of The Sandman went on sale on November 29th 1988.

And I've been following you around for nearly as long (three decades, help), the hopeless fangirl I am.

Have some fanart by moi to celebrate (the only one I’ve ever been sort of happy with), created just before you turned 30. It went through a few iterations since—the one you see here has largely been painted over the original, which was a bit triggering in certain ways (shamelessly posting it now. Don't repost the image without credit, reblogging is okay and appreciated though):

Plus, you in your birthday suit in your birthday issue (art by Sam Kieth & Mike Dringenberg):

Plus, you at your most beautiful (at least to me) in Soft Places (sorry, I know you felt like shit), art by John Watkiss:

[teejaystumbles]

The Hound, clad in his typical red and white ensemble, now similarly torn and dirtied as Dream’s, stares back at him. His breath is fast and his brown eyes are wide. He stills and remains silent for several moments, as if afraid he might startle his prey into running again. But Dream is done. He has wrenched his ankle with the last jump from a roof and this is as far as he goes. Dream gives a wry smile and rasps, “You got me.”

"The Hunted" (tumblr, AO3)

[mr-sadman]

The Mr. Sadman Mod Committee is very excited to reveal our Spring and Summer event schedule!!

Buckle up, because this is gonna be such a fun ride!

More details will be given in individual posts nearing the events' respective timelines!

Have fun and enjoy~

[melrocks21]

Look into his eyes…as he looks deep into your soul…

Happy Sandmanniversary 💔

#Sandmanniversary #Sandmanniversay2023 #TheSandman #Sandman #Morpheus #TomSturridge

[tryan-a-bex]

Fireflies and a Missing Person

For the #sandmanniversary2023! Read it on AO3 Prompts: for Aug 4-6, stargazing, hunt, raven Gen, 1172 words, broken bone, missing person

Lucienne sighed deeply as Gault caressed her bald head and pointy ear tips. There was really nothing so lovely as lying on the grass in Fiddler’s Green, with her head in her love’s lap, watching the stars swirl above them. Gault always joined her in stargazing initially, but was quicker to be distracted, or maybe just slower to lie down on the grass when her neck got tired of craning at the sky. They quietly rehashed their days, each taking comfort in the other’s interest in the minutiae of her life.

Today, Gault was celebrating another trans person who, through the shapeshifting dreams she brought, had realized that he could, if he wanted to, take steps toward having the shape he really wanted on the outside as well as the inside. Gault found him as a she and left him as a he, and it was one of the greatest privileges of her life.

For Lucienne, today’s annoyance had been Mervyn Pumpkinhead. Or rather, the lack of Mervyn. Usually he was around, even ubiquitously, whenever Lucienne needed him to do any little thing. Today, she’d started keeping a list when he hadn’t appeared for a few hours. It happened occasionally that he forgot to tell her about some big project he was taking on, and she wouldn’t see him for a few days.

“Awwwk! Hey Lucienne! Hi Gault! Have you seen Mervyn?” Matthew flapped over to them across the dark field, landing beside Lucienne’s knees.

“I haven’t seen him all day,” Lucienne complained as Gault shook her head in agreement.

“He was going to play poker with us tonight, and he never showed up!”

“Sometimes he gets involved in a big project and doesn’t come around the castle for a few days. But I’ve never heard of him not knocking off at quitting time,” Lucienne admitted.

Matthew hopped sideways and shook his head.

“I have to say, I’m getting a bit worried about him. I’ve been looking all over.”

“Really?” Gault asked. “You haven’t found him? Do you need our help?”

“Would you? Could you help me hunt for him?”

“Of course! Where have you already looked?” Lucienne jumped up and stretched out the magical raven wings Dream had given her, giving Gault a hand as she rose and fluttered her glowing wings as well, and together they leaped into the air after Matthew.

It was quickly apparent that the new moon which had made stargazing so delightful wasn’t helping with an aerial search. They needed more light. Lucienne’s eyes drifted to Gault as she pondered the problem, and the gorgeous glowing lines of her body suddenly gave Lucienne the answer she was looking for. 

“Fireflies!”

“Fireflies?” Matthew asked.

“Ahhhhh!” Gault nodded.

