#i think the reason people liked the corinthian the most is he was the most consistent throughline

[bittersweet-mojo]

finished sandman. that sure was a bunch of different stories one after another. kinda makes you wonder if it would have been better suited being a comi-

[avelera]

Sandman Meta: Hob has exactly zero way of figuring out who Dream is (before they reunite)

More than once in a fic I've written from Hob's POV I've had readers note their astonishment that Hob has not yet figured out Dream's identity, even if Dream does not reveal it himself.

Even in fics of mine where Dream reveals his name, like in Giving Sanctuary, I have Hob be slow on the uptake when it comes to the extent of Dream's powers, even things like being able to enter and control dreams, and the reason I do this is carefully considered and based in the fact that Hob would have no way of knowing who Dream is or by extension what he can do.

So I kind of want to take a step back and address in detail just how actually impossible it would be, objectively, for Hob to figure out who Dream is in a world that doesn't have The Sandman comic for him to read to figure it out.

This is, of course, because, from a Doylist angle, Neil's "Dream of the Endless" is not based in any single mythology. Indeed, Dream as we know him is cobbled together from at least three or more different mythological figures, none of which combine to actually form the "Dream of the Endless" we see in the show or read in the comics. The Endless are completely made up for the comic and the Sandman, Morpheus, and Oneiros are all from wildly different mythologies and none of them actually overlap to form the complete picture of who Dream is as an entity in the Sandman show or comic.

So even if someone straight-up told Hob that the person he meets is the Sandman, Morpheus, or Oneiros (btw, there is no singular figure of "Oneiros" in Greek mythology) he would still not be able to put together the full picture of who Dream is. Even if he's given the name "Dream of the Endless" to work with, those words combined don't mean anything on their own if you don't have what an Endless is filled in, because it was made up entirely for the comic. (Of course, a fanfic author absolutely could make up such a book for their fic but it would be a creation for that fic, serving a purpose within that story like to tip Hob off, though I think it's entirely reasonable to make up a book in the Sandman world that goes into detail on who the Endless are. The Magdalene Grimoire, btw, is not that book. It only talks about Death. Death is a figure in many mythologies including the Christian one, but Dream is not. Even Burgess needs the Corinthian to tell him who Dream is in the show, and he's an occultist.)

Couple all of this with Hob's personal experience with Dream, encountering him as part of a wager with Dream's sister Death to see if Hob could bear a life of immortality, you get far more clues that would send him hurtling off into a totally incorrect direction before you'd get anything close to the truth, if we assume only the books available in our world are available to him.

So the reason this is a bit of an irritation for me that there's this idea that Hob has "all the clues" to figure out who Dream is because it smacks of a logical fallacy.

Basically, it's easy to see that the answer to a complicated math problem is "obvious" if someone just hands the answer to you. But challenging people to actually solve it themselves could be quite a bit more complicated. And in this complex formula solving for "Who the fuck is Hob's mysterious stranger?" there's actually so many blank X's of unanswered questions that I genuinely think there's no way for Hob to solve this equation without someone giving him the answer.

Let's go through this systematically, using just what Hob knows as observed on screen in the show.

1389 - a pale man in all black with a ruby at his throat approaches Hob's table and challenges Hob to meet him there in 100 years. He then smiles enigmatically and leaves.

That's it. That's all Hob has to go off of. He never sees Death, he has no idea about the wager. As far as he knows, Dream gave him immortality. It would be the most logical conclusion given that the day before Hob didn't have immortality and the day after, presumably, he does.

1489 - The only confirmation he has is actually seeing Dream there in 1489 and the first thing he asks is, "How did you know that I'd be here?"

Dream does not answer him. Hob takes a few stabs at guessing his identity which reveals his Christian European context: are you a wizard, or a saint -- to be clear, these are two types of human magic users that make sense to Hob for his context. The only other figure he can think of is The Devil. He doesn't ask if Dream is a pagan god or a faerie, he assumes a man with arcane or divine magic, or the Devil.

Dream says that he's not the Devil, much good that would do if he was a Devil who could just presumably lie to Hob, and says he's interested in Hob's experience and implies that he will grant him another 100 years of life. He is sarcastic and unimpressed about Hob's wonder at the world. He doesn't even actually show much interest in Hob being in the printing business. He only shows a spark of interest in Hob's continued desire to live, and then immediately takes off.

1589 - The only new information Hob gets this year is 1) Dream is supremely uninterested in food or the wealth Hob has earned, or his family, and 2) puny little Will Shaxberd, a crap playwright with no shot at becoming anything more, suddenly becomes a famous playwright. He would eventually become a renowned playwright in his day but keep in mind, Shakespeare didn't actually become mega famous centuries after his death. In his day, many people thought other playwrights like Marlowe were better.

My point is, from this Hob doesn't necessarily get even the pieces to determine that Dream likes art. It might seem obvious to us because Dream is Prince of Stories, but that's not the offer Dream gives Shaxberd. He just asks if it is Will's will to create dreams to spur the minds of men. Yes, we know that Dream wants Will to make dreams for him, but in Hob's context, Dream is just asking what Will would sell his soul for, just like he overheard Hob saying he had no intention of dying. From this perspective the only strong conclusion Hob can draw is that Dream grants wishes.

From this, Hob could conclude that Dream is a djinn/genie, or perhaps a faerie, but there is absolutely nothing to indicate he's associated with dreams or literature directly besides a mention of creating dreams nested in the context of asking Shaxberd what he wants, giving him a supernatural gift much like the one Hob believes Dream gave him.

At this point, the domains of Dream's power are very muddled for Hob because he doesn't know Death gave him immortality. So as far as he knows, Dream can give immortality AND make an amateur playwright into the greatest writer who ever lived. Putting these two things together does not bring you naturally to the domain of dreams by any stretch.

(I will note here, that in Giving Sanctuary, I had Hob learn that "Death" is Dream's sister before he learns Dream's name. There, his initial conclusion is that Dream must therefore be Famine, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and the one known for wearing black (and not eating seems like a clue with Dream too) my point being that having another, small piece of the whole puzzle still would probably send him flying off in the wrong direction given his cultural context.)

1789: The next time Hob gets any hint that Dream has powers is with Lady Johanna. He uses his sand to show her her, "old ghosts". Note, she does not fall asleep but rather begins to hallucinate.

The Sandman myth has its origins of Scandinavia and it is first written down in in "Der Sandmann" a context that Hob might have access to, if he's very well read, in the early 1800s. By the way, the description of the Sandman in that book bears a striking resemblance to the Corinthian, because he eats the eyes of naughty children, and very little to Dream beyond the use of sand in his magic.

There is absolutely nothing to link the Sandman to Morpheus the Roman God of Dreams, who was made up entirely by Ovid in the Metamorphoses and never mentioned anywhere before that. That's because Neil Gaiman was the first to link those two mythological figures.

And on that note, there is no Oneiros attested to in Hesiod. The mention of Oneiros is actually to the "Oneiroi" an entire tribe of dreams and nightmares who are the children of Night (Nix). There's Hypnos (Sleep) who is the brother of Thanatos (Death) but that is about as close as we get to the Endless in any other mythological source besides the comics. And again, Dream does not put Johanna to sleep, he makes her hallucinate.

1889- Again, there is precious little to go off of. Dream is tight-lipped as ever. The only thing he gives away is that Lady Johanna later helped him with a task, a fact Hob is visibly annoyed and I daresay jealous about, and when he lashes out he refers to himself as, "One such as I."

But "One such as I," only reveals something Hob already knew: that Dream thinks highly of himself. That doesn't actually reveal that Dream is even magical, he could just be nobility or a powerful immortal magic user and refer to himself that way. Hob already knows that Dream is magical, and immortal, and probably some sort of high born or aristocrat. He's probably known that since 1389 given how Dream was dressed and given that giant fuck-off ruby (which actually might make Hob, in that day, wonder if Dream was a relation to the Black Prince)

That's it. That is the grand total of everything Hob has seen of Dream.

Hob in the comic will eventually admit, in The Wake, that he figured out who Dream was on his own. But this is after Seasons of Mist when Dream toasts him in Hob's dream and Hob wakes up with the impossible bottle of wine on his bedside. He has another encounter too with Dream where Dream eventually accedes to Hob's request to make the men who killed Audrey, his dead girlfriend, know who she was. Presumably, Dream makes them dream of her.

So Hob in the comics by the time we get to The Wake has more to go off of to make the link to the Lord of Dreams. Hob as we see him in the show, has had much less to go off of.

Even if you give Hob one piece of the puzzle, like one of the names like Morpheus, or The Sandman, or Oneiros, that still doesn't help give him the whole picture. The word "Endless" would be meaningless. He would have to have read at least three pretty obscure books that span a period of 2,000 years (between Hesiod and Der Sandmann) to get the three books that Neil primarily drew from to combine these figures into the Dream of the comic.

Look, my point is, unless someone gives the answer to Hob, and explains the full extent of what the Endless are, he's got little to go off of. Arguably, not enough at all to solve for "X" as to who Dream is, even if he's given more pieces. This would be a tough problem to solve.

[the-punforgiven]

I mentioned at some point I was gonna talk about how Gideon Ofnir's helmet is probably one of my favourite pieces of Fromsoft character design a little while ago, so I figured I should talk about it before I forget to again

I really like this helmet because it serves as an excellent crystallization of Gideon as a character, so I figured I'd break it down and go step by step as to why I like it so much

Firstly, its design is clearly based off the Greek Corinthian helm, which sticks out a fair amount when compared to Elden Ring's generally 13-16th century European fantasy aesthetic, doing a good job communicating that he is, effectively, much older than most of the other characters present, and conveys a sense of seniority that even he himself comments on when you first visit the Roundtable Hold. (There is an argument that it could also be based off a barbute helm, but I feel like the sharper shape language and closer-to-bronze coloration swing it more towards the Corinthian helm for me)

Secondly, and quite possibly more obviously, the ears. Viewed from a distance they give a vibe closer to a sort of scholarly beard almost reminiscent of greek philosopher statues, again tying in to his aged academic vibe, but being ears instead of a beard also hints at his deceptive nature as even his character design is somewhat misleading, but also hints at his more insidious habit of watching and especially listening to everything you do. He is called the All-Hearing for a reason, after all

The spikes on his helm mirror the shape of a crown, symbolizing both his lordship over the Roundtable Hold, but also his desire to become Elden Lord. Given how simplistic the points are, as well as how some of them (in the icon at least) appear almost bent or dented, I feel could also demonstrate how worthy of a lord one like Gideon may actually be, worn, out-of-shape, thin to the point of frail-looking and remarkably plain compared to the meticulous engravings and stalwart construction of a crown like Godfrey's, but that might be a bit of a stretch so take it with a grain of salt lmao

The eyes across the forehead lock in the crown aesthetic for him (as well as touching slightly on the double helix pattern that is literally everywhere in this game), while also further punctuating his motif of eyes and ears; always watching, always listening to what you do. Curious that the eyes are notably less detailed than his ears though, I wonder if that's relevant

Lastly, the "face". It's a fairly common trope out there that people tend to use masks in character design to portray an air of distrust about a character, in a sort of "If they were trustworthy why would they conceal their face" sort of way. This feels incredibly deliberate on Gideon's part, since a helm like that by all accounts should let you see a good portion of the wearer's face, and is indeed why barbute helms have been a staple of good guy knights throughout the fantasy genre for years, Gideon's quite clearly does not, preferring to cast his face in impenetrable shadow. and That, I think, is a pretty blatant and in-your-face indicator that you definitely should not trust him

Anyway character design is really cool have fun out there 👍

[gabessquishytum]

This came back up on my dash recently: https://www.tumblr.com/dromaeocore/177890408173/dromaeocore-you-can-literally-always-tell-if-an

And I was suddenly struck with the silly idea of werewolf Hob having a crush on Dream, but being nervous of approaching him because of the whole werewolf thing (he’s not like a crazed monster or anything when transformed, it’s just he’s worried that him spending a decent chunk of his life being a half-man half-wolf creature might be a bit of a concern for most people).

Except one day he sees Dream casually sketching some dogs, sees that they’re drawn a certain way, and suddenly Hob has a sneaking suspicion that him being a werewolf might not be as much of a turn-off for his crush as he thought…

-🪽anon

ADFHKLGDSGHJJ furry artist Dream,,,,,,, the Corinthian and Matthew and everyone are all his furry ocs,,,,,, I'm obsessed tbh

I'm just imagining that they start dating, and Hob is still a tiny bit nervous about "coming out" as a werewolf, but he really wants to share this part of himself with his amazing new boyfriend! So he sits Dream down a few days before the full moon and he's like, "I have to tell you something, I think you're going to be happy about it, but if you're not then that's totally okay too!" And Dream is imagining that Hob has booked them a romantic mini break or something.

Instead, Hob explains that he's a werewolf, every month he has to transform into a big hairy wolf - he's not dangerous or out of his mind, but he is a wolf. Whether he likes it or not.

Dream makes this sort of excited squeaking noise and covers his mouth. As far as he's concerned, this is amazing news! He can't wait to study Hob’s anatomy... for artistic reasons, and lets be real, for sex reasons too. Imagining his lovely boyfriend in the body of a hulking hairy wolf is just... a massively sexy thing. Dream is already having ideas.

Seeing Hob’s tail wagging for the first time is confirmation for Dream that he is very much in love with Hob - in both wolf and human form. He's going to spend every full moon from now on, appreciating Hob in ways that he's never been appreciated before...

