Corinthian Imagine - Tumblr Posts

im sorry but like imagine Corinthian fingering you in a movie theater, like you are wearing the cutest dress ever and you bring a blanket, and you put the blanket over you and then he puts his hand on your knee and slides it slowly to your inner thigh and feels your clothed pussy and whispers in your ear "look at how wet you've become" and he puts his hands near the top of your panties and slips his hand under and feels your clit, and you have to refrain from whimpering and he trails his fingers down to your folds and slowly enters two fingers

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

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢𝐢.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader, corinthian x reader if you squint

⊹ summary: you reunite with an old enemy and an even older friend, the corinthian, and confront him about his betrayal to morpheus, and more importantly, to you

⊹ tags: unexpected hints of a love triangle (more like a love V since there's no third line), contains more corinthian than morpheus in this part

⊹ warnings: violence, spoiler for 1.09

⊹ word count: 3492 (an absolute menace)

⊹ previous part: part ii

⊹ up next: part iv → coming soon

⊹ now playing: run boy run by woodkid

𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗! 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗! 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞

The basement is cold and empty.

You shiver as you walk quietly through the hall. The years have taught you how to step lightly as if you were gliding on the marble rather than stepping.

Even though there was no logical reasoning that bound the Corinthian and you, you can still feel his presence. He was somewhere on the floor, getting closer and closer with each step you take even though your not working purposefully in a directions. You can feel him waiting for you to find him. To come to him — ironic, considering it’s been him chasing you all this time.

You don’t know what will happen when you see each other again. Will he hurt you? Try to claim the very bounty he set on your head? Has he finally gotten tired of your cat-and-mouse game?

Your thoughts are put to a pause when Jed Walker appears ahead, just a few doors from where you’re standing. You whisper his name but it goes unheard as he pushes open a set of doors and steps through, disappearing from your view. You still don’t know what the Corinthian could want with two young mortals, but given his track record, you don’t trust him with them. If saving them means your game has to continue, then very well.

“Jed!” you whisper louder. You hurry after the boy, slipping through the doors just before they close and nearly bumping into him.

The room isn’t empty. In fact, there are four—technically, three—other people in the room. A dead mortal, two killers, and in the centre of it all, the Corinthian himself.

The Corinthian smiles at you.

You push Jed behind you. He grips onto the back of your shirt, trembling in fear as you and him both look at the Corinthian and the man being stabbed to death behind him.

Even with those dark shades on, you know the Corinthian is looking at you. You can feel his stare burning into you, taking in every inch of you greedily. It has been a century since he last saw you, after all. An entire century since he stopped you from entering the basement of Rodrick Burgess and freeing your husband and his maker, and instead put a bounty on your head.

“Hello, my lady,” the Corinthian says, his honey-like drawl drawing shivers from you. He takes a step towards you, and you take three back. “I’ve missed you.”

He hasn’t changed much since the last time you saw him—nearly a hundred years ago. He still insists on indulging his materialistic side—something he got from Morpheus’ tendency to spoil you, probably—by wearing high-end suits. His golden hair is still the same length, though he no longer wears his hat. And he still wears those damn shades that covers his eyes—eyes that Morpheus spent days crafting specially for him.

You shove Jed further back, and the boy thankfully takes the hint and bolts. You stay.

“Who’s she?” one of the killers, a woman with straight hair, asks.

“She’s mine,” the Corinthian says dismissively. “Just continue with him.”

The woman looks at you before shrugging. She raises her hand to resume stabbing the man.

“Both of you, stop,” you command, and the two behind him immediately stop. Not just their arm, but every muscle in their body has frozen in compliance with your order. Even their hearts have frozen, and though you’re sure they’re feeling terrified, their bodies can’t show it because of what you’ve done to them with a single spoken word.

“All these years, and you still can’t control it, can you?” the Corinthian says. Though he sounds slightly disappointed, he keeps his tone light, as if remarking that it was raining when it should have been sunny. The casualness in his voice enrages you.