Lucienne, as Steward of the Dreaming, had some authority to ask dreams for help, so it was no big thing for her to summon a dream of fireflies and request that they sweep along the ground before the three friends. With the fireflies lighting the terrain, it was quickly clear that they had not yet found Mervyn. 

As they covered ground, the fireflies flowing over trees and dipping into little streambeds sunken in the landscape, Lucienne also searched her mind for any hints Mervyn might have left, or any parts of the Dreaming he might have found difficult to leave. Wait, hadn’t he been complaining about a tree? And a little stream? 

“He was muttering yesterday about a Tree of Wisdom dream, where the Tree is located at the end of a long, deep ravine, its fruit only accessible after a difficult quest, but he has to go periodically to check that the little stream that waters it has not become blocked by leaves.”

“Oh, I know where that is!” Gault exclaimed, leading them in a more westerly direction.

—

The ravine was deep and dark as they glided along above it, the depths twinkling with the lights of the fireflies. They were nearly to the end when the fireflies started to gather at a certain point, and Matthew, Gault and Lucienne flew closer to see what had caught their interest.

“Took you long enough to get here!” Mervyn’s vociferous complaining reached them before they could see his head. 

“I’ve had the worst day! Had to hike all the way out here, didn’t I? Muck about clearing decaying leaves from that damn little stream. Then the path crumbled on my way back up, dumping me back down here on my ass. And this hell-forsaken rock went and cracked my leg, so do you think I could get back up? No! And you lot! Not even coming for me until after dark! No one cares about the working man.”

Lucienne put an arm around him to help him up, while Gault gathered the pieces of his broken leg. Matthew hopped around, his worried chattering a counterpoint to Mervyn’s ongoing grumbling. 

“How are we going to get him up the hill? His leg is broken and it’s not even flesh, will it heal? Does it hurt? That path looks dangerous even if it wasn’t dark. We can’t fly him home. This is terrible!”

“Maybe the roc?” Gault suggested to Lucienne. Lucienne considered. The open space in the middle of the ravine was barely big enough for the humongous mythical bird to land, but she thought they could make it happen. 

“Yes,” she agreed, “Over there.” She requested the roc’s aid as they began to help Mervyn over the uneven ground to the centre of the ravine. The fireflies continued to light their way.

By the time they got there, the roc was circling above. 

“Do you think you can manage?” Lucienne shouted up to it as it examined the terrain and the broken Pumpkinhead. It dipped its head in acquiescence. As Gault held Mervyn’s head aloft and Lucienne supported his body, the roc dove down to grab him, head in one claw and body in the other, against Mervyn’s increasingly loud protests. Lucienne was pretty sure they were token protests. Anyway, she couldn’t think of any other way to get him out of the ravine. The three rescuers rose into the air after them, Gault with the broken leg once more in her hands. 

—

The poker game was not only later but louder than usual. Lucienne had decided to provide hot chocolate drinks, on the theory that warm chocolate was soothing to people who had fallen into ravines or participated in daring rescues. Mervyn didn’t seem too interested in his. He’d patched up his leg with his tools, brought to him by Matthew, and was proudly regaling the poker group with the (only slightly exaggerated) tale of his adventure. It looked like they were letting him win, possibly. Lucienne wasn’t all that familiar with poker, but he seemed happy about how it was going. Gault brought her cup of hot chocolate and cuddled next to Lucienne on the loveseat.

“Looks like he��s going to survive then,” she remarked. Lucienne leaned on her shoulder.

“All is right in the Dreaming once more,” she agreed.

Thank you to @best-wishes for the great beta read!

Previous Next

Now with art by @ibrithir-was-here!

[purplesauris]

Trying to Recognize Myself (When I Feel I’ve Been Replaced)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Hob has lived a very, very long life. 

He's proud of it too, though he can't brag about it to anyone but his partner (who is partially the reason he's immortal in the first place). And part of being so old, having lived so long while fancying and vying for an eldritch's attention, is that he attracts a particular crowd. A crowd he's had plenty of time to get used to, that he relates to more than he relates to humans sometimes, but one he attempts to keep some distance from.

He might be mired in the supernatural, but even he has a limit to how much trouble he'll let come to him.