[rriavian]

How do you think Corinthian would react if Dream give him a set of parents. You know, since he wants to feel what it's like to be human so bad 😹

When I tell you that I grinned like a fool when I read this—well, I grinned like a fool when I read this! What a concept! It's exactly the kind of unusual punishment/lesson Dream would know his nightmare would hate, giving him an aspect of being human that I think the Corinthian would just see as utterly humiliating. It's half joke, half lesson, an alternative to destruction but also a way for Dream to ensure a close eye is kept on his nightmare.

Oh it would be perfect because the Corinthian would not expect Dream’s response to his ‘I wanna taste what it’s like to be human’ complaint to be to give him parents.

The Corinthian: I kill people to taste what it’s like to be human

Dream, probably: sounds like you need a parental figure

Honestly I think it would be the most baffling turn of events for the Corinthian who absolutely did not have this on his bingo card for 2022.

He's locked in the Dreaming (grounded, Dream had said sternly, eyes glittering with a cruel sort of mischief) while his creator begins plotting. Lucienne had excused herself to the library almost immediately but the Corinthian can still hear her laughing. He honestly can't decide if he'd have preferred to just be turned into a pile of sand rather than this. Because you just know that once Dream has made up his mind there’s no changing it.

In fact, he’d double down in the face of any complaints, and he’d be utterly meticulous in his self-appointed quest to find the Corinthian the perfect parents.

How had he gotten here?

The Corinthian doesn't quite know where exactly things took such a sharp turn towards sheer insanity. Did 100 years in a glass fishbowl scramble Dream's brain? Whatever happened his creator is scarily intent on his task. The only reason why Dream wouldn’t straight up put the Corinthian up for adoption would be because there’s an age limit.

But he’d definitely find another way to screen prospective candidates.

Part of me feels like Dream would want them to be human (for maximum accuracy) but I think he’d realise that probably won’t work. The Corinthian would just kill them, and Dream refuses to put his dreamers in danger. So he starts looking for immortal couples. I can just imagine the supernatural community suddenly all having the same very strange encounter with Dream of the Endless and calling each other up like ???

Imagine that after one hundred years of absence the personification of dreams shows up in your house, looks you dead in the eye, and asks if you and your partner would like to become parents to his serial killing masterpiece.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

This chapter includes detailed smut. Minors please dni!

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

Note: This chapter is, once again, particularly long. If you feel like reading it on Tumblr is not convenient, feel free to do so on AO3 instead (link at the bottom). I only ask that you like and/or share this post so that other people can find my work. I would really appreciate it! ♥

Morpheus opened up about a tragedy from his past. However, he was keeping from you a lot more.

"So, how old are you exactly?”

Hob turned his face toward you, his eyes brimming with a tinge of mischievousness and curiosity as he issued a brief, soft chuckle. “I was wondering if you would ever ask about that,” he said in a cheerful and playful tone of voice.

"You don’t just find out on a daily basis that your best friend can live forever," you said, displaying a mixture of excitement and surprise.

Hob moved his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Do you know who he is, truly?”

“Do you?”

"To an extent, yes. Or at least, I think I do,” he replied. "Took me a while to understand that though. He's not exactly the most talkative being in existence.”

He smiled wryly, recalling the multitude of attempts he had made to get Morpheus to open up and divulge more about his personal background.

“How did you find out?” He asked.

You bit your lower lip, hesitating slightly on what to express as you tried to choose your words with utmost caution. Morpheus had evidently not revealed the specifics of his long captivity to Hob, and you didn't want to spill the details that the King of Dreams hadn't felt prepared to share with him yet.

"I wasn't even supposed to meet him, but in the end, I was introduced to him. It all happened by chance."

Your explanation didn’t exactly constitute a falsehood. Hob, on the other hand, didn’t show much faith in what you told him, his expression showing a hint of skepticism.

“Y/N, tell me the truth. Something happened to him, didn’t it?”

You took a deep breah. “Why do you think that?”

"Come on, things are a little too vague. You told me you met this guy at your workplace, but you've been evading most of my questions about him. I noticed the way he changed, I feel like you know more than you want to admit."

Your feelings of discomfort were evident as you regarded him with a look of guilt on your face. If you were to share the informations in your possession without Morpheus’ explicit consent, you would most likely incur his disapproval and potential ire.

You were torn between your loyalty to your best friend and your desire to be respectful with the man you loved.

You turned your body to properly face him as you touched his shoulder, your fingers curling around it lightly and your gaze meeting his as you spoke. "Hob, I'm sorry. I would never want to lie to you," you said, feeling remorseful. "I only think it's best for him to tell you himself.”

There was a moment of palpable silence as he seemed lost in thought. But then, he tried to alleviate the tension by gently clasping your hand, leaning back on the bench with a reassuring smile.

"Just tell me one thing: whatever occurred to him, was it bad? Is this why he stood me up in 1989?” He inquired.

You sighed heavily. "Yes, it was awful. And yes, he couldn’t come to your appointment because of that occurance.”

Hob exhaled a sigh of relief. “Well, now I know he wasn’t trying to avoid me.”

“You were not the problem, I assure you.”

He laughed lightly, his expression conveying a sense of calmness, finally dismissing his accumulated worries and frustrations.

"To answer your question, I am starting to lose count of my age. I met our friend over 600 years ago, which should give you a good indication,” he explained.

While you had previously been aware of the concept of immortality, the notion of a human never experiencing death was still quite unbelievable to you.

"How were you able to stay in one place for so long?”

Hob responded with a shrug. "I can't say it was easy. At times, I had to pretend to be someone else and changed my name. Other times, people assumed I had given up my soul to the bloody devil. There was this one woman in 1789, Lady Johanna Constantine, who claimed to want to know the secret of immortality.”

“What happened then?”

His lips curved upward into a wide grin, his entire face now emitting an aura of amusement and contentment. "Oh, that's quite a story. Imagine this: we were sitting at our table when this mysterious woman showed up with two big men in tow and a painting that did us no justice. She said: ‘They tell of a tale in these London parts, that the Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century in a tavern.’”

You laughed heartily at his comical attempt to mimic her persona, the gesture of placing his hands together in his lap and straightening up while doing so creating a humorous picture in your mind.

"The Wandering Jew?" You trembled with laughter as you repeated the words. "Was that meant to be you?”

You were unable to suppress the mirth that welled up inside you, amused by the absurdity of the situation. However, his statement still held a certain degree of wit and charm, despite being quite far-fetched.

"Oh yes. She took out this sketch of him resembling a Vulture from the Twilight movies, and me looking like something terrible happened to my nose.”

It was difficult to retain your composure, as you found yourself wanting to laugh even more. “And then what?”

“She continued: ‘You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men, sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me.’”

As Hob continued to mimic the woman’s manners, his pitch became lower and more bass. You were quite surprised to see how crisp and clear his recollections were despite the lengthy period of time that had gone by since that day.

“He didn’t even flinch, you know. He never does. Johanna Constantine expressed even more interest in learning things from him, but in the end, he politely refused.”

It was astounding to see how hooked you now were to his narrative, the story capturing your interest and drawing you in.

“There was a little conflict when her smugglers stepped forward. I proudly knocked them out, but she directed the tip of her knife at my throat, the viper. Then, our friend stood up calmly and composed, blew some sand into her face and she dropped to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she pleaded, whispering in desperation while being confronted by a nightmare that only she could see.”

You felt excited, placing your elbow against the back of the bench and listening attentively.

“I think that was the first time I actually started to connect the dots.”

“I wish I could have seen you back then.”

Hob's face brightened with joy and satisfaction as he smiled at you. He released a breath from his nostrils and affectionately patted your knee in a brotherly way. “I’m glad you know my secret now. You have no idea how many times I considered telling you everything.”

“You know, if I hadn’t met him, I would have found it to be nearly impossible to believe,” you said.

"And for a good reason. I was at a loss for words myself when I realized that I wasn't aging at all.”

“How did it happen?”

He replied with a shake of his head. “It was the year of 1389. I was drinking with my friends, having a good time. I simply joked about how I considered death a mug's game, seeing the majority of the people in my village taken away.”

“Black Death?”

He nodded. “So I made up my mind, declaring that I wasn’t going to die. And I didn’t.”

Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his statement. “That’s it?”

“He showed up right in that moment, saying that I had to tell him how it was like. He knew my name, proposed to meet again in that same tavern after 100 years. I thought he was joking, really.”

You hummed in understanding. “And a century later, you were both there.”

“We were.”

“So, how did it feel like?”

His smile expanded further as he observed your genuine curiosity. “Scary, confusing, amazing, absolutely incredible, bloody brilliant.”

Morpheus had informed you about his excitement surrounding the prospect of immortality. While it might seem like a blessing to many mortals, you always believed it to be quite a bane for the simple reason that you would be destined to outlive every friend and loved one.

Yet, this didn’t seem to be enough to make Hob wish for Death to come knocking at his door.

“You should join me.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your head tilting with confusion. “What?”

“I won’t lie to you. As much as I love all this, sometimes it can get lonely,” he admitted. “If you were granted the same thing, we could embark on this journey together and build a better future. Wouldn’t it be fun?”

While he may have delivered the comment in a light-hearted manner, you could distinctly detect that a part of him was quite earnest about the idea.

“Hob, he wasn’t the one who made it possible.”

“Maybe, but I still got it. This means that it could easily happen to anyone else, right?”

Anyone else, including you.

You contemplated the advantages and drawbacks of committing to an existence alongside your lover in the world of Dreams and your best friend in the Waking World. You were unsure as to whether it would be appropriate to request a similar gift for their sakes, considering there was still so much you didn’t know about Morpheus, or immortality itself.

"I have many other stories to tell, ones I can only share with you. Do you want to hear them?”

You fully turned your body, bringing your legs over each other and bracing your head with one hand. You reclined on the bench, adjusting your position to be more comfortable as you encouraged him. “I’m all ears!”

Your phone rang.

It emitted a loud and consistent sound that reverberated throughout the living room, causing you to rush to pick up the call. When you saw the name flashing on the display, you paused in utter disbelief. You hadn’t been in contact with that particular friend of yours since your college years, losing track of her once she relocated to a foreign Country in order to pursue her degree. You had enstablished a questionable tendency to distance yourself from those dear to you, providing them with the opportunity to embark on their adventures and find their place in the world without your presence constraining them.

You were not certain as to what her intentions were and why she decided to connect with you after such a prolonged period of time. You hesitated before pressing the answer button, wondering if it was merely a mistake and she had dialed the incorrect number.

After a slight delay, you eventually answered the call to stave off the risk of her terminating the communication. “Hello…?”

“Y/N!!!!”

You had to move the device away from your ear as the boisterous exclamation caused it to vibrate against your skull with significant force.

“Oh my goodness, It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“Ella…? Is it really you?”

"Of course it's me, silly! Who else would be calling you from my number?”

Her positive and upbeat approach to life was something that you always found endearing and enjoyable, it was easy for you to smile.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“I am, sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”

You heard her sigh. "I know this is sudden. I should have called you a long time ago, but things got so hectic that I cut myself out from everything and everyone I used to know.”

“I understand.”

A huge wave of teenage memories crashed over your mind, making you feel simultaneously sentimental and nostalgic. Everything appeared far away in your mind, and still somehow clear.

“Look, I need to be honest with you,” she continued. “The truth is that I need your help. And it is absolutely vital for us that you come over for an interview.”

As if pulled by an invisible force, your eyes rapidly opened and closed. “Wait, Ella. What exactly does that even mean?”

“Oh, right. I should explain.”

You were met with a sound resembling sandpaper rubbing on flesh, followed by a loud cough as she cleared her throat.

Ella was known for getting extremely itchy whenever she felt nervous, unable to overcome that nasty habit that led her to wound her own skin as a result of a persistent scratching. Apparently, that old habit hadn't left her, because you could tell it was happening at that very moment during your conversation.

"A few days ago, you contacted our company, Corbyn&Jones. The CEO is my husband, and it seems like he spoke a little too soon, sending you that hasty email.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, and your body immediately shifted into an upright position on the couch. “Oliver Corbyn is your husband…?”

Ella gave out a subtle chuckle. “Indeed. And we found ourselves in an awful situation, to put it mildly.”

Your hand started to shake and perspire as you gripped your phone harder. “He said you didn’t have any vacant spot.”

"Yes, that was the case before our former designer decided to buy a one-way ticket to the US," she replied. “You can imagine my surprise when I saw your name on that email.”

You inhaled sharply, proceeding to remove a handful of strands from your face.

“Y/N, I’ll just be blunt. The interview would be a formal way to introduce you to the team. I absolutely want you on board either way, and Oliver agreed.”

You nearly dropped your phone, grasping it with both hands to secure it. "Ella, this is great and all, but we haven't seen each other in years. You don't have to put in a good word for me," you said hesitantly.

The scratchy sound intensified.

"I never stopped considering you my friend, Y/N. More than that, your work is absolutely outstanding. You know I've always been a fan of your creations, but this time, you've got a portfolio to die for.”

You couldn't decide what was more touching: the fact that she valued your work enough to implement it in her company, or the way she still seemed to value your friendship despite the time apart.

"You can think about it, I don’t expect an answer right away. Why don't you come by and show me more of your drawings? You can take a look around, get to know what we do and the requirements for the job. We could share a cup of tea, have a little chat, reconnect. I think it would be lovely, don’t you?”

You had a strong desire to reunite with your longtime friend. You also wanted to experience the full flavor of the fashion industry to demonstrate to yourself that you did not mistakenly choose the wrong career path.

Failing to seize an opportunity that you had been looking forward to would have constituted a huge mistake on your part. You were finally ready to shine and you intended to let your light flow for once. All of it.

“How about tomorrow?”

