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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

⊹ summary: you're missing, and morpheus nearly goes insane in longing and desperation in his search for you

⊹ tags: angst, morpheus copes (he doesn't) with you gone, established relationship

⊹ warnings: spoilers for 1.06, 1.07, & 1.08

⊹ word count: 3039

⊹ previous part: prologue/teaser

⊹ up next: part ii

⊹ now playing: everything i wanted by billie eilish

𝚒 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝚒 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎

The first person Morpheus swallows his pride and asks for helping regarding your whereabouts, is his sister.

After enduring an earful from her not of not trusting her and being too prideful to ask for help when you were concerned, Death reassures him that she did not reap you in the years you were gone.

"I kept my word to you, brother. I did not touch Y/N. But I have reaped many who came across her," Death says.

"Y/N killed them?" Morpheus asks, surprised. Though the laws that keep an Endless from hurting mortals does not apply to you, you tried not to take their lives anyway.

"No. At least, not directly." Death drops her voice to a whisper. "The humans call her the Lady of the Whispers. She's a notorious serial killer, Dream!"

"Have you talked to her?"

Death shakes her head. "She hasn't allowed me to get close to her. I sometimes see her when I reap the humans she leaves behind, but she never says anything to me. She just runs away."

They are silent for a while. Morpheus aggressively throws a chunk of bread at a pigeon, hitting it on the head, while Death makes small conversation with a man playing soccer.

"I think she's using her powers," she says finally.

"She would never abuse it," he says immediately. He might not know what you were doing or why you were doing it, but his trust in your remains unwavering. There was a reason you possessed the power you did.

"You need to find her, brother," Death says. "Before someone finds her first."

She faces the street as a car collides with the man playing soccer. Unbeknownst to the man in question, he jogs over with the ball, whistling at how the car had missed him. Death gives him a warm smile and links their arms as she proceeds to explain while they walk away.

Morpheus' gaze darkens at her back, and for a moment, his eyes look like hot, twin white stars. "I know," he says quietly.

Hob Gadling is the second person he swallows his pride for you for.

"I haven't seen her since the last time I saw the two of you together a few centuries back," Hob says.

'A few centuries back' was when he and Hob had a fight after Hob accused him of being in need of companionship. In Morpheus' defence, he was more prideful then. More than that, to suggest he was lonely despite having you, his wife, was an insult to you that he would not stand for. It had been you who demanded he apologize, but by the time he followed you to the pub (his punishment had been your refusal to hold his arm) Hob was gone.

"You better show up here in a hundred years," you told him firmly.

"For you, my love, I will. Now give me your hand before someone mistakes you for not being taken for."

You lightly hit his arm. "Not for me, Morpheus! For Hob! He's your friend, whether you like it or not. And you need someone apart from me. Who will you have if something happens to me and we are apart?"

He hadn't glorified that question with an answer. He simply grabbed your hand himself and refused to let go.

His capture led him to missing his and Hob's next appointment and being late to fulfilling his promise to you. But here he was, fulfilling it, and you weren't here to see it or to finally offer your hand.

Morpheus sighs heavily as he straightens in his seat.

"Just because I haven't seen Y/N, doesn't mean I haven't heard about her," Hob says. Though the New Inn is boisterously loud, Hob drops his voice to a hush and leans forward. "I hear there's a bounty on her head."

Morpheus looks at him warningly. "Have you tried to claim it?"

"What? No! Of course not! The opposite. She's more my friend than you are. I tried to offer her refuge, but she never replied to my attempts at contacting her. I did manage to see her once by pure coincidence."

Morpheus doesn't bother trying to contain his eagerness. "How did she look? Did she say anything about me?"

"She looked terrible," Hob admits. "Exhausted and always looking over her shoulder. And no, she didn't say anything about you. She didn't say anything at all, actually. It was quite odd. Maybe her tongue got cut off—"

"I'll cut your tongue off, Hob Gadling, if you dare voice such insolent thoughts again about my wife."