Despite that, he has quite a few good friends all mixed up in the occult, from Johanna Constantine (who looks exactly like her ancestor) in the exorcism business to the twins that infrequently show up to the New Inn, mostly on full moons, and offer to lay down a few simple wards in exchange for Hob keeping the pub open past the witching hour. He likes those two best, mostly because they conduct themselves well and don't try to drag Hob any deeper than he's shown interest in going.

Right now, he really wishes the supernatural being accosting him were as deferential as the twins.

Read more on AO3!

[sleepsonfutons]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (Comics), The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Self-Indulgent, When You Have A Crush On The Monster Under Your Bed, Hob Gadling Has A Crush On The Eldritch Something Under His Bed, Dream Is The Monster Under Your Bed, Holding Hands, Getting Together, Stargazing, Alternate Universe, Sandmanniversary 2023 Series: Part 2 of Dreams From Under The Bed Summary:

Hob's connected with his under the bed neighbor and while he loves their hand holding and starry ceiling views, his heart yearns for more.

[fleabagoftheendless]

Wrote this one on the prompt 'Collection' for Sandmanniversary 2023. Hope y'all enjoy it!

[teejaystumbles]

Sandmanniversary Day 2 - "Hunt"

(fantasy human AU)

Dream falls against the weathered stone wall with a gasp and sinks to his knees. He cannot run anymore. He knows he has lost. Wherever he goes, wherever he hides, the Hound finds him. He has chased him for days and nights, through dark streets and back alleys, cellars and abandoned houses, under bridges and over rooftops, through the belfry of churches and finally here, up onto the highest tower of the cathedral.

Dream is bleeding from uncountable nicks and scrapes, his black silk and linen garments, made to hide him in the darkness and grant him swiftness, ripped and torn in several places. His mask is hanging in shreds off his face and is no longer doing its job of hiding his face. He suspects his identity hasn't been a secret for a while but he had felt safer with the mask. Now he pulls its pieces off, still panting from exertion. He looks down and sees the red and white coat of the Hound billowing in the wind. He is almost upon him.

[AO3] or under the cut

Dream looks out over the city - his city. His people. The people who don't believe in him anymore. Wherever he has tried to hide, they have shut their doors in his face, too afraid of Lord Burgess' wrath to shelter the famous "Dream", leading figure of the rebellion. Would they have let him in if they knew who he was? Or would they have called on the usurper's men that much faster? They would be handsomely rewarded for handing over the missing Crown Prince Morpheus. Dream scoffs and leans back against the rough limestone, wrapping his fingers around the claws of the gargoyle next to him for support. He watches the edge of the roof for his pursuer to pull himself up. He could try and kick him off. He could... Dream gulps. 

No. He couldn't. He can't kill anybody, that's not who he is. And he doesn't want to kill the Hound. He wants...

A hand appears on the edge and grabs onto it hard, before a man pulls himself up and over the edge with a grunt. The Hound, clad in his typical red and white ensemble, now similarly torn and dirtied as Dream's, stares back at him. His breath is fast and his brown eyes are wide. He stills and remains silent for several moments, as if afraid he might startle his prey into running again. But Dream is done. He has wrenched his ankle with the last jump from a roof and this is as far as he goes.

Dream gives a wry smile and rasps, "You got me."

The Hound stares,  panting. "I got you," he whispers. With trembling fingers he reaches out and touches Dream's jaw. Dream flinches and shivers violently. He wants to lean into the touch but instead he tries to lean back further into the wall. "Finally," the Hound says, and Dream lets out a wet sigh that sounds more like a sob and closes his eyes, feeling tears spill over his cheeks.

"Yes. I'm done. It's over. Do what you want."

He feels calloused fingers gently cradle his face and he waits for the pain of the killing blow or for these hands to choke him, but then there are lips upon his and he opens his eyes with a startled moan. He surges up but the Hound grabs his wrists and presses him back against the wall. Is this how it's going to go?