The joyful shriek she emitted in response to your acceptance was as deafening as it was heartwarming. Based on the intense drumming of her heels against the floor, one could easily tell that she was kicking her feet enthusiastically as a manifestation of her growing delight.

A broad smile had found its way onto your countenance after concluding the phone call, your heart beating rapidly at the prospect of the imminent future. One that was still shrouded in mystery, but was already filled with numerous enticing and stimulating developments.

Ella Jones Corbyn.

It dawned on you that the name Corbyn was generally associated with dark, mysterious, and just the right amount of spooky. It was a variation of Corbin, a name with English and French roots, where its meaning was none other than "Raven".

You had long since discarded your faith in coincidences, believing that they were nothing more than the result of a combination of numerous aspects rather than random incidents.

You were traversing a lengthy, dimly lit passageway, its light sources emitting an aura akin to that of a complex maze, as you found yourself lost in its obscure, labyrinthine atmosphere. Despite your lack of knowledge with regards to your exact whereabouts, you felt a strong urge to continue advancing within the corridor in a quest to uncover what awaited you at its terminus.

You felt a faint hint of recognition within the setting, as the surroundings reminded you of a place that you had most certainly seen prior. You continued walking along your path, and a long set of stairs materialized before your eyes. Wet tiles seemed to lock into place like a jigsaw, allowing you to go downward.

You descended further and further, until finally landing on a flat surface. The area was completely dominated by a deep blackness, with the exception of the candles that were attached to the walls, casting a soft glow over the space with their flickering flames.

The chills ran down your spine and you hugged yourself, inhaling deeply. You proceeded cautiously, taking deliberate steps that felt as ponderous as a mountain's burden. When you moved onward, an intensely brilliant radiance suddenly erupted ahead of you, as if someone had turned the switch of a spotlight on. You narrowed your eyes in an effort to adapt to its brightness, only to notice an elusive form gaining clarity at the very center of the light.

A moment later, you felt your heart skip a beat, which caused your insides to feel a stinging sensation. Morpheus was there, seated inside a glass sphere on the platform of the familiar basement, completely naked and afflicted.

“No,” you breathed out, your voice breaking up due to the distress and anguish you were feeling. “Not again, please.”

You attempted to hasten toward him but your legs failed to move. As you uttered his name again and again, he didn’t raise his gaze on you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

You were frightened and strove to capture his attention, desperately trying to let him know that he was not there alone. However, the instant you managed to inch forward, you felt the clutches of a firm hold on both of your arms, coming from someone who immediatly yanked you away.

You cast your eyes upward, discerning two guards stationed on either side of you, although their faces were somewhat distorted, glitchy and unsetting. As you attempted to break free, your body became disobedient to your commands to shake them off of you.

You screamed as loudly as you could, imploring Morpheus and panting, as if a mysterious, impervious force beyond your comprehension forced you to remain completely still.

“Y/N.”

And then, you heard his calm and deep voice reaching your ears, even though the creature in the sphere was still unmoved, silent and displaying little reaction in the form of blinking.

“Morpheus…?” you echoed to clarify, a glimmer of hope rekindling in your heart.

“I am right beside you.”

You shifted your gaze, searching beyond the now frozen guards and noticing the King of Dreams, who stood proudly behind them. He raised his right hand in the air, making the two characters disappear into a trail of sand, as you began to regain full control of your limbs.

Upon returning your sights to the sphere, you discovered it to be completely empty, with the glass slowly melting down and vanishing like smoke.

Gaining awareness, you stood from the floor and met Morpheus's face, which provided you with a complete understanding of what had transpired. "Is this...?”

“It was merely a nightmare,” he responded.

Your first nightmare, accompanied by an exceptional level of uncanniness and fear, despite its strange elements and details.

You slowly advanced to reach him, although you had to confirm that he was not another figment of your imagination, keeping your eyes fixated on his face.

As if to satisfy your qualms regarding his corporeal reality, you gently brushed his covered wrist, perceiving the feeling of the fabric of his sleeves as well as the coolness of his fingers when your skin encountered his hand.

He seized you gently, carefully inspecting your anxiety as you attempted to shake off the remnants of your dream.

“This is really you, right?” You asked him.

“It is me,” he replied, assuaging your apprehension.

Rapidly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself on the tip of your toes and pressing your body against him. You swaddled him in a constrained, trembling embrace, feeling the warmth of his lips against your shoulder.

“Thank God.”

He silently secured his hands on your lower back, moving his thumbs up and down in a soothing gesture. When you moved apart, you took hold of his fingers once more, looking at him with relief and urgency.

Your previous nightmarish setting gave way to a much more pleasant scenery, one that you had already come to know and appreciate. The soft humming of the waves immediately began to subdue your agitated senses, and looking at the sky above, you had the impression that the suface of the ocean was reflecting in it for how clear it was.

The strength of your grasp around Morpheus's digits intensified when he attempted to extricate his hand from your grip. His surprised stare exuded boundless power, permeating your very essence.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

As you spoke your thoughts aloud, his eyes softened. With his gentle touch on your cheek, he allowed you to inch closer to his palm, inviting you into a loving caress.

“The nightmares of my realm are but an image of humankind’s fears. Have you been troubled by thoughts of me being captured again?”

You remained quiet, your response being reduced to a simple nod.

You failed to realize how profoundly your compassion was affecting him. The Ruler of Dreams pressed his lips tight in a pout, looking away and watching the horizon. Gradually, he withdrew his hand from you and an ominous premonition arose within you.

You could sense the presence of something that was inherently flawed and discordant. “Morpheus?”

His expression had transitioned into something else. It was now depicting sorrow, as if he were about to deliver the worst news of your life. Yet he had no clue how to break it to you.

“What’s wrong?” You probed farther, puzzled and confused.

A sudden gust of air startled you, encircling you in what felt like a violent blast. And then, his voice was heard again.

“We must talk.”

While your ears picked up the words, your mind interpreted them in a myriad of ways, yet only one conclusion was plausible in your inner thoughts. A mental explosion was triggered, and you envisioned the whole world around you breaking in pieces.

“You are suffocating me, I’m tired of you.”

“This isn’t going anywhere, it is better if we end it.”

The recollections of your past breakups echoed in your head, reviving the pain that you had not been able to annihilate from your heart.

Although you were in the realm of your subconscious, you could feel the blood departing from your face, your soul being drained of its life-force.

You collected all your strength to brace yourself and speak. “Okay.”

The voice inside you murmured encouraging and confident remarks to ease your discomfort, but it was competing with another sound that rang out with immense resonance. It was a chaotic clatter of opposing opinions - one voice claiming that you were about to be abandoned, while another insisted that Morpheus would remain by your side. The conflict between these thoughts tore you apart, flooding you with doubts and uncertainties.

"There are rules that we, as the Endless, must abide by at all costs,” Morpheus expressed. "I myself have disregarded one of these rules.”

On top of your rising heart rate, the atmosphere also underwent a drastic change. The clear and vibrant blue in the sky was replaced by a washed-out and monotonous gray.

You summoned all the courage necessary to put your question into words. “Which rule did you break?”

"A relationship between a mortal and an Endless such as I is prohibited.”

He turned back to face you, and his gaze dug deep into your soul. As his revelation reverberated in your ears, you came to a full realization that your bond with the King of Dreams was a colossal blunder right from the beginning. A bond that you nourished and cherished for so long, nothing but a mistake he was ready to conclude.

Enduring another heartbreak was just too much for you, too difficult to accept once again.

“Oh.” Your legs started to tremble, prompting you to back away. “Wake me up.”

“Y/N-”

"Please, I can't do this. If you want to leave me, then allow me to maintain a bit of dignity. Just this once.”

As you continued to retreat and your nervousness grew greater, Morpheus was visibly baffled, taking note of the sheer impact of his words on your mind and body.

He quickly raised his hand to stop you. “Wait, you misunderstand me,” he proclaimed.

“You’re not going to dump me?”

A small glimpse of reassurance shone through his solemn facade. “Let me explain.”

A ray of hope suddenly appeared, as you were given the option to reconsider and ponder your previous conclusions.

Your arms crossed over your chest to reflect your inner tension. “All right, tell me more.”

As if searching for the most suitable thing to say, Morpheus nodded and directed his eyes towards the ground.

"You are not the first human that I have grown fond of,” he declared. "Ten thousand years ago, I met the queen of the City of Glass, the place where mankind was first born. Her name was Nada.”

Your cognitive processing was suddenly derailed at the unexpected phrase "ten thousand years ago”. Sometimes it was easy to forget how old Morpheus actually was.

“We fell in love. And through our connection, she was doomed to a dire fate.”

You swallowed a mouthful of air. “What happened?”

The King of Dreams continued his tale, revealing the consequences that his intimate relationship with Nada had brought. "Her entire city was utterly eradicated, destroyed by the sun itself.”

A gasp filled with shock and disbelief escaped from you as you covered your mouth.

"The guilt has consumed her. She wanted to end it, to depart from my presence," he proclaimed, his tone filled with melancholy. "I refused to accept her leave.”

A distant rumble of thunder was heard from above, its loud boom breaking the silence and adding to the atmosphere of a looming tragedy.

“My infatuation for her was my punishment,” he stated. "I did not permit her to abandon me, forcefully making her stay by my side. In the end, she flung herself from a cliff, perishing in front of my eyes.”

As Morpheus painted an all-too-clear picture of Nada’s heartbreaking demise, you could feel his pain as if it were your own. The mental image alone was too much for you to bear, causing an immense feeling of misery within your soul.

“It’s horrible.”

His darkened, tormented eyes, reflected the suffering he had been through for millennia, and he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. The burden still remained, igniting the grief he held after losing a love that was not meant to be.

“I perceived rejection as an offense. I sought for her spirit in the Sunless Lands, making her an offer that I thought she could not refuse.”

You tensed. “What kind of offer?”

“I wished to make her my Queen, Goddess of the Dreaming.”

Knowing that you were not the sole object of Morpheus's affection wounded you in more ways than one. A jolt of jealousy rose inside you as you listened to him speaking of another woman in such a warm-hearted and caring tone. But then, you quickly dismissed the sudden surge of envy that overcame you, realizing that you were getting mad over a person who was no longer among the living.

You cleared your throat. “And…?”

“She declined my proposition, again. As a result, I condemned her to hell.”

“You sent her soul… to hell…?”

As you looked deeply into Morpheus's eyes, you could see the anger behind their dim light. You remembered the words of Teleute, who had alluded to Morpheus and his darker side in past centuries.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Your expression and emotion were both subjects of his intense observation, which he was using to gauge how you were perceiving the choices he had made.

“I will not commit the same mistake,” he replied.

“So that’s what I am to you? A mistake?”

The frequency of thunderclaps dramatically escalated, while gusts of wind increased in force. It remained uncertain whether the altered surroundings in the realm of dreams were mirroring your own turmoil or Morpheus’ state of mind.

"No, I am. Retaining you by my side would be unacceptable given the risks I am subjecting you to.”

You contemplated the given explanation, trying to recall a moment, any moment, when you had felt unsafe in his proximity. The sole emotion you felt around him was security.

“I am willing to offer you the opportunity to decide what is most favorable for you.”

“Why?”

"Because… I do not want to hurt you.”

The grimace distorting his facial traits felt akin to a gut punch. You thought over what he had revealed, and the fact that he had sent his raven to monitor your condition for a reason that had been completely unknown until now.

“Matthew,” you realized. “That’s why you sent him to the Waking World. You were worried about me. Because of this.”

“I was.”

Warmth and joy replaced your negative emotions, swelling into your chest and compassing your beating heart with tranquillity. You reached forward, placing your palm on his chest and offering him a gentle smile. "Morpheus, I don't need to decide. I am exactly where I want to be, and this is not going to change.”

Your statement caused the Endless to look dazed and bewildered once more. He was stunned, appearing as someone who anticipated a different end result.

“Did you not listen to me? About what I have done?” he queried.

“No no, I did. You were perfectly clear.”

“Then why?”

You sighed. "Look, I won't lie to you. Your reaction to Nada was a little too extreme, and sending her to hell as a form of revenge for her rejection was rather petty and undoubtedly a wrong move.”

He lowered his eyes downward, attentively listening to you like a scolded pup.

"But I can at least understand the reasoning behind it. You didn't make that decision because you were evil. You did it because you were heartbroken.”

Anyone would tell you that you were insane, that similar behavior would amount to a toxic relationship. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking of Morpheus as an ethereal entity that was still striving to learn.

He tensed up, yearning for your closeness as you kept moving your hands along his chest and shoulders.

"I can see how much this still weighs on you even after all these millenia. You are always observing, changing. I just know that if you could go back in time, you would do everything differently.”

He shut his eyelids. “You are not safe with me.”

“Yes I am.”

“You should fear me. Despise me.”

“And why is that?”

“They all do.”

“They are all wrong.”

“I am far more terrible than you believe me to be.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

A moment of calm ensued between the two of you. Morpheus's gaze was stern and forceful, though at some point, his inscrutable visage waned, and an impish grin appeared on his lips. You mimicked him, smiling broadly and trading a glimpse of mutual understanding.

"You are quite determined," he stated to you.

Giggling, you leaned your forehead against his, while the wind quieted down and the sky reopened, bringing back its clarity and vivid colors.

"I just don’t see how anything bad could happen to me, when I feel like it is the exact opposite," you said. "Morpheus, my father was going to die, and my life was so miserable that I gave everything up. I had nothing. I was afraid of the unknown and went into hiding, working like a robot for money. But then you came into my life, and for the first time, everything started to change for the better.”

His eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your footing before their magnificence.