He’d always been a nightmare, but the last time you saw him, he had also been your friend. Not the maker-and-created relationship he has with Morpheus, but a friend. You hadn’t been surprised he’d want to keep Morpheus trapped and stop you, but you hadn’t expected for him to put that bounty on your head and reveal Morpheus’ and your’s, secret. To Morpheus, it was an act of defiance. To you, it was an act of betrayal.

“Corinthian."

His features softens slightly at the name you chose and gave to him. “My lady.”

“What have you done?”

“I inspired people, just like you said I would be able to.”

You flinch, as he’s spat your words back at you verbatim. You and him had been walking through the Dreaming once, your arm linked around his. It had been after your wedding to Morpheus but before the power transference ceremony. The Corinthian had asked what your intention was for him, as while it had been Morpheus who crafted him for you, you had decided his purpose. Even Morpheus had been surprised that you would choose to craft a nightmare rather than a dream, but you defended the Corinthian by saying nightmares had just as much power influencing a person and their decisions as much as dreams did.

“Confronting one’s fears challenges a person, but when they emerge, they come out stronger and firmer in their beliefs,” you had told him. “That’s what I want you to be. To be a mirror for humanity’s darkest self so they would choose to be better.”

He had smiled down at you in response, and dipped his head in a small bow. You tightened your grip on him as you resumed your walk, the sun warm down on both of you—so different from the cold that filled the air between the two of you now.

“I wanted you to inspire others to be good, Corinthian. Not…this.”

“I’m letting them be their true selves.”

“You’ve taught them to be selfish and cruel.”

He tilts his head before taking a step forward. You take another three back until you hit the door. But you don’t run. Not yet.

“Are you disappointed in me, my lady?” he asks lowly.

You toss your nametag to his feet in response. Of all his atrocities to you, that was the worst. “You made me that,” you spit out. Lady of Whispers. The name he gave you. He was the one who blew on the flames and built your reputation when he knew that you never meant to hurt anyone. It was his fault that people feared you, when you had been the complete opposite in the Dreaming. 

“I gave you a name of your own,” he says through gritted teeth. “Something for people to know you by other than being someone’s wife.”

There is truth behind his words. People still knew you as Lady of the Dreaming, but now they feared you for you, and not because of Morpheus solely.

The two killers behind him fall to the ground, dead. Death was always the only one able to put a stop to your powers.

The Corinthian bends down to pick you your name. As he does, you seize his distracted nature and run, going after Jed wherever he is. As the doors swing shut behind you, you hear the Corinthian’s throaty chuckle, the sound raising bumps all over your arms.

You sprint up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.

Floor after floor, you search the halls, hissing out Jed’s name. By the fifth floor, you’re breathing heavily. By the eight, there’s a sharp cramp in your side. On the tenth, you’re forced to stop against a wall to catch your breath. As you will the fire in your lungs to go away, you remember the key in your back pocket. The room reserved for you is on this floor. It’s a completely irrelevant point, but you can’t help but wonder what you would find if you entered that room: one bed or two.

A girl walks past you, her head tilted upwards to the room numbers. You stare after her in surprise, recognizing her from the picture you’re carrying.

“Rose Walker?” you ask.

She turns to you. She blinks, and you see the recognition flare in her eyes. “I know you, don’t I?” she says thoughtfully. “I think I’ve seen you in my dreams.”

That wasn’t possible. Mortals already rarely remembered the full extent of their dreams. They rarely remembered Morpheus being by their side as they went through the Dreaming, you even more, talking to them and guiding them through. The most they remembered was the warmth of your presence.

“Y/N,” she says. “You’re Dream’s wife.”

You stop. “How do you know who I am?”

“He told me I’d know who you were.”

“My husband?” You step closer. “He’s spoken with you? Is he here? Is he alright? What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you something.”