He tears himself away from the mouth on his and gasps, "What are you-" 

The Hound's eyes are wide and pleading and his grip is strong but not painful. His brown hair is falling into his face, the wind pulling at it. Dream can't help but stare at the handsome face he has seen so many times from afar and only once closer, from across a dining table. Robert Gadling, personal guard of Lord Burgess, and his most skilled assassin, called The Hound, is looking at him like he wants to-

Dream gulps and blushes, feeling his heart thunder in his ears. If this man wants to have his way with him before he kills him... he closes his eyes again and bares his neck, his heart clenching painfully. "Go on then," he whispers, but his captor pulls him into a hug and puts his nose under Dream's ear, making him shiver again. The words mouthed against his neck have Dream go rigid. 

"Please, Dream. Let me help."

He pulls back and looks Dream in the eyes again, bringing his hand to his lips, kissing it slowly, with intent. "Let me help you. Your majesty."

Dream raises an eyebrow and stares in surprise, his breath still coming fast, still feeling flushed by the proximity and the prospect of being ravished by the man he has pined over from afar for months. When he finally finds his words he pulls his hand free and pushes a strand of his hair out of his face, tracing Gadling's jaw reverently.

"Has the Hound forsaken its master?"

The man hums and gives him a smile Dream already knows he will become addicted to. 

"It has found a better one," he says, his words a vow, and Dream pulls him in for another desperate kiss.

[mr-sadman]

The Sandman TV Show celebrates its one year anniversary...

in less than a WEEK!!

Friends, time does fly really fast and we can't believe it had been almost a year already since our dear show aired for the very first time! To celebrate the occasion, the Modmin team of Mr. Sadman cordially invites you to

Sandmanniversary Weekend!

To celebrate, we offer you a whole weekend of daily prompts, fic read-alongs, games and more! This is an event to celebrate the entirety of the show that we all love and cherish so much!

Without further adue, here is our wonderful promptlist

Our lovely FAQ

You have read well, this is an all-ship, gen event to celebrate the myriad of ways we enjoy and love the Sandman!!

Do not hesitate if you have more questions, we don't bite!

TLDR : Sandmanniversary Weekend is happening from August 4th to August 6th celebrating all things Sandman TV. All mediums are encouraged, as well as all sorts of content (SFW, NSFW, Triggering, etc.). We are on tumblr, here, as well as Twitter, AO3 and Discord!! Don't forget to tag #Sandmanniversary and #Sandmanniversary2023 for us to see and reblog!

[nitestorm823]

Happy #Sandmanniversary

Cheers to #Sandmanniversary

[teganrose]

One year ago The Sandman premiered on Netflix 5th August 2022

Happy Sandmanniversary one of my favourite comfort show 🖤✨

[arthurtaylorlester]

happy sandmanniversary to all the (most) people who followed me here for the sandman content, how do you feel about fiction horror podcasts?

[ineffably-ryuu]

takes the sandmanniversary prompt “soulmates” and crumples it up, tears it apart, and puts it back together with duct tape and glitter glue with my gremlin aroace hands

y’all will see what I mean in an hour or two

[purplesauris]

Feed the Beast On Broken Dreams

Rating: EXPLICIT

Pairing: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Summary: He still remembers the sudden shift of gravity, the sucking feeling in his chest as his heart skipped one, two, three beats before collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

“I still can’t—hah— believe you didn’t know we were soulmates,” Hob breathes, arching inexorably into the pull of his heart toward Dream. 

Dream grumbles from his perch between Hob’s legs, biting meanly at his belly and using one hand to pin Hob’s hips to the bed. “You did not tell me.”

Huffing a laugh, Hob twists his hands in the sheets and moans, low and needy when Dream’s fingers crook with gentle insistence inside him. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, Dream touching to his heart’s content, Hob a more than willing participant. It could be seconds, minutes, hours, each one of them pulling slowly like taffy while also rushing by like white-tipped waves, ebbing and flowing. Here, between them, sunk deep into the heart of the Dreaming, time is immaterial, useless to king and consort as they lose themselves in each other.

“Suppose it was well hidden,” Hob admits, hand grabbing at Dream’s shoulder as he noses along his belly, lingering over Hob’s sternum. 

Lingers over the mark that only Hob bears to show their connection, one forged and painfully nurtured over hundreds of years. 

Lux cordis mei.

Read more on AO3!