Hob chugs the rest of his drink in apology. But Hob's words aren't the first time Morpheus heard you refusing to talk to anyone. The few dreams and nightmares who also caught a fleeting glimpse at you also reported that although you recognized them, you didn't utter a single word to them. A normal person would have taken this as confirmation that you had turned your back on your duties as his wife and Lady of the Dreaming. But Morpheus knew you. He had loved you for more years than you were official his. That, plus the murders associated in your wake, causes the suspicions in Morpheus to grow.

He needs to find you.

Sooner rather than later, if not for his sanity, then for the good of the waking world.

Morpheus enters his throne room, exhaustion and longing for you nearly bringing him to his knees.

He doesn't have the strength to walk all the way up his staircase, so he settles for sitting on the fourth step—your step—and drapes his coat around him.

His throne room is large and barren—a sign that your touch was missing. When you were by his side, you had conjured ivies to scale the walls and flowers to drip from the ceiling. The multi-coloured lights from the stained glass windows would blend nicely with the streaks of gold from the candlelights and chandeliers you had placed throughout. The mere presence of you brought him warmth.

Morpheus doesn't think he'd ever felt as cold as he does now.

Outside, he hears hushed whispers between Mervyn, Matthew, and Lucienne. They are debating whether not is the right time or not to ask him about you, or if that'll earn them a front row seat to being unmade.

Truthfully, Morpheus doesn't know what he'll do either. All he knows is that he's so tired and misses you, like a starving man longs for food or a drowning man desperate for air. The pain of missing you makes it hard to move, but it's the thoughts of you that threatens to drive him insane—neither is a good state to be in for the Endless responsible for everyone's dreams.

If they were drawing sticks, Lucienne must have pulled the short end.

She sticks her head past the door, not daring to take another step. "May I disturb you, lord?" she says, attempting to hide the fear in her voice by sounding cool and formal as she normally does.

Though he barely had two seconds to rest, he pushes himself up. "Speak, Lucienne."

She takes a deep breath before crossing the room to him. She talks about menial things first, like how Cain and Abel seem to have accepted his apology with Goldie and how the dream folk are planning to throw a celebration for his return, which they have invited him to come.

He says no. It was always you who dragged him to these things, and you are not there.

"What is it you really want to ask, Lucienne?"

"It's not only from me," she says slowly, "but your other subjects as well."

Morpheus already knows what she's going to say, and at the thought of your name, his exhaustion grows heavier against his limbs, threatening to send him to the floor.

"Now that your tools have been returned to you, and many of your subjects are back in the Dreaming, the dream folk are wondering where Lady Y/N is and why you have not come for her yet."

"I do hope that question is not from lack of faith that I have abandoned my wife," Morpheus says sourly, although he knows that is not the case. Lucienne had already been by his side when he met you. She witnessed the years he pined after you, counselled him into acting on his emotions and courting you, and it was she who officiated your wedding and watched the blissful years after. While he appreciated Lucienne's loyalty to him as his librarian, he also knows Lucienne and you had become close enough to be friends, to the point that she would sometimes let go of formalities and call you by her name. If anyone was to know how much you meant to him, it would be her.

"Of course not, lord," Lucienne says, as expected, "but it has been days since you have returned to full strength. How can you bear to be away from her any more than you have to?"

"I cannot."

Lucienne pauses. "My lord?"

"I cannot bear being from her for so long," Morpheus admits, and he lets his tiredness show by taking his seat on your step once more. He sighs heavily as he looks up at her. "She is my wife, Lucienne."

"Perhaps you can ask your siblings—"

"No." Morpheus scowls at the idea. He had already done enough by asking Death and a human. If any of his other siblings found out he was incapable of finding you—Desire, especially—then there would be real cause to fear for your safety.

"I can still feel her," Morpheus murmurs. "She is somewhere out there, alive. I will find her, Lucienne. You can tell my subjects that their lady will be back."

"You know," Lucienne says after a pause. "That was the last thing Y/N said about you."