So beautiful…

“Today I got a call from an old friend of mine. She wants to hire me, you know? Not for just any job, but for the one I have always dreamed of.”

He deliberated on the matter, moving his eyes from side to side as he pondered on your words.

"Why do I feel blessed, if it's true that being with you means I am bound to an existence of tragedy and misfortune?”

He held his gaze at the far-off scenery, furrowing his brows with contemplation. You patiently waited, listening to the now calmer waves in your vicinity.

"There is a possible justification for that," he eventually said. “Lucienne conducted research on you at my request.”

Taking a step back to scrutinize him, you allow him to proceed with his explanation.

“It would seem that your lineage is directly associated with Paregoros.”

You endeavored to fathom it, but it was a name that you had not heard of, or read about anywhere.

“Excuse my ignorance, but… who would that be?”

“She is the personified spirit of consolation, comfort and soothing words. A companion of Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Peitho, the Goddess of persuasion.”

Despite the many books about Greek mythology you had come across, you couldn’t recollect any significant information regarding this particular figure.

“And I am related to her? What does that make me?”

“You are mortal. But you seem to possess certain qualities of her, which perhaps will spare you the cruel fate that is otherwise customary for any human I dare to come close to.”

People had conveyed to you that your magnanimity would become your undoing, as being empathetic would be inevitably overlooked as a virtue, but rather perceived as something to exploit. Could it be that your goodness truly derived from an ancient deity you descended from? Did your compassion and kindness towards Morpheus make you immune to the unjust and absurd godly rule that once condemned the one he loved?

Regardless of your background or how you were related to Paregoros, being with Morpheus was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

"Come what may, I have made my choice.”

Morpheus was about to respond, but his mouth sealed without uttering a sound and his hands fell to his side.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, not even I can guarantee the truthfulness of what could be nothing but a theory.”

You grasped the edges of his coat and inched yourself closer, brushing your mouth against his. Despite his concerns, Morpheus didn’t display any reluctance, reciprocating the kiss and relaxing in your embrace.

“When my intuition speaks, it is seldom incorrect,” you explained. “I may be only human, but will you trust me on this?”

He refrained from saying anything else, knowing that protesting wouldn't really work with you. Instead, he declared his assertion with another soft kiss on your lips, savoring their taste and breathing on your skin.

Finally, Morpheus relinquished the conversation.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," you claimed. "You don't realize the effect that you have on me.”

A small grin sprang up on the corner of his lips. “And how do you behold me, my love?”

You deliberated about how to express it, and the sole thing that came to your mind was something overwhelmingly inappropriate. Nevertheless, you were still within The Dreaming, standing with Morpheus in a domain that was merely for you and nobody else. Was it truly that heinous for you to show him your affection in the way that you had envisioned? The more you pondered about it, the fewer reservations you had on that regard. It was something that you never particularly liked to get into with your past lovers, but the fact that you felt so strongly about it now simply proved that Morpheus was of utmost importance in comparison.

And thus, you provided permission for yourself to proceed.

As the heat rose and crawled up your cheeks, you allowed your hands to glide over his torso while following them all the way down, gradually kneeling upon the sand with your knees.

"What are you doing?" he asked, tracking your movements with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

“I am kneeling for my King,” you answered. “I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

A part of you still felt uncertain, but when you caught sight of the familiar sparkle in his gaze, you no longer needed to question yourself.

The sand was incredibly soft and comfortable, providing you with its delicate and glittering particles. You laid your palms onto his stomach and held them there for a moment, moving them up and down as you pulled up his shirt simultaneously. As his pallid skin emerged from under the black material, you took note once again of his lean yet clearly defined muscles.

You moved slowly, placing gentle and delicate kisses on his abdomen, making your way towards his navel. You felt him twitching beneath your touch, but he didn't push you away.

You looked up a few times and noticed that he was completely absorbed in the moment, breathing faster and focusing solely on you. You continued with the same ministrations until you felt prepared to move things ahead, bringing your hands to his thighs to offer calming caresses through the fabric of his trousers.

You took your time, and Morpheus didn’t complain. You stayed there in silence, sliding your fingers in a repetitive motion while listening to the ambient sounds generated by the Dream World. Everything felt so real that for a moment, you wondered if you were truly asleep.

You glided your hands around, and the unmistakable bulge in the front of his pants let you know that he was getting ready for more. Your fingers quivered slightly as you loosened the button and pushed the zipper down, and it was as if the progression of time had decelerated now that there was nothing left between you and your ultimate destination.

Tentatively, you searched his clothes and felt the tips of your fingers graze his forming erection. You took a deep breath and slowly, gently, released the appendage from its confinement, setting it free in the open air. Morpheus grunted inaudibly, holding his ground and repeatedly clenching his fists.

You looked upon his hardened member, already standing proudly in front of you and beckoning for your attention. You began to move your hand over the base, gradually bringing it up until the crown was fully covered and engulfed in your palm. Then, you slowly moved your hand back down, enstablishing a steady pumping rhythm. You repeated the process a few more times before finally picking up the pace, alternating between tight strokes and gentle massages that heightened the warmness and size against your skin.

When you halted your activities, you looked up at his face for a confirmation. You spotted his pink, parted lips, and a pair of blue eyes that shimmered like stars in broad daylight. Even though he remained in complete silence, his unspoken request was loud and clear. “Give me more.”

You inhaled deeply, setting your dominant hand around the base and bringing your lips closer to his glistening tip. You let your tongue explore its surface, dancing around the glans and tracing a wet path down to the taut underside. You felt it throb and pulse as you held it firmly between your fingers, urging you to continue. You wanted to grant him the apex of whatever you were capable of giving, knowing that even that would never be enough to repay him for what he was bestowing to you. Every kiss, every sensual swipe of your tongue, and every caress that you were delivering was purely for his physical satisfaction. Meanwhile, the sense of completion that you were receiving from him was permeating every minute of your day and night, even in his absence.

Once you were satisfied with the preliminaries, you finally closed your lips around the head and adjusted your position. As you placed your other hand over his stomach, you made sure that the shirt would not get in the way. You continued with the stroking motions all over his length, while tenderly suckling at the top with sweet abandon.

You could feel his fingers intertwining with the back of your hair, his nails scratching your nape deliciously. He didn't try to draw you closer or push his hips forward. Although you could tell that he was gradually beginning to feel impatient, you relished how he enticed you, encouraging you to proceed even further.

And so, you did just that, moving your head downward and taking more of him into your mouth. You relaxed your palate and throat to invite his girth as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks whenever you slid up, and then lowered again. His grip around your hair tightened considerably, but he didn't hurt you. On the contrary, he was following your head's movements with enthusiasm and appreciation.

You hummed softly around him, breathing through your nose. You massaged the part that you couldn't reach, causing his legs to quiver and become rigid. His abdominal muscles tightened under your palm, twitching whenever you drew little circles upon them with your fingertips. You suckled harder, allowing his tip to touch the back of your throat and moving your knees closer to his body for a better angle.

The occasional eye contact, along with the way he refrained himself from choking you in the process, was making you absolutely feral. But at the same time, it was so unbelievably tender that you wished to continue the activity for hours. No other man had demonstrated such decency towards you.

The magnificent landscape surrounding you combined with the tranquil music played by the ocean, made even that appear as something wonderfully romantic. Morpheus' groans were low and deep, almost fully concealed by the waves running back and forth along the shore.

Considering how his length tensed up and pulsed, you could tell that he was getting close to his awaited release. You pulled his member out when your lips started to hurt from the exertion, lingering on his tip once more with gentle kitten licks and loving pecks. As you let your tongue explore other areas, you noticed how increasingly sensitive he seemed to be the moment you stimulated his frenulum, lavishing it with love and consideration with each fiery kiss you granted him.

You were loving every second of it in a way that you couldn’t adequately describe.

When you took him back in, you carefully increased the pace and applied more pressure to your cheeks. Morpheus was about to tumble over the edge, muttering your name and receiving an affirmative hum from you in response. You were relentless, moving your hands in perfect sync with your mouth, letting him shake and stiffen without withdrawing.

The earth below roared and quavered when his orgasm made its way from his core and through his entire being. His hips jerked a few times and he struggled to keep himself upright, yet his feet remained perfectly planted on the ground. You continued to bob your head up and down, feeling every single aftershock that forced him to throw his head back in utter ecstasy. You wanted to take all he had to give.

You could barely let him go with a sweet wet pop and fix his trousers, as he immediately reached down to take your arms and effortlessly lift you up. His mouth was on yours before you could properly stand, devouring your lips and pressing you to his chest. You didn't waste any time, engulfing his neck between your arms and losing yourself in the kiss.

As soon as you caught your breath, you inquired,"Was that too bold?”

Morpheus was amused, unable to contain his mischief and satisfaction. “I must confess, I fid this side of you intriguing.”

You chuckled while capturing his fingers with your own, his remark causing you to exude a tinge of blush and boosting your self-confidence. It was as if the previous conversation never actually happened, and the two of you proceeded along the coast a moment later.

You moved in tranquil quiet with him, staring at the moist grains of sand that dissolved below your feet. You didn't know when you discarded your footwear, nor how your outfit had switched from your mundane jeans and sweater to a bohemian dress you were incapable of recognizing.

The water was reaching your ankles now, the coolness of the waves greeting your skin and drenching the bottom of your clothing, but Morpheus didn't seem to mind.

“There’s something I meant to ask you,” you said, advancing and moving further towards the ocean, attracted by the crystal clear surface in front of you.

“What is it that you wish to know?”

“It’s about my father. Or rather, his unnatural fast recovering. Does it have anything to do with you?”

Your hand partially slipped free from his grasp as you sinked more into the water, but the physical connection was kept intact with his thumb stroking your knuckles.

“I did not cure him, if that is what you are asking me. Being in the presence of an Endless can affect a mortal’s health and provide longevity. So perhaps, your connection to me has also influenced him.”

You considered the information he offered for a few moments. “Is that possible?”

“It can be.”

The medication that Doctor Mills had prescribed was meant to exhibit its effects within some period of time. However, after less than three days of its usage, your father was so full of energy that you witnessed him dancing in the living room, much to everyone’s disbelief. At that time, you had been spending many of your leisure moments in the basement with Morpheus. Could it be true that his presence had an impact on your father in an roundabout way, speeding up his otherwise gradual recovery, assuming there would be one?

You weren't exaggerating in the slightest when you asserted that Morpheus was bringing nothing but benefits into your life.

You smiled, allowing the seawater to reach your waist. As you took a backward step, you descended deeper into the ocean. It felt chilly, but invigorating, just like the ones you immersed yourself in the Waking World.

Morpheus stood on the seashore, his polished shoes and the edges of his pants absorbing the waves. He looked at you curiously, observing the way your wet dress adhered to your figure.

"Come on," you urged him. "Why don't you join me?”

He released a quiet chuckle, moving forward with a couple of short strides. His lengthy coat fluttered on the surface of the water, following his movements and widening like a voluminous cape. You gently caressed his cheeks with both of your soaked and chilled hands, leaving little droplets all over his face. You then briefly pressed your lips onto his, reveling in the sensation of him wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you downwards.

You slowly plunged into the depths of the ocean, as the two of you descended deeper into its underwater domain. You could still breathe through your nostrils and lungs, taking in the beautiful sights of colorful corals and mysterious marine creatures swimming up close to you. His hair wafted in unison with yours, and both your coat and dress perceptibly prolonged and expanded in a swirl of fabric.

The ambient noises were faint and muffled, yet the moment was so enchanting that you felt like a princess living an actual fairytale.

Your eyelids grew more and more weary, and you felt as if you were about to be engulfed in an effulgent radiance emanating from underneath. Morpheus brushed a sizable portion of hair off the side of your neck with his fingers, bringing his mouth close to your ear, and then blowing softly in it. A slew of bubbles emerged from his mouth, tickling your face and fluctuating above you.

His voice reverberated through your brain, echoing all around and rattling the seaweed, which cleared a path for both of you to advance.

“This dream is over.”

Prior to meeting Ella at Corbyn&Jones, you selected your most businesslike outfit and crafted the best resume you were capable of writing. Even though she wasn't obliged to peruse through your former employment backgrounds, you wanted to maintain a formal image in the viewpoint of the CEO and other members of the company.

You composed a quick response on your phone to Hob's message, sent with the purpose of offering encouragement and wishing you good luck for the interview.

The building wasn't especially far away, therefore, you boarded the subterranean railway for a few stops before leaving it and continuing on foot. The weather was once again more agreeable than you could hope for, with a sun that wasn't too scorching for the time of the year, and a soft breeze that gently brushed against your body on your march.

You proceeded through several avenues, cutting through a garden and wandering beneath the trees. As soon as you spotted the structure in the distance, you retrieved your phone from your bag and opened a new conversation with Ella’s number. Your heartbeat was already quickening, partly because of the anticipation and eagerness, partly due to your usual anxiety that regularly crept inside you.

You froze, pausing the typing process the moment you detected a substantial shift in your surroundings. The sky grew extremely dark all of a sudden, and the vegetation seemed to get lost behind a thick layer of mist. It was as if you were teleported to a distinctly different area, the atmosphere was becoming heavy and you could even hear someone calling your name.

It was a combination of three different female voices blaring in the air and originating from all directions. You had to reassure yourself by counting your fingers and pinching your cheek to confirm that you didn't find yourself in the middle of yet another nightmare. You turned around to listen to the reverberations, hastening your breathing and taking a step in the back direction. As you once again turned to face the front, you were shocked to see three women with varying ages in front of you, each of them attired in dark garments and having their hair blowing in the elevated and much cooler air.