“What is it?” you ask insistently, the desperation clear in your voice. Was it an explanation for why he isn’t here? Anger or hurt? Understanding?

“He told me to tell you that I’m a vortex,” Rose says.

You freeze and stare at Rose. It takes a few seconds for the pieces to click—why your husband would want her to tell you that apart from everything else. But when it does click, your shoulders relax and you smile at her. Of course he’d have her tell you that. You never would have figured it out on your own.

“Why would he tell me to tell you that?” Rose asks. “Does it mean something special to you?”

Of course you pity her for what has to be done, but you’re also relieved that you’re almost done. But before you can give her an answer—a partial truth to not be so cruel—someone calls her name.

You both look down the hall and see Jed Walker standing there. Rose breaks into a smile, forgetting you, and hugs Jed tightly. You recognize the man behind Jed, Fun Land, who’s too busy looking at him like prey. He moves forward and starts to tug Jed from Rose, who screams at him and you for help.

You rush forwards and slam your elbow down on Fun Land’s neck, hitting a nerve that sends him crumpling to his knees.

“Run, Rose!” you bark at her, and though her eyes don’t turn gold, she does as you command anyway.The three of you sprint down the hallway, only to be forced to a stop as you reach a locked green door. You try to kick it down, but the lock is thick and made of metal. As Rose and Jed begin to knock on it desperately, shouting for help, you think about who you’d call for help—Morpheus. But he isn’t here. At least, not yet. And you couldn’t let someone like Fun Land appease the appetite that the Corinthian had inspired in him.

“Cover his ears,” you command Rose. As Fun Land reaches you, you shove the kids behind you, using your body as a protective shield. 

“Stop,” you command. Gold fills his eyes, swirling in his irises like sand. Fun Land halts a few step from you, standing completely still and waiting for more instruction. “See yourself for who you really are.”

Immediately, he flinches and recoils into himself. He starts to whimper and seek forgiveness from Jed and Rose and every other unfortunate child he’d collected that would not and should not ever be given to him.

“What are you doing to him?” Rose whispers.

“Exactly what I said,” you say coldly. If the Corinthian inspired them to be who they really are, then let them see just that. He would see the monster he is.

Fun Land’s whimpers begin to turn into screams as he slaps his hands over his eyes to hide the world. Because that isn’t enough, he digs his fingers into them, the squelch as he hits his eyeballs echoing in the hall despite Rose’s horrified gasp and Jed’s cries. You only continue to stare, true, merciless and just, just as the Lady of Dreaming should be.

Fun Land’s cries are cut off when he suddenly drops dead. His body falls to the floor, a dagger protruding from the back of his head. Standing behind where he one stood, is the Corinthian.

“What a waste of a snack,” he says with a tut of his tongue. He licks his lips. “But my lady. We haven’t finished our conversation. Shall we?”

The Corinthian tosses your nametag to you. Out of instinct, you catch it.

“I did not make you this way,” the Corinthian says. “Dream did. If there’s anyone to blame for your talent, your gift, it’s him. He made you this way, just as he made me this way.” He takes a step towards you. “This is who we are, and if you would just stop running for one second and look in the mirror and see how much better you are in this form—with your powers and without him—you would be a lot happier.”

“With you?”

The Corinthian looks taken aback. “What?”

“Do you think I would be happier with you than with my husband?”

If Morpheus made him, then perhaps he had put his affection for you in the Corinthian as well. Perhaps that was why the Cortinthian insisted the bounty be for you to be taken alive, and why you had never been able to use your powers to stop him. You’ve always known those emotions were there, even if it went unsaid by you or him. Even before Morpheus’ capture, the Corinthian’s affection for you had always been soft, gentle. Lingering touches on your arm, laughing a little too loud at your jokes, his gaze on you longer than a friend’s should. But you always ignored it, as you never saw him in the way you saw your husband. You loved the part of him that was Morpheus,, but you could not love him completely. You could never.