Morpheus tries not to recoil from what her words imply. According to Lucienne, you had not entered the Dreaming since your last attempt at rescuing him, which was also the day Jessamy died. As heartbroken as he was witnessing the death of his beloved raven, he was even more terrified at what could have happened to you that prevented you from protecting Jessamy. You never would have let her go down to that basement unguarded and unprotected. You cared for the bird more than Morpheus did. Whatever happened that day, whatever stopped you from going downstairs, must be linked to whatever you were running from.

But what? What could you possibly be running from?

Was it him? Had the century of being apart taught you that you didn't love him as much as you thought you did, and like his other dreams and nightmares, you took your shot at freedom and left? Was he the threat you were running from?

"I will find her," Morpheus repeats. "But wherever she is, she must be safe." Lucienne frowns but he continues. "No one knows who she truly is to me, and she would not have told others. She has to be safe—"

"She is not safe, lord Morpheus."

He looks up at her immediately. Suddenly, he's standing before her and Lucienne takes a step back in surprise.

"What did you say?" he asks lowly, the words scratching his throat.

"Forgive me, lord. I thought you were aware."

He shoots her a look, as if to remind her where he had been the past century. "Aware of what, Lucienne?"

"There is a bounty on lady Y/N's head."

Morpheus struggles not to stagger back. Was this another one of Desire's games? Perhaps Desire had looped Despair into one of their ploys? Though Desire had not been invited to the wedding, Delirium had been, and he had no doubt Desire's had intimidated their youngest sibling into telling them everything.

"For what?" he manages. "Because she's my wife?"

"For being your wife," Lucienne answers, "and for being one of your tools."

For a few seconds, he is unable to speak. He simply stares at Lucienne, waiting for her to say she was joking or mistaken, but she does neither. The secrecy of you being one of his tools was the only thing Morpheus had to reassure himself that you were safe. But if that was out, then...

Lucienne meets his gaze, reaffirming the truth behind her words.

"That's not possible," he finally says. "Few people knew of that ceremony. Fewer still attended and can confirm it happened."

"It was the Corinthian, sir."

The Corinthian. His pride and joy. His greatest masterpiece and the first nightmare you helped him with.

His rogue nightmare left a bitter taste in Morpheus' mouth. The Corinthian had been at the power transference ceremony—a sign that Morpheus truly loved his nightmare the most. His defiance was already heartbreaking enough, but now this? You? This was unforgivable.

Morpheus didn’t even want to imagine what sort of prize could be promised for the wife of an Endless, let alone for being one of his tools. Was that what he left you? Loneliness and enemies? Did you resent him for that? Was that why you had not returned or called to him for help? He had no reason for falling out of love with you in the century you were apart, but it seems that you had plenty of reasons to fall out of love with him.

"My theory is that something happened between him and her the day she ran away. What, I do not know. But Matthew reported the same thing: he heard whispers of a bounty placed on the wife of the Dream King by the Corinthian."

Rage simmered in Morpheus, and the Dreaming responded as such. Across his realm, the land trembled. Volcanoes bloomed and exploded, lava rapidly surging forth as a message to the Dreaming’s inhabitants that all was at the mercy of their king and his rapidly declining patience at his missing wife.

But in the library, Morpheus remains eerily still. "You may go conduct that census now, Lucienne," he says.

She stands there for a few more moments, as if wondering whether she should press the problem that was you. Thankfully, her years of servitude has taught her of his limits, and she departs with a dip of the head.

Morpheus waves his hand, locking the doors behind her. Only then does he released a long, exhausted breath as he sinks to his back on your step. A hot tear spills over his cheek as he touches the step, remember the days you and him have spent on it. Talking sometimes, kissing on others. He can feel your lips on him still, but it's starting to fade like a dream.

He is drowning in his grief for you. If missing you had not been enough, now he is plagued with fear that perhaps you did not want to be found. Did you blame him for your predicament? Did you hate him? Morpheus doesn't think he'd be able to handle not seeing love in your eyes if you look at him? And if he sees resentment, he thinks that might just break him.

How painful it is, he thinks, to grieve for the living. How unbearably painful it is.

It takes Lucienne a few days to conduct the census.