"Who are you?" You inquired, directing your gaze from one woman to another.

“Questions, questions,” said the one in the middle.

“We are the Fates, dear,” the younger lady responded.

“Or ‘The Kindly Ones’, if you may,” stated the eldest of the three.

You counted upon Morpheus to intrude on your slumber and disrupt the vision, yet at the same time, you were certain that you were awake and not in his realm.

“What do you want from me?” You were astonished to hear your own voice echoing so strongly, as if you were conversing in an empty broad domain.

The younger woman approached, she was incredibly beautiful, yet in her bearing, there existed something tremendously suspicious. “Poor Y/N, so naive and lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Yes you are, my child,” the middle woman spoke again, taking a step forward. “We came to warn you, little one.”

You sensed the impatience escalating, since your primary concern was to arrive at the firm on time.

“Look, no offence kind ladies, but I’ve got business to do right now.”

“Oh, but you shall want to listen,” the elder woman interjected. “It is Lord Morpheus that you must exercise caution with.”

You detected a chill coursing through your veins. “Morpheus…?”

They all smiled at the same moment, and in a way, it was profoundly horrifying.

“A father and a husband once, all is gone owing to his very deeds.”

A father…. and a husband…

A shudder traversed your spine as soon as you heard that statement.

The younger lady inclined her head. "My darling, how many truths is Dream concealing from you?”

You were confused regarding their plans, yet it was transparent that Morpheus was not regarded favorably by them.

“With all due respect, whatever he chooses to talk about or refrain from discussing with me is not your concern by any means,” you uttered curtly.

“Foolish child,” the oldest woman's voice boomed with such force that a surge of energy erupted from her, forcing you to falter. “Trust has a flimsy string.”

Your perplexity was escalating further. “What is it that you’re trying to say? I don’t have time for your riddles.”

The beautiful woman intervened once more. “Calliope was deprived of her dear offspring because of him.”

He was married to Calliope, the Muse and daughter of Zeus?

“The boy-child, Orpheus, went to Hades for his lady-love,” claimed the oldest Fate. “He was torn apart for his sacrilege. Yet, this is an old tale that you know very well, little one.”

You reflected upon the story of the legendary musician and poet, presented in a variety of ways through the pages of novels containing ancient Greek myths. You failed to comprehend how Morpheus could be held accountable for that occurrence, if any of those stories portrayed the truth.

“Morpheus holding secrets about his past is not a reason for me to lose trust.”

"Oneiros shall deceive you, Y/N," stated the younger Fate. "After all, he betrayed his own son and former wife, once.”

You pressed your lips together, sensing a rising uneasiness rushing up from your stomach and permeating your body.

“You don’t even know me. Why do you care so much about my relationship with Dream?”

The Fate in the center parted her lips into a broad smile. “Oh, we do know you, love. For you are the daughter of your mother.”

You felt the blood inside your veins turn icy cold. “My…mother…? What-”

“She does not know yet, sister-self.”

The enigmatic statements of the three women were starting to become more and more irritating. They spoke to you as if they had already mapped out your future and as if they knew more about you than you knew yourself.

You were trying to convey a part of your thought process in your response, but a sudden ringing of a bicycle bell startled you. A random guy pedaled swiftly past you, and upon glancing back at the location in which the trio of ladies stood, they had completely disappeared.

The dark atmosphere and the shadows were non-existent now, everything seemed to be back to normal, as if those events had never actually happened. When you glanced down at your device, your unsent message was right there on the display, and the clock on the screen exhibited the exact same time as before. The few minutes you spent in the company of the Fates, regardless of how real or hallucinatory they might have been, evidently took place in a separate dimension or they managed to pause the flow of time.

"What in the world was that?”

You felt puzzled, uncertain, with countless thoughts creating an uproar in your mind. Even so, there were other mattered that required your focus now, and you did not intend to be tardy for what could be a once-in-a-lifetime career-oriented breakthrough.

You typed the remainder of your message and sent it, resuming your walk toward the structure with a strange feeling deep in your heart.

Morpheus was once married to a Muse, and together they had a son.

Eventually, they were both lost, by one means or another.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 10 ->

Read on AO3!

[walkswithmyfather]

“🙏❤️❤️ HOPE ❤️❤️🙏”

“My HOPE is in the LORD always

Psalm 42:5 “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.”

This is such a beautiful verse read it and pin it to your heart

Worldly Hope…. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

Biblical hope … Biblical hope has as its foundation faith in God.

The word hope in English definition often conveys doubt.

I hope it will not rain tomorrow

I hope my results test results will be good

I hope we can get together

I hope everything will be ok

BIBLICAL HOPE is a reality and not a feeling.

BIBLICAL HOPE carries no doubt.

BIBLICAL HOPE is a sure foundation upon which we base our lives, believing that God always keeps His promises.

Hope or confident assurance can be ours when we trust the words He who believes on Me has everlasting life

John 6:47 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.

Accepting that gift of eternal life means our hope is no longer filled with doubt.

Hope is a small word, but it is one of the most powerful.

It is powerful because in hope lies the power of the human soul to turn to God and live as if His promises are going to come true.

Psalm 31:24 Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.

Some people when they speak of hope use it as an emotion. They say I am feeling hopeful but true hope is a discipline and a determination to believe in God’s reality and power even when the world seems to be crashing down around us.

The power of hope flies in the face of calamity, saying The world can do its worst to me but still I will hope. My hope is in the Lord. I will know that this is the day the Lord has made and He will take care of me.

The key to surviving any challenge or crisis is hope.

Hope that Jesus loves you.

Hope that He is, right now, working out a solution for you.

Hope that the future you place in His hands will be better than the present you hold in your own.

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

Today take a few moments and practice hope. Hope on the Lord . With its power you will overcome all things.

Isaiah 40:31. “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

During the course of our day there are so many reasons to feel discouraged

When we listen to the news on tv we hear the problems in the world

When we face challenges that seem overwhelming

When we have problems that don’t seem to have solutions.

There are certainly times when we can feel hopeless.

The Bible speaks to us about these times

1 Corinthians 13:13. “And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

The verse above teaches us that all of us need hope.

The verse above teaches us that hope endures

No matter how dark or depressing our circumstances may appear, we always can hope in God.

God wants to give us hope in any situation, no matter how dark things might seem.

But we should not merely hope. God wants us to rejoice in hope!

Paul knew what it was like to have hope in the midst of hopeless situations. A perfect example

Acts 16:25.“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them.”

Acts 16:26. “And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one's bands were loosed.”

See when we look to the world it certainly can provide answers but they only give short term relief.

Know we will be hopeless if we look at circumstances and let the world dictate how we think.

We may go through situations that are threatening, that can cause

Uncertainty, Anxiety, Doubt, Fear

But if we depend on God we can know that He is the source of hope, and we can rejoice in Him and the hope He promises us.

If we have hope we can be filled with joy and peace no matter what is going on in the world.

Today take a moment see the beauty surrounding you and no matter what it is you are going through do not allow yourself to place your hope in the world, the world system, or any human being in the world

Rejoice in the hope that God has given you.

Place your hope in the living God and His eternal power to save and make everything right in His time, in His way.

God is so good . Always keep your hope in the Lord . He goes before you and is always with you. He will see you through everything you go through.”

From: “Beneath The Shadow Of Thy Wings” (FB)

[landwriter]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @tiltingheartand <3 thank you!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

11!

What's your total Ao3 word count?

129,874. Brevity evidently is not my strong suit! Which is also why the rest of this is under a cut.

What fandoms do you write for?

The Sandman! I also just watched Dead Boy Detectives and think I might write a couple little things for it too.

Top five fics by kudos:

Saint Morpheus (11,882 words) - My first fic! Saints and worship

The Death of Translation (10,968 words) - the Language fic

Oaths (60,443 words) - Tam Lin AU and my precious baby. I'm so proud of this one. It's got so much of me in it. Def the first fic I would consider a full send

Border Country (6,100 words) - Clothing, the inherent body horror of being alive, and self-denial. Have always meant to do a sequel for this and may do for S2

Black Shore (3,962 words) - Monsterfucking :-) Weird little beast of a story that came out of nowhere fully formed

All Sandman, all Dream & Hob, haha. Doubt that will change with new fics unless I find a more popular pairing in a more popular fandom to write for

Do you respond to comments?

I do! I love discussing characters and theeeeemes and sharing enthusiasm with people. I love hearing what I've inflicted and I'll thank you for telling me <3 Once I started getting busier I found it a lot harder to keep up, but I treasure all my comments so if you suddenly get a reply like, a year later, you know why!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's for sure The Many Lives of Hob Gadling. Everything else I've written except Border Country has ended, like, tooth-rottingly kind and optimistic and love-filled. But lbr Dream is a man of tragedies. There'll be more

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's such a personal thing, but Oaths has the happy ending I would consider most wonderful sort of happiness. It's not the fluffiest or most fairy-tale (having written just that also), but this specific flavour of joy and peace in terms of experiencing the beauty of the world around you and being just shot full of love. The happiness of growing things and sunrises. Or Just Like Love. From the Corinthian's perspective. He's so happy with the state of things at the end.

Do you get hate on fics?

Only the once! Fortunately everybody else who has hated a fic of mine has been able to find the back button and gone off to read something else or grouse about it in private, which is the correct way of things. There's no reason, ever, to tell an author you disliked their story. They will not be grateful for it no matter how certain and correct you feel in your criticisms. Nobody wins! Sorry! Go tell a friend instead.

Do you write smut?

You betcha I do! The first time I wrote it for Saint Morpheus it felt so unnatural and I was just making a :| face the whole time but now sex scenes are among my favourite things to write. I feel like I've really cum come into my own with them more than any other kind of scene.

Craziest crossover:

I've never done a crossover! I love reading them though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! I mean, not great, etc., but personally I also deeply don't care. I imagine having a job where what I am actually creating & selling for money gets stolen often sort of skews my perspective on my fic getting stolen. It's not a commercial product. It isn't paying my mortgage. I give these words for free and with love. If they end up places I never put them, so be it! Such is the internet.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! 【授權翻譯】翻譯之死 The Death of Translation by Ethiseth. Legitimately one of the highest honours I think a fanfic writer can ever receive <3

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No!

All time favourite ship?

Hob / the world :-)

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My very first WIP for Sandman! I started writing it then joined tumblr the next day, saw some of @messmonte's art, and was off writing Saint Morpheus in short order. Sorry 1989 canon divergence fic! Maybe one day.

What are your writing strengths?

Five dollar words. Long sentences. Big sweeping feelings. Instilling my personal values, i.e. love is real, you are surrounded by beauty at every turn, you deserve the things you want, monologues are a normal and practical form of communication, etc.

What are your writing weaknesses?

God, actually finishing and sharing things, I think. I haven't had enough time in my life lately and it kills me! But it's also such a me problem because I love to worry at and chew on WIPs forever. Writing fast would be so cool. Pew pew pew! New fics left and right. You guys would be buried in them. Man, I wish.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Can run gimmicky but also I love multiple languages in one conversation as subtext so much - I'm torn. Same as accents in that I suspect it's most cases better to just note it in the speech tags, unless you're willing to go through the trouble of inline/hovertext translations, and then at that point it's a bit If You Give A Mouse A Cookie for me where I'll want translator's notes too, maybe some metatextual payoff, etc.

First fandom you wrote in?

Technically FMA, but that's a story for another day hahaha. Sandman, really.

Favourite fic you've written?

Oh golly. Oaths. I did so much for the first time with that story. But it's hard to choose, which is such a nice problem to have. I think it's easy when you've never written fic before for each new thing to mean something different to you!

No-presh tagging @wordsinhaled, @moorishflower, @tj-dragonblade and anyone who wants to do this too - just tag me so I can be nosy <3

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 4/25

What am I feeling today?

A little less overwhelmed, just exhausted and feeling like I’m being pulled in multiple directions. I’m trying to do my best and I really hope it all turns out the way it’s supposed to!

The Humility Of Jesus

There are not too many people who could describe themselves as humble and have a great number of others believe them. But Jesus did just that. Listen to his words:

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭11‬:‭28‬-‭30‬ ‭NIV‬‬

““Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.””

what specifically does Jesus want us to imitate in his character? In this passage it is his gentleness and his humility

Jesus did not do or say anything apart from what his Father desired; he was totally dependent on him. At the heart of being humble is being dependent on God. Jesus was the most humble man ever to live, because no one was ever more dependent on God than he was. No one was ever less self-sufficient than the man who seemingly had the most reason to be so.

One of the subtle manifestations of pride is having a self-sufficient attitude. While I don't personally walk around feeling prideful, I do often see an attitude of self-sufficiency in me, which is clearly pride. For example, I like to work alone. I insisted on doing my own work exclusively as I was growing up. I rarely asked for help. I seldom felt lonely, and my escapist dreams were all about being off alone as a farmer or rancher, building something all by myselfWhether it was for school or any other project, I liked to figure it out myself.

Pride does not ask for, or like to ask for, help

Pride is in total contrast to Jesus. Jesus is humble in heart and sees his need for God. He did nothing, said nothing apart from his dependence on God. And as a result, Jesus was not weary or burdened with life

We can be self-sufficient (and therefore prideful) in our ef- forts to spiritual. We can be self-reliant in trying overcome sin. Consider this passage from 2 Chronicles 7:13-14:

““When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

Sometimes in Scripture the order of things is very impor- tant, and this seems true here. The first step in getting right with God is being humble, not "turning from our wicked ways." Now, if we are humble, we do turn. But we should not start by thinking, "I'll turn from my sins, my wicked ways, and then I (in my self-sufficient way) will have earned my place with God. Then I will be humble." Humble is the last thing we will be!

Remembering that we "were bought at a price" (1 Corinthians 6:20) and understanding that we now belong to God helps us to see that we can no longer be self-sufficient. Because God "sends me," my life will change: I will not do what I want, but what God wants, in every area of my life.

Jesus also shows his humility in the way he served. He served others instead of being self-occupied, even in his times of greatest personal trial

Jesus welcomed children, women, "sinners,” tax collectors, the hurting (lepers, sick) and demoniacs-again, not the associates of the prideful. But Jesus did not just associate with these people, he served them.

There are several telltale signs of self-occupation: Are your prayers mainly about yourself? Are your conversations mainly about yourself? Do you do most of the talking in your interaction with others? Do you rarely serve others in the mundane ways? Are there some things that you just do not you should ever be asked to do? Are you more worried about your position in the eyes of others or in God's eyes? If you are a disciple of Jesus, you will not be afraid of humble service. You will see in his life the glory of service, and you will be ready to take the towel and the basin and wash feet.

Pride offends God by self-exaltation, offends others by self-occupation and damages self by self-deception. This delusion increases until one fancies oneself so high as to be invulnerable. The Bible says a lot about that. Jesus is the opposite at every point.

‭‭Philippians‬ ‭2‬:‭3‬-‭5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:”

Disciples of Jesus must have the greatest commitment to humility

[mlmxreader]

What Nightmares Aren't Meant To Do | Corinthian x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: ok i am so ready for these corinthian fics

all x m! reader pls!!

"It's alright, it's alright, I got you, it's alright"

summary: Corinthian was never meant to be here, he had not come to the waking world for this, but something is keeping him here and he doesn't particularly fancy leaving for very long.

tws: nightmares, swearing

Nightmares weren't supposed to care. Nightmares weren't supposed to sit there with their jaw clenched and their steady hands trembling. Nightmares weren't supposed to have boyfriends. Nightmares weren't supposed to care.

Yet as he swallowed thickly and reached for the light, all that Corinthian could think about was invading your sleeping mind and yanking you away from whatever torture you were going through; he furrowed his brows, watching you carefully for a moment and taking in a harsh breath as he shook his head.

Nightmares weren't supposed to be the protectors.

To feel the urge to protect their boyfriends. He needed to get away, so he left the bed, trudging downstairs and grabbing a glass of water, just something to distract himself, and he waited; he listened out for the signs, the creaking of the bed, a quiet grumble that would echo throughout the walls. No such sign came.

But the sound of 'Pussy' by Rammstein soon quietly played, loud enough for him to catch it, and he put the glass in the sink; it grew louder as he came back to the bed, sitting at the edge of it and not even looking at you as he adjusted his glasses.

"Corinthian?" Your voice was shaking, and when he finally looked at you, he could see the tears in your eyes.

Corinthian nodded, moving to get beside you and letting you snuggle into his side; he wasn't entirely sure where the words came from, they certainly weren't what he was thinking, but he couldn't stop them from spilling from his mouth as he ran his hand up and down your back. "It's alright, it's alright, I got you, it's alright."

You nodded, sniffling and placing your hand on his chest. "It was bad this time."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked, but he was met with you shaking your head. So he didn't push it; he didn't think twice about simply laying there, running his hand up and down your skin and thinking about how he really was not meant to be here.

Nightmares weren't supposed to have boyfriends. Nightmares were not supposed to be soft. He had come into the waking world to kill, to bask in the pleasure of killing. Yet he was here, wondering if he ought to leave, wondering if he was the reason why your sleeping mind was so fucking tortured.

Maybe he was.

Maybe sleeping next to a nightmare in the waking world was causing it; maybe Corinthian should have left, should have backed away and should have gone and found someone to kill and then returned at dawn but... but something kept him there. Something, he couldn't name it, kept him grounded to that spot. Beside you, beside the mortal man he had found himself wishing he could protect from nightmares like him.

'Shake Your Ass-Smoke Your Grass' by Rob Zombie was playing. Corinthian made his mind up, though, putting all of his wonders aside as he grumbled and got himself comfortable beside you; beside a mortal man. He sighed, the feeling of your breath against his skin was like an anchor in a storm sea, the feeling of your soft flesh against his own was like a bag of sand against a rising flood, he grumbled.

He had come here to kill, he enjoyed it and he got more pleasure from it than anything else... but he had somehow become bound to you, and he knew that he would fight off any other nightmare who tried to get to you; he supposed he could go into that realm, when you weren't around, he could go there and he could find who was responsible for your torture, and he could make sure it never happened again.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

Corinthian hummed. "For what?"

"Being here," you said softly. "Thank you... most... most people leave."

But he did leave. If only for a moment, he did leave. But he couldn't tell you that, not right now, and the less you knew, the better. "You're welcome."

A mortal man, of all things; not a demon, or a nightmare, or even a dream. A mortal man. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and daring to smile, a soft laugh escaping him.

"What?" You grumbled.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just... a joke someone told me at the office earlier, but I can only remember the punchline."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[misshallery]

a list of literary references in aitsf: nirvana initiative chapter titles

tidied up this ol' twitter thread. basically: every single chapter title in aini is a reference to a work of literature, i figured out most of them. here's an explanation of where they came from and what they mean. let us begin.

edit: some gaps filled in by the discord user aaabatteries! thank you!

"a strange tale"/"dispossessed"/"alone" (chapter 0) reference 'the turn of the screw' by henry james.

the framing device of this novella is a group of friends reading a manuscript written by someone else. ryuki being interrogated by mizuki is something of a framing device for what we perceive as his 'side' of the story, six years ago. this is also a quintessential piece of gothic fiction, which is famously concerned with the subconscious and repression- two themes aitsf is very interested in!

"anyone imagines"/"ought to know" (ryuki chapter 1) reference the bible verse corinthians 8:2

"If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know"

naix is an ideology that has the power of religion over its believers. this quotation reflects that people who don't believe in the ideology who think they understand the nature of the world (and believe it's real) are ignorant to the fact it's a simulation.

"nothing to be done"/"go" (ryuki chapter 2) reference 'waiting for godot' by samuel beckett

"nothing to be done" is something of a reoccurring joke in the play. much time is spent watching characters act aimlessly, accomplish little, and lack purpose. these chapters in the game have a lot to do with ryuki feeling frustrated by tokiko's indecipherable philosophical ramblings.

"farewell"/"joy for anguish"/"smile for tears" (ryuki chapter 3) reference 'farewell' by anne bronte.

"And who can tell but Heaven, at last, May answer all my thousand prayers, And bid the future pay the past With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?"

this poem is about the pain of saying goodbye to a loved one. of course, "saying goodbye" is a classic euphemism for death. these titles likely reference shoma reckoning with komeji's death. the joy/anguish duo are strange parallel chapters where komeji lives or dies.

"well known"/"mind of god" (ryuki c4 r1) reference 'a brief history of time' by stephen hawking

"If we do discover a theory of everything…it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason—for then we would truly know the mind of God."

these chapters introduce us to tearer as a character, who is, of course, closely linked to naix and their ideology. naix believe they understood the nature of human existence, and accomplished the goal of knowing 'the mind of god'.

"i found me"/"past its ken" (ryuki c4 r2) reference "the masked face" by thomas hardy

"I found me in a great surging space, I" At either end a door" ... "There once complained a goosequill pen To the scribe of the Infinite Of the words it had to write Because they were past its ken."

this poem is about people with a negative outlook who struggle to comprehend that there is more to the world than they know. shoma only believed in shallow simulation theory to justify his depression. "past its ken" means beyond one's established knowledge.

"not all a dream"/"she was the universe" (ryuki chapter 5 r1) reference "darkness" by lord byron

"I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish'd" ... "Darkness had no need Of aid from them—She was the Universe."

this poem describes an apocalypse that resembles a natural disaster. fitting that this route leads to the explosion ending, involving the collapse of the underground cave. darkness becomes "the universe"- ryuki is traumatised.

"pass mildly away"/"end where i begun" (mizuki c1) reference "a valediction: forbidding mourning" by john donne

"As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go" … "Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun."

this poem is about two lovers parting, but i think the game uses it to reflect platonic relationships. kizuna has lost bibi. bibi lost mizuki. mizuki lost date. family members who love each other deeply have been apart for a long time.

"the expense of spirit"/"hell" (mizuki chapter 3) reference sonnet 129 by william shakespeare.

"The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action..."

this poem theorises that after people satisfy their lust (their desires), they're left with shame. this could be a metaphor for chikara's experiments, but he doesn't seem to feel shame. i think it's about mizuki wanting answers about the institute until she gets them and they're painful.

"all living things"/"of arms and of man" (mizuki chapter 4 m2) references virgil's "the aenid".

"I sing of arms and of the man, fated to be an exile, who long since left the land of Troy and came to Italy to the shores of Lavinium"

i think a parallel is drawn between lien and the protag of the aenid, aeneas. he flees the fall of troy and travels to rome, becoming the original descendant of the ancient romans. lien escapes the 'tragedy' of his life of crime and becomes something of a hero to kizuna.

"who's there"/"bid the soldiers shoot" (mizuki chapter 4 m2/m3) reference the first and final lines of william shakespeare's "hamlet".

the first line is spoken by a guard who hears the ghost of hamlet sr. in this route, jin's corpse is found in the freezer... not quite a ghost. the final line is spoken by fortinbras, an invading prince, upon storming the palace and finding the corpses of the whole cast. he commands the shots to commemorate the deaths of the royalty. lien and kizuna escape among the gunfire of chieda's armed goons... some commemoration.

"all that we are" (mizuki c5 m2) is a buddha quote.

“All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts and made up of our thoughts. If a man speak or act with an evil thought, suffering follows him as the wheel follows the hoof of the beast that draws the wagon…. If a man speak or act with a good thought, happiness follows him like a shadow that never leaves him.”

this chapter precedes gen and amame's end. gen highlights that he considers amame to be a naturally kind and loving person in a way that others haven't been towards him. this quotation implies that good things follow kind people, which doesn't follow considering the tragic end amame gets here.

"sweet silent thought" (mizuki chapter 5 m3) references shakespeare's sonnet 30

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste

this poem is about regrets. when you think "sweet silent thoughts" (contemplate your life), you feel unhappy and consumed by what-ifs. interesting that this chapter is the direct opposite of the poem- lien and kizuna take their chance and run away together. no regrets!

"births"/"the end of craving" (mizuki c5 m1) is a buddha quote once more.

simply put, to reach the end of craving is to achieve the titular nirvana and a higher state of being.

"braver than all flowers" (epilogue) references "proof of immortality "by william carlos williams

"for there is one thing braver than all flowers; richer than clear gems; wider than the sky"

this is a sort of humorous poem about how the one thing that humans throughout history have in common is ignorance. maybe it's a ref to how the mizukis used their wit and investigation skills to overcome that ignorance and win the day?

"all this happened, more or less" (ryuki diverge) references the opening line of slaughterhouse-five by kurt vonnegut.

this is regarded as a crazy opening line for a crazy novel. it's the literary equivalent of "well, that happened" for better or worse, much like this ending.

the only currently missing reference is 'traveler'/'left behind'.

[ilovewhiteroses]

Do You Want What I Want?

Pairing: The Corinthian x Ryan (OC) Genre: Fluff, smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, cursing Rating: 18+ Note: My dear friend, Catchy @i-like-the-eyes gave me idea for this fic, plus they inspired and named Ryan🥰

Ryan, a young musician went out with his friends, but ended up spending the rest of the night with a handsome, interesting man…  

It was a pleasant evening and the annual summer carnival was taking place in the small town. Lots of people went there, no wonder, because one could spend their time well. Ryan, a young lutenist, went with his friends who were artists themselves. Among them were painters, singers, photographers and illustrators.

As soon as they entered the event, they immediately noticed the stalls with handmade works and homemade delicacies. They went over there and some admired the wonderful wood carvings and decorative objects, while others tasted the drinks and cheeses made by the locals. They began to think about what their next stop should be.

"I know! Let's go drive bumper cars and then eat cotton candy!" exclaimed Leni, the painter, enthusiastically. Ryan and the others agreed and after spending their time there, they went for a carousel ride. The young man enjoyed the evening, he felt as if he had flown back to his childhood.

"So guys, what should we do now?" he asked his friends a bit later. There were so many other things they wanted to try that they decided to split up and everyone would go where they want to and then meet at the entrance when they are done. Ryan quickly found the restroom, which was surprisingly quite cultured, then went back to explore the carnival. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, checked it and saw a new email. The surprised lutenist sat down on an empty bench to read it.

We'd be honored to have you as our musical guest at the annual Music For The Youth event, where we present kids the beauty of music.

He smiled to himself, since lately he has been getting more and more requests and he was very happy about it. While he was on his phone, he heard a man's voice.

"Hello! Can I sit here?" he asked politely and Ryan looked up. Standing in front of him was a tall blond man wearing slacks and a suit jacket, a stylish contrast to his black t-shirt and jeans combination.

"Um, sure, you can sit down." he answered him. As the man sat down, Ryan quickly put the phone back in his pocket. The man crossed his legs, settled himself, then offered his hand to Ryan.

"My name is Cori." he said as Ryan shook his hand and introduced himself. "Your name is beautiful. I'm glad to meet you. Did you come to the carnival alone?” Cori asked.

"No, I came with my friends, we just split up for a while because everyone wanted to see things and try them." Ryan replied, rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly. He never really liked to communicate with strangers, but at the same time, he didn't want to be a jerk by turning the guy down with some silly nonsense.

"Oh I see." Cori said with a big smile and pushed the sunglasses up his nose with his index finger. "Is there a part you haven't been to yet?"

Ryan found the man's directness strange, he didn't understand why he was so nice to him. What’s the worst that could happen? He had previously taken a few Krav Maga classes, at most if he thinks the situation is suspicious, he uses what he has learned.

"Well, uh, I haven't been to the shooting gallery yet." he replied, then looked at the man's sunglasses, which made him want to slap himself on the forehead. Before Ryan could say something else, Cori jumped up from the bench enthusiastically.

"Then come, let's not waste time!" Ryan also got up from the bench and was thinking that there must be a good reason why Cori is wearing sunglasses even at night.

They arrived at the agreed location and the target shooter told them the rules.

"Okay, gentlemen. You have to shoot with this toy gun, which has sponge bullets. You have to hit these fast-moving wood ducks, but you have to be clever, because only the ones with the number wins. Well, which one of you wants to try his luck?” he asked, rubbing his palms. Cori raised his hand.

"Excuse me for asking, but are you sure about this?" Ryan asked in shock. "Aren't those sunglasses too dark?"

"Don't worry, I can see perfectly, and my other senses are also extremely sophisticated." Cori replied with a laugh.

Okay then, Ryan thought to himself and put his hands in his pockets. Target shooting guy handed Cori the toy gun, then stood aside. Cori stretched out his arm and waited for the numbered winged animals to come, then shot. After a while, he got so into the game that he even stuck out his tongue a little and fired all the bullets. Ryan was very amused by this sight, he thought it was pretty cute. The shooting gallery man showed him and Cori what prizes there were to choose from.

”Is there anything you would like, Ryan?” Cori asked kindly.

The musician started thinking. The selection was not too exciting, especially for an adult, as most of them were designed for children. In the end, Ryan decided on a red toy guitar, because it somewhat reminded him of a lute.

He started to feel more comfortable with Cori, he even went to have hamburgers with him, and found himself forgetting about his friends and what they agreed on. He quickly wrote in the group chat that he was tired and took a taxi home.

"I hope this is not a problem for you." Cori said a little worried.

"Oh, don't worry, it's happened before, they'll understand." Ryan told him, and with that, he silenced his phone. Now he just wanted to focus on Cori.

He found him very fascinating.

"Speaking of going home, would you like to walk home with me? If you’d like, we could have a few drinks, then we will see." he said with a suggestive smile. Seeing this, Ryan gulped, but was excited at the same time.

It was clear what Cori wanted.

"Okay, let's go. How about I leave this guitar here? I don't need it anyway." he told Cori, who shrugged, thinking Ryan does what he wants. As they made their way out, Ryan set the small instrument down by the entrance so a child would take it.

The streets were already dark and only the street lamps were on. Ryan wished he could see more of Cori's face because he liked what he had seen of him so far. As they got closer and closer to his apartment, Ryan's heart began to beat faster. They talked on the way. He found out that Cori is a businessman whose goal is to visit as many places and gain as many experiences as possible. There was also talk of instruments and music and, for some reason, dreams and nightmares, which Ryan didn't know what to think of, but he didn't care. He enjoyed listening to Cori, while thinking how hot his speaking voice was, how beautifully his lips moved when he spoke, when Ryan managed to catch him in the lamplight, how graceful his hand movements were while he was explaining... Ryan suddenly felt so hot as the sexual tension was getting more intense between them. He also started to feel his pants getting tighter...

They got to Cori's apartment and went inside, but he didn't turn on the light, the only source of light was the moon shining through the window. Ryan was looking for the switch when Cori pulled him close in the dark and slowly leaned him against the wall.

"Do you want what I want?" he whispered sultryly in his ear, then kissed his neck, which made Ryan’s knees almost giving out.

Of course he wanted it! Ryan had one-night stands before, but felt that this time would be different...

They began to kiss passionately, then Cori reached down to Ryan's erection and began to gently massage it. Ryan did the same to him while kissing his neck. He wanted the blond man so much that he could barely contain himself. He pulled his top off, Cori did the same, then knelt down in front of Ryan. He unbuttoned his jeans, then pulled them down to his ankles together with his underpants. The musician's dick popped out.

"Fuck, you have a nice cock!" Cori said panting as he began to jerk off Ryan, then took his cock into his mouth. Other times he did it much more sensually and slowly, but this time he was too overcome with desire. He took hold of Ryan's cock at the base with his index finger and thumb, then began to suck it, sometimes licking his balls as well. Ryan enjoyed this all with his eyes closed and ran his hands through Cori's hair. He felt close to explosion, and even though he didn't want to cum yet, he couldn't take it anymore and came, Cori could barely swallow the hot result. He took the spectacular penis out of his mouth and looked up at Ryan.

"Damn, baby, that was a lot!" he said appreciatively.

"Fuck, that was hot!" Ryan said panting, gasping for air. If the blow job was this good, how fucking amazing could sex itself be, he thought to himself. Cori stood up and pulled off his pants. Since Ryan was a bit shorter than him, he had to figure something out.

"Get on all fours!" he instructed the young man, who did so. Cori pulled his ass towards him, then grabbed his cock and slapped it against Ryan’s entrance. Before inserting it, he spit into his palm and smeared it over his cock, then slowly inserted himself into his partner. Cori let Ryan adjust to his size. Just like with the blowjob, he fucked fast, he didn't want to be gentle and slow. He wanted wild and crazy sex and he got it. Ryan's knees were pressing against the hard floor, but he didn't care. His ass slammed against Cori's thighs as he reached down to his own cock and began to masturbate. He felt that he was close again, but this time he didn't want to orgasm as quickly as before.

"Wait!" he said to Cori, who paused for a moment. "I want to ride you." Without further ado, Cori pulled out of him and laid on his back, Ryan got up from his position and placed himself on top, letting Cori’s cock back into himself. He raised his knees, put his arms behind him and continued to fuck himself on Cori's cock, who grabbed Ryan's cock and started jerking it. The apartment was loud with their lustful moans, both of them were sweating as if they had run a marathon. Minutes later Ryan was cumming on Cori's belly, and Cori was cumming into Ryan….

Ryan woke up in his yesterday night partner's bed. Cori wasn't there, so he went to look for him in the kitchen and the living room, but he was nowhere to be found. Ryan quickly got dressed and left the apartment. Although he regrets not being able to say goodbye to the handsome, blond man, he was glad that they had a crazy, sexy and fun night together.

Tags: @merry-andrews,  @demi321win-chester

@thefloatingpickle, @delicateteenagerunaway

@sadnessanninthedark, @e-dubbc11

@rayisheree, @tampire

@itsthevelvetline, @moomiman42069

@evenmyhivemindisempty, @a-h-li

@enkelimoonstone, @i-like-the-eyes

[hoodievixen]

Some of the Most Powerful Beings (Dream of the Endless x Female!Reader - no use of Y/N) Oneshot

Summary: When going to the Waking World to retrieve the Corinthian, Morpheus’ wife insisted to come along. The magic of Roderick Burges couldn’t do much against something that was still mostly human.

Warnings: Excessive violence, mentions of blood, mentions of Death

Words Count: ~1.2k

A/N: Little idea I had, and decided to write. In no way is this my best work, but I wanted to share it.

"I'm coming with you," she was quick to declare, stepping to his side.

Morpheus looked to his wife, with a small smile. "While the gesture is appreciated, my love," he told her, "This is my job to do. I will be soon."

"Dream," the Queen sighed, "I love you, but when it comes to the waking world, you are quite dumb. So there is no debate I am coming with." She was born human, and is still more human than anything else. She could easily become something else, something with out an end. Still she held onto humanity. It was barely over a decade into their marriage, Dream did not worry, they had plenty of time.

She gave him the smile that made him swallow his pride. "I'll stay right by your side," she assured him. Her hand emerged from her cloak of shadows and folded into his own. "I promise."

With his free hand he reached over, pulling up her hood over her face. "Dare not to break that promise," he told her.

-------------

Her limbs were sore, as were her joints. Her head was spinning. It reminded her a bit of when Dream would bring her from place to place with his sand, but so much worse. Though she could tell he hand made sure to protect her.

His arms were still around her waist, which had been a tight hold before he fell unconscious. He had even made sure they landed so she were atop him.

"Grab the ruby," she heard the voice of a man hiss as her mind cleared. "Be careful not to erase any of the binding circle."

She gazed up to find a cult of people, surrounding her and her husband. All froze at her movement. She took in her surroundings, a basement lit by candle light. "Do you not have electricity? Or is it just to suit the whole, ritual feel?"

Everyone stepped away from the circle in fear. Except for the boy, who was frozen stunned, hand hovering over the ruby. "I wouldn't touch that," she warned the boy as she stood. "It messes with the mind."

The old man in robes stepped forward as he pulled the boy back. "Death, if you listen to my requests I shall let you and your companion free."

She let out a scoff. "I'm not Death," she told him, "Nor is he. However I would like the know who you are."

"I am the Magus," he declared proudly.

The queen of dreams was not impressed. "That is a made up title that doesn't mean shit," she explained nonchalantly. "You're just a weak man doing things he dose not understand." She took a step forward, now at the edge of the binding circle.

Burgess was quick to take a step back. Though his words did not match his actions. "Dare you to try take another step forward witch, you will find it impossible. That circle can bind the most powerful of beings."

She let out an unamused hum, studying the circle. "Yet humans can pass through it..." she commented, though it could be mistaken for a question.

"There's no reason to hold a human with magic," Burgess scoffed.

"I'm glad," she laughed. "A lot of people say it's useless." They all watched as she continued forward with baited breath. "But I'm blad I've stayed human." She stepped outside the circle.

As everyone was paused in shock, she did not hesitate. She brought a strong right jab to Roderick Burgess' face. All could hear the satisfying crunch of a broken nose. As well as the soft think of teeth falling to the ground. The motion of her pinch caused her hood to fall, revealing her soft human features.

What cult members were men started for her. Much as an expert would, she got into a fighting pose, and suddenly had a knife in her hand. She was the only one her heard the crunch from beneath her foot, internally cringing at her mistake.

Two men rushed her at once. Easily she ducked under their timed grab towards her. As she stepped forward she stabbed the man on the right in the forearm.

"Don't let her break the circle!" Burgess' groaned out over the pain of a bloody broken nose. Too late, what shuffling already happened had disturbed the circle plenty, rendering it useless.

She let out a light laugh that frightened those that heard it. She was excited to do something next. She'd learn few thing she'd be capable of, but what she was best at, and loved the most, was controlling the darkness. Finally the situation arose where she could fight in such.

The room was swallowed in shadows. The last thing they all saw was the smile of the Lady of Nightmare's face. Many cries, thus, and snaps could be heard through the darkness. There was a wet thud through the room before the light returned.

"Dearest," a deep voice echoed through the room. The unconscious figure of Dream of the Endless was now on his two feet, helm in his hand. "You know we can not directly interfere with the lives of humans."

"You can't," she pointed out, painting at him with a bloody knife. "However I am yet to be bound to those rules." At her feet was a growing pool of blood coming from the body who summoned her there.

"Dad," the boy whimpered, gaze locked on the fresh corpse. He had been spared from any violence towards him.

The woman who killed him let out a low hiss. "Shit...." She turned to look at her husband. "Can we keep him?"

"He is human," Dream pointed out. "They do not belong in the Dreaming."

She put her hand on her hips. "What about me?"

Dream sighed. "I have told you the reason countless time, I do not wish to do it again."

She let out a deep breath, coming to kneel before the boy. "Do you have anyone to live with?" she asked kindly, drastically different from the violence she had shown moments before. "Relatives? Family Friends?"

The boy just shook his head. While clearly he was in disbelief, he was taking his father's death rather well. Clearly it hadn't been a good relationship.

"I'll take you in Alex," the man that had been standing behind the gate approached. "While we may have only just met, you have shown yourself to be a wonderful lad, and I would be happy to call you my son."

She turned to look to the man, with a smile that shined like the sun. "Thank you sir," she told him.

She returned her attention to the boy, cupping his cheek with her hand. Frighteningly, they were free of any blood. "My dearest apologies," she said sincerely, "I never meant your life any harm. I'll gift you want I can to apologize for my actions." She placed a light kiss on the boy's forehead. "You will have to most wondrous dreams," she promised.

She stood up, returning to her husband's side. "You're luck astounds me love," he told her under his breath, holding up the leather cord that once held a now shattered ruby.

His wife shrugged at the comment. "Best just call me Lady Luck." Husband and Wife returned home. They planned to finish their original business tomorrow.

Dr. Hathaway brought Alex back to London with him. It didn't take long before he was adopted and the Doctor's son. Rumors spread of what happened that night, but the ones who were there, didn't understand it themselves. Alex, wanting answers, dedicated his life to studying folklore an myth, his name forever to be remember in the field long after his death.

[rriavian]

So @jessamydreams-deactivated202311 sent me an ask but it disappeared before I could answer it!

No idea what I did wrong but it might be the deactivation. Thought I'd make my answer into a separate post :) I think they are now @jessamydream but I will remove the tag if not. I've used the questions they asked as little subheadings so hopefully this will all make sense.

What are the Corinthian's feelings towards Jessamy and Lucienne?

In your ask you mentioned Jessamy flying out of Dream's robe in episode one and I had actually completely forgotten about that! It is very intimate! I also have the most adorable image of her tucked in there and peaking her head out to judge people. During that first scene with the Corinthian she would have been right there listening. Ooh, if he had known it could be a reason for telling Burgess to get rid of her (for having witnessed him being rebuked?) but I also think that it was a practical choice. The Corinthian would have known she’d never give up trying to free Dream.

There might be some degree of regret, but I don’t think he really felt guilty for it. The Corinthian would very much see it as necessary, but it was also quite a self-serving way of soothing jealousy.

Personally I think he’s very jealous of the ravens!

Especially Lucienne. I think there’s this very real tension between them because of it. I do think the Corinthian is like ‘yes well you may be a human soul but he made me and I’ll have something you’ll never have’. The intimacy between an artist and their work I suppose. Though I also think it makes him resent the way Dream dotes on her, because she’s not held to the same standards as he is.

Lucienne has a freedom within the Dreaming that is unique.

She has changed from the role of a raven to that of a librarian, an agency within her place there that the Corinthian doesn't have in his. The ravens aren’t there to shoulder the burden of Dream’s role in the same way that his creations are. While that means the Corinthian can be smug about sharing that, perhaps seeing that he can do far more of the heavy lifting in terms of supporting Dream's responsibilities to the dreamers, he might also feel siloed by it. I’ve got some wips that play with this idea but yeah…jealousy, a bit of resentment, but also a lot of possessiveness.

They both have something of Dream that the other will never have.

How does the Corinthian feel about Dream visiting a human every 100 years?

Ok so I definitely think the Corinthian knew that Dream was meeting someone in the Waking World. But in many ways I don’t think he really cared too much. Based just off of what we see in the show the meetings themselves seemed very contained. It was probably seen more as Dream keeping an eye on an experiment, and I think any jealousy would be folded into the Corinthian’s resentment of Dream’s strict commitment to role.

So I don’t really think it impacted the Corinthian at all—especially given Dream’s nonchalance when Death reminds him about missing the meeting with Hob—I think he’s far more jealous of Dream’s relationship with Lucienne (and Jessamy/Matthew).

Is the Corinthian jealous of Dream's lovers?

In terms of Dream’s other relationships, I really need to finish my fic with Calliope and the Corinthian so I can delve into this a little more.

But in truth I think the Corinthian probably feels similar to how he feels towards Lucienne. When Dream married Calliope he probably saw it as ‘yeah you’re his wife but I’m his favourite creation so how does that really compare’?. A weird mix of jealousy and possessiveness? The same as with all the relationships I think – the Corinthian is very much like ‘he is mine in a way he’ll never be yours’. And he’s proven right most of the time in how quickly the lovers come and go, in how easily (in his eyes) they give up.

I think the Corinthian is satisfied by that, looks down on them, is amused when a new one comes along like ‘oh? How long will you last before you do your best to break his heart?’

The Corinthian knows that eventually they will leave, that the Dreaming will return to how it was before. So maybe there is a little bit of protectiveness too. I think he considers them unworthy, unable to really appreciate all of what Morpheus is, and again that is something he’s consistently proven right about.

Calliope is probably the only one who he felt actually ‘threatened’ by though.

Interestingly enough (to bring this back to your questions about Lucienne and Jessamy) Dream’s longest ‘relationships’ are arguably those he has with his ravens. I think that's why the Corinthian is far more jealous of them then any new/old lover. There’s a degree of compatibility and love between him and them that is incredibly powerful, incredibly unique. And it lasts. There is always loyalty and care there, the ravens understand him, and they all stay with Dream throughout everything he has to be without flinching. Even when things end terribly (as with Jessamy’s death).

Hopefully that answers your questions!

Don’t feel guilty about asking too many! I really enjoyed thinking about this and putting some of my thoughts into words. I always love your questions <3 Please ask as many as you want and, hopefully, this time I won’t take as long as I did to answer the other one you asked me!

[thomotomo]

Hello! For your Corinthian x Reader, I have an idea! What about the Reader having several one-night-stands with him, until someday, deciding to take off his sunglasses. The Corinthian doesn't stop the Reader in time, and so, the eye-mouths are visible... But the Reader is more curious than shocked. :3

A/N: Hi! Thanks for requesting this! I hope you enjoy reading it hehe :) Please don't hesitate to leave me comments and reblog if you did it's what keeps me going 💕

Pairing: The Corinthian x Male reader

Warnings: Slight suggestive themes?

As far as you could recall, since you had started seeing Corinthian he never took off his glasses, even to sleep. Logically you had originally assumed that he was self conscious of his eyes for some reason but you had assumed that now, after a bit more than 3 months of fooling around (and you eventually calling him in a drunken sadness to  ramble about your shitty family) he would've felt more at ease and taken them off.

Sadly for you, you hadn't been able to see behind his dark glasses and even though it was exciting to have him pin you to wherever place you were currently in with his black stare but you yearned to see what was hiding behind those,wondering what you would find.

You were currently in a heated makeout session on your couch with Corinthian, you could feel the rim of his glasses cooling a bit your face. One of your hands sneakily finding it's place on the side of his face. You felt your blonde partner's hands tighten their grips on your waist, making you groan.

In a swift movement you broke the kiss and took off his glasses and put them on your face, completely taking him off by surprise. You looked up back at him, frowning a bit as you felt him tense under you and hiss a bit. As you stared back at his eyes, or well where they should be and instead found two mouths, not exactly but he had teeth were eyes were supposed to found themselves.

You found yourself watching in fascination, one of your thumbs gently brushing under his eye.

"How... How do you see with them?" Corinthian scoffed averting your stare.

"You're supposed to run, scream whatever not... that."

"Well... I just think they make you even more interesting that you already are."

You gently kissed his closed eyelids, keeping to caress the under of his eyes.

"I like spending my time with you. You don't have to hide from me Cor..."

The Corinthian bit his lower lip. He couldn't believe what was happening. You hadn't cowered in fear, hadn't screamed, hadn't even flinched. Instead you had looked at him questioningly, had asked a stupid question he didn't knew the answer himself and you were still in his lap, holding his face, caressing him as if he was the most precious thing you were holding.

His stomach did a flip and he frowned. It definitely was a new thing. Not bad per say, the feeling was just... surprising. He was supposed to be a nightmare, to instigate fear into people, he hadn't ever shown what was hidden behind his glasses without killing them. He was used to having pretty boys in his laps but you were something else entirely, you made him feel more things than he ever felt.

And... what if all of this wasn't a twisted game of Morpheus? What if you were just a dream, an illusion sent to torture him?

Right as if you could sense his inner turmoil, the nightmare felt one of your hands gently start to caress the hairs at the top of his neck, gently coaxing him in a kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

You were fascinated by him? It was impossible for him to understand how you could find him loveable. Your relationship so far had only been a carnal one, well you were hooking up two or three times a week and chatting a little before and after and of course that one and only time where you called him while being wasted but it hadn't gone deeper than that. And yet, it had been unlikely that someone who didn't knew shit about him accepted him as what he was so easily.

Corinthian broke off the kiss smirking and licking his lips, trying to not look caught off guard.

"Not that I don't like your eagerness darling but we... need to talk about this I think."

You hummed as a hand slid under his shirt, grinning cheekily.

"Hm... I don't know... I would rather test a few ideas and have the discussion a little bit later."

You slowly kissed your way down to his neck, gently biting him once you reached the desired patch of skin, smiling as he sighed and threw back his head, letting himself go.

Yeah he could let himself get worshipped and stays for a little longer in this dreamlike situation.

A little while later, when he was regaining his breathe, he watched you as you were laying on his chest, caressing his torso. He wanted to speak about his mouths, but he couldn't bring himself to break the peaceful state you were in and in this instant he decided that he would do anything to protect you from the dangers of the world.

[igotanidea]

Endless glorious purpose.

I'm back guys! Setting my mind on request that was send before. This one is for @emarich7 saying: For some reason I think Loki and Dream would be friends...like Dream would truly know Loki from his dreams and Loki would understand Dream and what he went through while caged up.

Set in the post-TVA and post-restoring Dreaming time.

Apart from one redish light pulsating somewhere In the distance the room was dark. It was hard to say whether the place was big or small or where exactly it was situated, but during his time as a god of mischief Loki has seen a lot of different tricks and shenanigans, most of them caused by him so this… this was nothing that would scare him. Black haired man grinned in his signature facial expression and with all the dignity he could gather took a few steps forward.

“Show yourself!” he exclaimed “whoever you are, I know you are here. Acting like a coward, afraid to reveal your face.”

“Loki of Asgard” cold voice sounded in front of the god “such bold words of you.”

“I am a god.”

“And yet, you are in my realm with no real power here.” Dark clothed figure, which could soon be recognized as a man with chiseled black hair come into the view eyeing the other one carefully but also with dark expression.

“ And who may you be to say so?” Loki scoffed watching the newly arrived man with the mix of curiosity and condescending “who dare to stand against me?”

“I am Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams. Ruler of the nightmare realm.”

“Oh, Lord Morphues than” Loki grinned but the smile did not reach his eyes which stayed cold

“I presume you’ve heard about me.”

“Asgardian’s stories. I remember them vaguely.” Loki raised his head and his horny helmet and green robes appeared in the place of the plain ones making him look more royal and dignified “But if you’re here what does it mean?”

“So conceited yet so unbright”  Morphues spoke coldly facing Loki’s grimace. Before the Asgardian said anything more Dream Lord added “you are dreaming. You are a paradox. You should not even be here. You…. Died.”

“That was another timeline. Before I jumped  the version of myself from the past here.” The god waived his hand casually

“You did what?”

“Who’s unbright now, Dream Lord?”

“Watch your tongue, God of Mischief. You are still in my domain.”

“Seems like somewhere I could fit right in.”

“ Someone said that to me before and it did not end well for him.”

“Oh yes, one of your nightmares. What was his name? Corinthian, I suppose?”

“How do you know that.”

“You see, Dream Lord, you have your tricks and mind games and I have mine. So really there’s no way for you to intimidate me.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, I’m sure. You want to bet on that?”

“I do not…. Bet. Albeit I made an exception for my sister.”

“Nice family relationship, huh? My sister tried to kill me and my brother and as a result blew up my home planet.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Interesting choice of words, Dream King.  But … yes, it was quite unfortunate indeed”

“My other sibiling tried to annihilate me too. Desire.”

“Oh? Can’t imagine why” Loki mocked “you are truly a delight to be around.”

Both men were still eyeing each other but the previous tension was now a bit less noticeable as they discovered some similarities between them.

“No. I hurt a lot of people and beings that were close to me. Like my Raven.”

“A raven? How wonderful. I had an alligator version of myself, once. A real predatory animal.”

“You can’t possibly imagine how predatory this bird can me. I used it my challenge in hell.”

“Hell?”

“Yes.” Morphues’ eyes went a bit blurry at the memory “Snake-devouring, talons ripping….. Except Matthew, he’s more…. domesticated.”  

“Who’s Matthew” Loki frowned “nevermind. I don’t even know why I keep this banter with you.”

“Because whether you like it or not we are alike.”

“Oh! Oh, oh,oh!” Loki gave a short, mocking laugh “you are nothing like me. I have been through too much to even start this comparison.”

“You lost your mother, your brother and you life….” Morpheus trailed

“Stop it!”

“you did not succeed in fulfilling your so-called glorious purpose….”

“I’m warning you Dream Lord…..” the god’s face reddened slightly

“And now, from what I now you are trapped in some agency called……”

“TVA”

“Right. TVA.”

“I still don’t know how does that make us similar.”

“I …..” Morpheus stuttered but upon Loki’s gaze gathered himself “your effort, however futile are…. Interesting. I… may have had some struggles myself, feeling like ….. nothing at some point. Observing you was …. Uplifting. “

“Uplifling?” Loki hissed “Watching?! Do you think I’m your toy to play with?! I AM A GOD YOU….”

“Enough, Asgardian. I came to bring you relief in your sleeping hours.”

“I don’t need any help from you!”

“And yet, I am not asking. I am giving you a gift and you shall accept it.”

“Over my dead body!”

“Seems to me like we would be seeing each other more often now, God of Mischief. After all, it was my sister who pointed me towards you.”

“Oh, here we go again with the family drama.” Loki rolled his eyes “It’s like bantering with Thor…. Back… in the days” his voice broke a little

“My sister” Dream emphasized the word “Death. Mentioned something about you being lonely…”

“What now?! You sure you're not talking about yourself? If the stories are true you spend over a cantury locked up in some amateur, fumbler, self-appointed magus. How was that?"

Morphues said no word but his eyes turned a bit glassy.

"Don't you dare, Asgardian."

"I'll tell you how it felt - helpless, raging inside, planing your revenge on everyone responsible for the situation, pathetic...."

"You are forgetting yourself."

"Nah, I'm speakign from experience. When I first arrived at TVA they locked me away and kept inprisoned, so .... been there, done that. Whatever" he shook head getting rid of the memories. "What did your lovely sister ask you for? Perhaps I can try to change her mind?"

“Coming into contact with you. She sensed this … familiarization may enrich as both. “

“I cannot possibly imagine that.”

“Then we agree  on something, Asgard God. However, I will visit you again. As for now, this dream is over”.

Loki opened his eyes and found himself on the desert in the middle of nowhere in time and space, Sylvie sitting nearby.

“You were talking in your sleep.” She spat

“Really? What was I saying?”

“Something about God of Dreams?” she tilted her head frowning at her companion “oh, did you make friend during your little slumber? That is just adorable….”.

First it was the attitude of Morpheus and now mocking tone of the woman and Loki just couldn’t take it anymore.

“He is not my friend!!”

“Too bad, Death was right. Both you and her brother are in desperate need of one….”

She turned her head away, chuckling slightly leaving Loki with hundred of questions. Death came to contact with Sylvie? What the hell was all of this about?!

@somest1

@pinksirensong