“I did them for you,” the Corinthian insists. “Inspired them for you. They worship you, just as everyone should. Dream never let the others see your beauty and talent, but I did. I let them see you as you really were and they adored you. Because of me, you are loved.”

His words and the veneration in his tone—something you wish he was faking but can tell is genuine—struck you into silence. He’s standing before you now, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His movement is gentle. A caress.

“My lady,” he says quietly, his voice deep and thick with emotion. “I have missed you.”

Was it possible that he was right? That he loved you in a way Morpheus loved you differently? In a way you should be loved? Whereas Morpheus hid you from the world to protect you, the Corinthian showed you to the world and gave the world a reason to fear you—your own protection. Was he right?

He’s about to brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb when you grab his wrist tightly; painfully. A stark contrast against his touch.

Through his shades, your eyes meet. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Though you don’t see his eyes, you know they fill gold as the effects of your powers take control. The Corinthian yanks his hand back like you were the surface of a hot stove. He tries to slap you, but his hand stops inches from your cheek and he cries out in pain as his other hand grabs his wrist and pulls it away forcefully. He stares at his hand in repulsion, then up at you in anger, and just like that you know that whatever emotions he has for you is gone. The Corinthian had rebelled against Morpheus so he would not be under his maker’s will, and now you had just forced him under yours.

His lips curl into a nasty smile. He directs his attention to Rose, who’s been watching with fearful eyes this whole time.

“You don’t think she’s going to protect you, now do you, Rose Walker?” the Corinthian says, his tone sickly sweet and charming. “Do you know who she is?”

“Dream’s wife,” Rose says hesitantly.

“Oh, she’s so much more than that. She’s one of his tools.”

“His tools?”

“Dream is known for three of his tools: his pouch of sand, his helm, and his ruby. But what’s lesser known is his fourth tool: his wife. While the first three were crafted, his fourth was given to a mortal that he fell in love with.”

“Enough,” you snap, but the Corinthian doesn’t listen.

“The ceremony was beautiful. A slice from his palm to draw blood, which he placed on top of hers so that his blood may enter her veins. In his blood was his power. When the blood had dried, it was done. She had been remade into one of his tools, and like his other tools, she has powers. Did you see what she did to Fun Land?”

“She told him to stop,” Rose says slowly. You can hear her piecing it together, and as you turn to her, you see the growing fear and apprehension in her eyes. “You told me to cover Jed’s ears…it’s because you didn’t want him to hear what you would say. Your order. Is that your power? You can tell people what to do?”

“The proper term is she inspires,” the Corinthian said.

You aren’t blind. You’ve seen the slow, small steps he’s taken to Rose, as if he’s offering her his protection. And you can see how Rose has been leaning away from you and towards him too. He’s always been good with words. That he got from you.

“Dream stored inspiration in her,” he says. “The ceremony turned her into the physical manifestation of inspiration; of the aspect of our thoughts and dreams that incline us to do something.”

Rose looks at you, perhaps waiting for you to say he was lying or there was more to the truth, but you don’t say anything. You can’t.

“Dream’s coming to kill you, Rose Walker,” the Corinthian whispers in her ear.

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re the vortex.” He turns to you. “And as Dream’s tool and his wife, she’s going to kill you too if she can.”

There’s betrayal in her eyes towards you as she tugs Jed closer to her. And fear. That’s what’s in her eyes. That’s how everyone’s looked at you in the past century.

“Is he telling the truth?” she asks. “You’re both going to kill me?”

“You have to die, Rose,” you say, void of emotion. “For everyone. For your brother’s safety. You are the vortex.”

“Is that why he had me tell you that I was one? So you could finish the job if he couldn’t?”