When she finishes, Morpheus is in a slightly better mood. She talks about the census first, then the three major missing arcana: Gault, the Corinthian, and Fiddler's Green. One was unsurprising, the second expected, but Fiddler's Green was hurtful. It was in Fiddler's Green he had married you, after all. Now he had lost another part of you.

When Lucienne brings up the vortex, Morpheus is smiling as he corrects her on the vortex not being an 'it' but a 'she'.

Lucienne eyes him suspiciously. "You don't seem worried."

"Rose Walker will be my answer and solution," Morpheus declares.

"But she is a vortex. She is not a solution. She is one of our problems!"

"You said it yourself, Lucienne. She is a vortex. Sooner or later, she will bring them all to her: Gault, the Corinthian, Fiddler's Green. My wife."

Lucienne is struck silent for a few moments, and he can see that is she is torn between listening to her duty as the Dreaming’s librarian and her loyalty to you as her friend. In the end, she picks duty, and Morpheus does not blame her for that. Neither would you, if you heard her. After all, you would have said the same thing.

"But she could destroy the realm first," Lucienne says nervously.

"I will take that risk if it means finding her. I've built my realm once and rebuilt it another time. With my wife back at my wise, both will be easier to accomplish."

"But sir—"

"I will hear none of this any longer. You may go tell my subjects that the Lady of the Dreaming will be returning son." Morpheus smiles towards the ceiling at his conjured image of Rose Walker. "I will ensure it."

When Rose Walker dreams her way to his throne room, uninvited but welcomed, Morpheus' worry about the vortex' growing powers is superseded by the hope that you will find your way to her soon enough.

"She shouldn't be here," Lucienne says agitatedly.

"No," Morpheus says, eyeing his solution with fascination, "but I should like her to stay."

As he explains to her what and where she is, he thinks of you. "I need you to look for someone for me, Rose Walker," Morpheus says as he finishes circling her. "Y/N. She is neither a dream or a nightmare. She is my wife. When you find her, you must tell me. But first, I need you to tell her something."

Morpheus bends close and Rose and whispers the words into her ear. he waits for her to nod in understanding before straightening.

"But how will I know who she is?" Rose asks. "Do you have a picture?"

Morpheus turns towards the painting on the wall of you. He points to the marble statue in the midst of the water fountain that is of your body, which he had carved with his own bare hands from memory. Then he summons a flower to spiral down from the ceiling and land in Rose's palm. All mementos of you.

"Believe me," Morpheus says with a smile. "You'll know it's her. My wife is...unmistakeable."

"Can I have her name, at least?"

"Y/N," Morpheus says tenderly. He always says your name that way. Borderline a reverent whisper like you are the goddess he's praying to. "Her name is Y/N."

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ…

Your throat is throbbing. You touch your throat gingerly, and you don't need a mirror to know that the handprints of that man are visible against your skin. But even as you cough, the motion raw against your raw throat, you don't stop running.

You catch sight of a hotel, and you feel relief as you turn away from the road and bolt up the hill to the building. It'll be easier to hide in one of the many rooms, but the guarantee of people in the hotel was cause for concern. But as long as you keep your mouth shut, all should be fine.

You slow into a walk as you pass a trio of people in the parking lot. Name tags dangle from their chest, one of who is named, The Music Teacher. In the centuries you've been alive, you've never heard such an in-depth and seriously spoken topic about their favourite methods of cooking barbecue and collecting grills.

As you hurry inside, you pass by a sign that reads: CEREAL CONVENTION.

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ…

09/03/22 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁: 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 24 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗒𝗑 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗃𝖺𝗒. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌!

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖿𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝖼𝖾? 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍? 𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾?

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀? 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽!

𝖿𝗒𝗂 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗉 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇. 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗀𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋. 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒. 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐟.

𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴!

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄.

[ 𝐚 ] — angst

[ 𝐟 ] — fluff

[ 𝐬 ] — smut

more specific trigger warnings will be seen in the fic!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 — [ 𝐚 ] , [ 𝐟 ]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘺. 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭: 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘮

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. — [ 𝐟 ]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 – 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. — [ 𝐬 ]  >>> 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. — [ 𝐟 ] 

𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗:

[ + ] 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒.

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. ⏤ [𝐟]

if you'd like to be tagged in everything i release for the sandman (series parts, headcanons, & imagines), please let me know in this shelf.

if you’d like to be tagged in just a specific series, then please let me know in that specific series’ masterlist.

shelf taglist   @aurorarevenclaw1927, @hueanhdang, @queen-taryn, @cyanide-mustard, @azrielloveselain, @sherazyjade, @missdreamofendless, @lothbrokcore

𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓

Hii!! I just wanted to say your headcanons about the corinthian's love languages were so cute!!

Idk if you've read the sandman comics but in one of the issues when the corinthian is recreated he sorta adopts this young kid, and at one point when he thinks him and the kid are in danger he offers to be uncreated again or killed if it means the kid is safe. But then the character reassures him that they aren't there to hurt him or the kid.

I just thought you'd appreciate knowing that since your little snippet about him being good with kids was super cute, and also accurate to his character. Surrogate father-figure corinthian is the best corinthian and no one can convince me otherwise 😌

𝖺𝗁𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎!

𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 (𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒) 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂'𝗆 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗒.

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆-𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀-𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀-𝗍𝗈-𝖻𝖾-𝗎𝗇𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾-𝖿𝗈𝗋-𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾-𝗁𝖾-𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌-𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾 (𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗅 𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌?). 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝖽, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾. 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗏 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝖼 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾.

𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇? 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀? 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗏𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗌? 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒

𝐬𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫:

𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿!𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌

𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝗇. 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗆? (𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍.) 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗅𝖿, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇. 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗎𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗇𝗂𝖼? 𝖻𝗎𝗍

𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝖽𝖺𝖽!𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒. 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋. 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 (𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝖽, 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾)

𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 (𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒) 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗒, 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽

I am so hyped for the forth tool I'm just 😩😩😩 r e a d y

ahh thank you! prologue/teaser is out if you want to check it out!!!

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.

⊹ pairing: the corinthian x reader

⊹ summary: how your favourite nightmare loves. this is a slightly dark version, as the corinthian is a nightmare. you don't expect someone like him to love someone in a good, pure way, do you?

⊹ warnings: descriptions of violence (eyeball popping), borderline nsfw (in par with his character since his only scenes are either being a serial killer or serial fucker)

⊹ word count: 3193

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 with a voice that oozes charisma and is thick and sweet like honey, (makes you want to open your mouth to him), you bet words will be the love language he uses in abundance. but is he talking to you sweetly or manipulating you? does it really matter?

morpheus seems to have given the corinthian the verbal skills he himself lacks

this nightmare is a talker. as you can see by how hooked everyone is on his words, from little jed, naive rose, and by inspiring a cult of serial killers, this man knows how to use his looks and his words to get people to do what he wants: to trust him

but the first time he meets you, he is speechless

the person he's talking to and who he was going to kill later that evening, is forgotten as he's too struck to do anything else but look at you curiously. your eyes meet across the room, and the room goes in a bit of a haze as all he can see is you.

obsessed with you immediately, and he doesn't even know why (guess he takes after his creator in having intense, all-consuming relationships)

approaches you and talks to you immediately. in minutes, has your back against a wall, his body covering yours from others and has your attention the entire night. has one hand on the wall beside your head

stands close enough that you can smell his aftershave and woodsy cologne

he has never lathered on as much sweet talk to a person as he did that night to you

by the end of the night, you are as consumed by him as he is by you

he loves to talk to you. domestic bliss with him is him telling you all about his day—the weather, the news, what he had for lunch

abundance of pet names, but mostly sweetheart, baby, and a little darling—all said with that slowed, drawl of his that just hearing is enough to make you tense and your breath hitch

enter: praise talk (is this still sfw?)

he'll praise you for every single thing you do, and make it sound like you did it for him. after awhile, you get used to his praises and get hooked on it. you start doing things just to hear him praise you, and don't you worry, he will

he does this thing where he watches you from the side as you do something, then he'll praise you

"i see you for who you truly are." (did i just take out of context the quote he said to serial killers? yes)

builds up your self confidence with an onslaught of compliments and praise

"you look beautiful, darling."

"with that on, everyone in the room will be staring at you and grow envious of me for being with you."

never lets you doubt yourself and your abilities for one second

is actually quite encouraging for whatever your aspirations are. who is he to judge, after all?

the first time you try to take someone's eyeballs, he's standing off to the side, leaning cooly against the wall, his tongue running over his lips from how dry they've become at watching the person he loves doing something he loves. but taking eyeballs is careful work, and you fail. the nerve snaps in half

at the first dismayed sound you release, he's by your side immediately and cupping your face, murmuring reassurances that you did so well for the first time and he's so proud of you

he shows you how proud by taking your hand and placing it over the tent in his pants

the first time you successfully take someone's eyeballs, his praises are said with a voice low and from the back of his throat

"well done, sweetheart."

"you did so good, baby. so good."

he moves in front of you and takes the eyeballs from your hand, but you move your hand away. he's confused at first, but then you raise your other hand towards his shades and remove them—all while looking at him with innocent eyes that have become slightly hooded with lust and adrenaline

he drops to a fucking knee and tilts his head up at you. he looks at you reverently, like you are the only higher being he'd submit to. he holds onto your wrist, more to steady himself than control you, as you bring the eyeball to one of his eyes (or is it still called mouths?), never breaking eye contact all the while

and when he's done, and you kiss away the blood that escapes down his cheek, he rises and kisses you hard and leaving you with no sense of direction but him, him, him

𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 the corinthian has always been demanding with your time, but after morpheus is released, he starts bringing you everywhere you go. he doesn't know if it's to keep you safe so morpheus can't take you from him, or him just wanting to spend as much fleeting time as he can with you.

the two of you are stuck to the hip, and it's not you being clingy, but him, not that he'd ever admit it

it's him who insists that he go everywhere with you in case something bad happens?

corruption kink

you're definitely innocent the first time he meets you. but there's something in your eyes that's not quite...right. you're innocent but accepting. too accepting. meaning you'll see a person commit the most atrocious act and still somehow understand them. empathize with them

it turns him on, not gonna lie

takes you with him on his kills

the first time he does, it's a test to see if you'll scream and run away and he has to take your eyeballs

you don't and pass his test

the next few times, you don't do anything. you just stand or sit to the side while he does his usual thing at the office

but one day, he sees it. a glint of interest in your eye. the tilt of your head that tells him you're interested in whatever you're watching and trying to memorize it.

he confirms his suspicions when he beckons you to come over to him with a tilt of his head. he nearly forgets to kill his victim as he's too busy kissing you against the wall

from then on, you alternate

while killing them is more satisfying to him, it's the way you feed him afterwards that makes him willing to let you kill since that intimacy always brings him to his knees

but during off hours when you're both not being an infamous serial killer couple, you both like to sightsee

the corinthian has been to a lot of places in the past hundred years, and has grown to like travelling just so he can experience many countries'…delicacies

you accompany him as you fly business class everywhere. coliseum in rome. great wall of chine. northern lights in iceland

he's also a surprisingly good babysitter

exhibit a: that episode with jed (yes, he was lowkey kidnapping him), showed that he's good at handling them. (he teased jed if he wanted to drive and kept him safe from that one serial killer)

so when the time comes that you ask him to babysit someone with you, he's actually quite good

the kids like and trust him immediately

seeing you with them could give you baby fever, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows what he's doing

he's that cool, laidback dad who lets you do things the other parent doesn't as long as you keep your mouth shut for it

(why am i alternating between nsfw headcanons and dad headcanons?)

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 did you see how firm yet gentle he was with the people he hooked up with? this nightmare will caress you too ruin

caress

that's the only appropriate word to describe how this man touches you. the brush of his knuckles against your cheek while you sit on the edge of the bed while he stands in between your legs

sometimes closes your eyes with the pad of his thumb and gently rubs it

some couples get kisses on the cheek or the forehead

you get them on your eyes

he'll gently close them with the paid of his thumb and rub it slightly. then he presses a soft, lingering kiss against that soft, fragile skin that protects the organ he loves the most

has a thing for pushing you against objects when kissing you (exhibit b: pushes roommate-lover against bed, pushes fake serial killer-lover against wall)

shoves you on the bed before getting on top of you

pushes you against a wall, hands cupping both sides of your face, forcing you to stay still as he kisses his way with you

grows aware that you need oxygen to breathe but he needs your kisses more than you need that

the first time you remove his glasses, he's surprised at how intimate that is, and how he falters at your touch. the first time you do it is also the first time he realizes that his emotions for you surpass lust and he might actually love you—whatever that entails

and when this does happen, he just gets so much more protective of you

and possessive

in public, hand always on your waist

kisses you (with tongue and lip biting) for the entire world and their mother to see

might even kiss you in front of morpheus to show off to his maker what he has and what morpheus doesn't

even with shades on, there's still intense eye contact

it's the way his entire body faces you

does this thing where he stands behind you, his chest warm and flush against your back. crooks a finger around your hair to brush it back, then hovers his lips right next to your ear so you can feel his whispers and it makes you shiver. he then presses a kiss to your neck, as if he's pleased with the reaction he's elicited from you

you know that couple thing where the boy will stand behind a girl and put his hands over hers as he teaches her how to play golf, or do billiards, or during pottery? that's him when teaching you the proper way to pop out an eyeball

his calloused hands wrapping over your soft hands around the hard handle of a knife

that same hand trailing up your arm, down the side of your chest, brushing your waist, then coming to a rest on your hip as he grips you slightly while bending you over

the protectiveness that grows after morpheus is freed, is also laced with a desperation to stay with you

on one hand, he holds out hope that he'll stop morpheus from taking him so he can stay with you. on the other hand, there's a feeling of inevitability and he can feel himself running out of time with you

he becomes softer but firmer with you

each kiss lasting longer than the last

starts to savour you. whispers his last prayers against your skin. draws his apologies on your arms

he stares at you more often, as if trying to commit your face to memory because if he is unmade, it could be centuries that have passed before he is made again. he doesn't know if he'll retain memories of you, but either way, you'll be long gone

and when the time comes that morpheus catches up to him and he is unmade, morpheus is able to feel the genuine love the corinthian had for you

because the corinthian didn't want you to stay with him, but him to stay with you

you become the corinthian's sole redeeming quality, and as you wail and plead against morpheus' coat to bring him back or to unmake you too, morpheus takes pity and grant your wish: which one is up to you to decide

𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 what else do you expect a serial killer nightmare to do for the person he loves? kill for them, of course. scaring others is what he was made for anyways

the first time you tell him someone's been giving you some trouble at school or at work, that someone ends up dead with their eyeballs taken out

the corinthian takes you out for dinner in a restaurant directly in front of that someone's apartment. as you eat dinner in front of a window, rather than be engrossed in the flickering candlelights, you focus on the blue and red lights of the police cars and hear the ambulance sirens as they load the dead body up to an ambulance that's heading straight to the morgue

happens every time you tell him about someone giving you trouble, even if it was just them cutting in line by accident. sometimes, he tells you what he did to them. other times, he doesn't

it's no problem to him, really. think of it as you packing him a little...snack

given that he bleeds charisma, parties are a regular occurrence for both of you

he makes you be his plus one to the parties he's invited to, and when you're invited to go to a party, he expects you to ask him to be your plus one as well

always has a hand around your waist during these events

kisses your cheek occasionally

if you're wearing lipstick and you leave a kiss mark against the bottom of his jaw, he won't wipe it away

might even intentionally move his head to the side to expose it, like it's a badge of honour

apart from killing others though, i don't think he'd go out of his way to do much else for you. at least, domestic things.

why would you need to cook if he can just hire a maid? folding laundry? maid. walking the dog? hires someone

but the one thing he always makes sure you do is eat (exhibit c: he asks jed if he wants more ice cream)

whether it's because you're so accepting of his diet or just because he puts a lot importance in eating, meals are the one thing he always looks out that you do correctly

and it's not just ensuring you eat three meals a day

but eating three healthy meals

he cooks for you—whatever you want. hell, he even learns to cook for you. it's the one thing he doesn't hire a maid for

you feed him, he feeds you mindset

always orders more of his meal because he knows you like to take some of his

unless you have a good, healthy reason for going on a diet, he won't entertain it

ice cream after dinner is a must

has your coffee order memorized, and you can trust him to order ahead at a restaurant

always drives you everywhere with a hand on your thigh that slowly creeps up

gives you his suit jacket when he's cold—and that's how you know it's true love

but the biggest act of service he does for you is not bring you to the cereal convention

it's not about not wanting to expose you to serial killers, but rather morpheus

though he hopes that he might walk out, on the event that he doesn't, he breaks his need to bring you everywhere and keep you at home

all so you don't see him be unmade, as he fears it will break you

and it would have

his last act of love to you

𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 have you seen the expensive suits he always wears? this man lavishes himself and his serial killer lifestyle, so he'll do the same for you

like his creator, this man is a giver. it might be one of the things morpheus put from himself in him

if he can dress in an expensive suit everyday all while maintaining its pristine state given his...lifestyle, then he expects the same from you too

introducing: matching outfits

you wouldn't think he's one for it, but he is. maybe not identical, but in a cool, stylish way that makes it clear the two of you are meant to be seen together and as one

suits or dresses that compliments his outfits

and it's not you matching to him, but the other way

he wants to match with you

he always waits for you to get ready and pick out an outfit first before going through his closet and finds a suit that matches

and jewellery

he strikes me as someone who wants to give his partner jewellery for them to wear—his way of marking them, so make sure to always wear one

necklace (choker), anklet, belt, hair accessory, ring

always watches you put it on. he likes its when he's the one putting it on, but falls to his knees (is his knees okay?) when you ask him to help you put it on

you need help putting your necklace on? turn around and he'll brush a finger down the nape of your neck, enjoying the way you shiver, as he clasps the necklace and places a kiss where the metal and your skin meets

might even leave a hickey

and if you wear socks or stockings, he'll drop to his knees (there he goes again) and slowly rolling the fabric up your legs, going higher and higher. kisses your inner things while he's there. his hands keeps climbing and climbing until his hand reaches your—

ahem.

black card user

"you want to go shopping? take my card, baby."

when the bill goes to his phone for what you bought, he sends you a text praising you for using it and says he can't wait to see you try it on

and if it's lingerie, he might ask for a photo and tell you to come home so he can see and take it off—

sets aside a trust for you

you get to take advantage of his lavish lifestyle. you don't really own a home, but instead live out for a few months at a time in various five star hotels before moving on

and if you do bring up settling down, he'll just smile at you and explain patiently why he can't settle down and why he wouldn't be able to bear being so far away from you for such long periods of time.

"i can't live that far from you, baby. can you live without me for that long?"

and how can you argue with that logic?

so you stay with him. and he gives you presents to praise your "choice"

yes, he loves to give you gifts. but more important, he wants you to love them

he likes seeing the special containers you put the jewellery he gifts you in and how you handle them so carefully, as if treating them as an extension of him and his love for you

and when you lose him, they are all that remains of him

and perhaps morpheus takes pity on you as he sees the genuine love you have for him

he uses his sand to recreate a better version of the corinthian using one of the objects he gave you

then maybe it's your turn to corrupt this new corinthian to change him back into the version you know and love

and that's okay

in conclusion, while i might not have been in love with mr. mouths-for-eyes, writing this headcanon and witnessing my eventual failure from keeping sfw might have changed my mind. he does, after all, have a very nice voice...

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁-𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗈u𝗍𝗁𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌? 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽.

𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇'𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌'? 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗌? 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇, 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌' 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾. 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗒—

𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @aurorarevenclaw1927, @juniebugg

You tease, all those little crumbs of what Morpheus would be like in bed and NO FOLLOW THROUGH?! Ma'am, may I request a smut alphabet for him? We deserve to be FED 😭

𝗅𝗈𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎!

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇. 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝗒𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝗂𝖽𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍-𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇-𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽! 𝗂 𝗐𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 :)