Perhaps it was one of the reasons he told her that, a sign that he still had trust in you. But you knew the main reason he had her tell you that was to reassure you that he still loved you and was coming for you. As the vortex, Morpheus had to come for her. His message—the unspoken words behind it—was to tell you to stay close to Rose Walker so that he could find you.

In other words, he was asking you to wait for him.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” you say softly. Behind your back, you reach for the hilt of your dagger. Morpheus will find another way to get to you. But he won’t be able to do that if the Corinthian has Rose.

But before you can grab onto it, the Corinthian moves. He’s a blur of speed and strength, and you’re soon slammed against the wall with a syringe sticking out of your neck. You gasp and dig your nails into his wrist, hard enough to draw blood, but it’s too late. When he pulls the syringe out, it’s empty. The liquid burns through your veins and dulls everything immediately, and you go slump against his body as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“He’ll come for me,” you mumble.

“Oh, I’m counting on it, sweet thing,” the Corinthian murmurs. He grips your chin with his thumb and points and points your face towards him. “What do you think the reward for the bounty is?”

Your eyes widen in horror. The Corinthian smiles and nods.

“Dream, your husband who’d do anything to get you back. Well. Let’s see just how much he means that, shall we? When you get home, why don’t you tell your husband that I’m waiting for him?”

You try to push away from him, but you’re too weak. Soon, you can’t feel your limbs. Then, you begin to drift. For the first time in a long time, you’re falling asleep and entering the Dreaming. But before you do, you feel the Corinthian press his lips against your forehead. His words are the last you hear.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ…

Morpheus walks slowly towards the Corinthian, the weight of his footsteps and anger to be felt by all as the world tremors. Across the waking world, dreamers encounter nightmares that haven’t been seen since the Morpheus was first captured. They stir and cry out in their sleep, unable to wake and escape the monsters. Some wake up and find that the monsters have followed them into the waking world.

They all scream.

But in the hotel, where the cult of serial killers are asleep in their seats, it is only the King of Dreams and Nightmares and the Corinthian.

“Where is she?” Morpheus asks eerily calm. His voice is deep and dangerous; wrath being barely restrained from being unleashed on the Corinthian.

The Corinthian smiles. “You can feel her, can’t you? Feel her strength? Or shall I say, her strength diminishing?”

“What have you done, Corinthian?”

“I want to kill you, Dream. And what easier way to kill you, than to kill your wife.”

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ…

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀? 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗇𝗂'𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌??? 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽??? 𝗐𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇.

𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗒. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (𝗅𝗈𝗐-𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖼) 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍!

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗋, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

╰┈➤ 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵!

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

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

𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @justviktormlolm, @amirahroronoa, @sunna-fangirls, @mrs-captainsteverogers, @absbdbshhs, @urbanbts, @theamuz, @ac-procrastinator-13, @thegreatestsandwich, @julegrav009-blog, @harrypotter55, @blossomedfloweroflove, @lestaikkeullsokka, @thetrashypanda423, @ponyboys-sunsets, @izzicle, @dilfsandtherapy, @mischiefmanaged71, @grippleback-galaxy, @cynic-spirit, @thecrazytealady, @violet-19999, @junobutbored, @avanisbored, @redskull199987, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @ladymoon666, @celestialceremonials, @mm2305, @ttae-yong, @thegreatestsandwich, @notabotiswear, @boofy1998, @crimsonsabbath, @megumimind, @itsnanabun, @spygrrl99, @regulusblacksimpsblog, @maverey, @storm4433, @writerinlearning, @lokigirlszendaya, @thesadvampire, @thestarsanctuary, @floreoo, @pinkpunkdynamite, @jesllianaquilesrolon, @aegeanblues, @anjimimimoo, @imaginativefanatic, @book-place, @littlemoistcarrot, @lorosette, @wondermia69, @commanderfreethatdust, @flowerpersephone, @carrietrekkie, @mividaesmeh,

@tea-effect, @lex-the-flex, @dreamamubarak, @witchxlove, @mxtokko

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎!