eyeless-smiles

[eyeless-smiles]

The Nightmare's features light up with morbid fascination as Castiel reveals his little bombshell of a secret. A grand smile revealing flawless teeth as the monster tries to picture how such an event may have gone down.

It would be fascinating to get a taste of the Angel's eyes with what he knows, now. What kind of guilt and shame does Castiel harbour over what could have been a mistake worthy of God's fury?

And then Cas reveals the underlying desire that he had killed the fish that had started it all. The Nightmare's tongue flicks out across his lips. Bristling with barely contained excitement over the poetic irony in Castiels story.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He murmurs, canting his head with a smile.

"You witness the worst of humanity, and in turn, a part of you desires their utter anhillation. Their worst brings out the worst in you."

He sighs softly, seeming distant with his thoughts. Basking in Castiels presence with the knowledge he now holds.

"You can act so incredibly human."

Raised brows follow Castiels descent to the motel room floor, and a scoffing laugh filters past his lips. Did the Angel really think this was going to work?

But, since Castiel refused to let the Corinthian leave the fucking room, the Nightmare has little options but to play along. He sighs as he sinks to the floor. His legs folded beneath him. Palms placed on his knees as he aims to look as ridiculous as the Angel does.

Whatever Castiel is up to, it is more interesting than rewatching the same crappy sitcom episodes that have been rerunning on the tv.

"Okay then, Feathers. You go first." The Nightmare scoffs past a cold smile. His head canting slightly to the side whilst hidden maws scrutinise the Angels minute expressions. Searching for any signs of agitation or discomfort that he can sink his teeth into.

"Tell me a secret."

#((corinth has just fallen in love #((hes gnawing on castiel like a chew toy #ic

[eyeless-smiles]

((Hello, excuse my sporadic activity for the next few days, I am a sleepy guy. Much exercise and travel is happening. Not many braincells left for writing :(

#ooc

[eyeless-smiles]

Wee reminder that I hecking adore you and your deranged, handsome babygirl too <3

AWW, thank you for your kind words!! You are too wonderful and precious 🥺🥺🥺❤️ Myself and Corinth send you and your silly little blorbos many smooches ❤️

@murderdeals

#ooc #murderdeals #too kind!! ;u;

[eyeless-smiles]

Eyes stared at him from a distance, remaining slunk in the shadows, as he fought to decipher intel, mind starting to burn. The creature was unknown, causing more questions than answers - its scent and origins untraceable. Facial recognition was doing it's best to register, and he squeaked slightly, blinking rapid eyes. It was rude to stare and yet, he was enthralled and fascinated, this evident in the dilated pupils as he finally approached, clearing his throat. 'Uhm excuse me... are you okay?'

The Corinthian feels a gaze weighing on his back. Making the Nightmare stiffen and raise its head from where he had been focused on reading a news article on his phone.

Hidden maws survey his surroundings, before they land on a man who looks rather bashful about being caught looking.

There's something off about him. A flavour that emanates from his aura like nothing he has ever tasted before. A single brow raises with surprised scrutiny. Those eyes are tantalising, and to the monster's surprise, the stranger approaches first.

His question is met with a soft chuckle and a sharp smile. Canting his blond head to the side whilst narrowed maws examine every intricate detail of the stranger's visage.

"Course I am, darling. Are you?" The Nightmare rebuttles the question. After all, he hadn't been the one staring.

@esotericsoldier

#((sorry this took a while! #ic #esotericsoldier

[eyeless-smiles]

🌺 send this to blogs you think are wonderful 🌺

((WAH Thank you friend!! You are too kind 🥺❤️❤️ Corinth sends kisses 👄👄👄

@kingofthewebxxx

#ooc

[eyeless-smiles]

send me ❤ and I will bold all that applies to your muse

I would kill for you. • I would make love to you. • I would fuck you. • I would protect you. • I would hurt you for a selfish cause. • I wish we had more in common. • I want nothing to do with you. • I want to see you cry. • I want a future with you. • I want to destroy your future. • I do not care what you do. • I am indifferent towards you. • I want children with you. • I love you ( platonically ) • I love you ( romantically ) • I love you like family. • You are my family. • I could fall in love with you. • I would lie for you. • I would fight by your side. • I will never let you go. • I would hold you while you cried. • I would hug you. • I want to kiss you. • I would stay by your bedside if you were ill. • I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. • I want to forget you. • I will never forget you. • I only want to make you proud. • I wish I could make you happy. • You deserve nothing. • I will never forgive you. • You confuse me.

#rp meme #ask meme #open

[eyeless-smiles]

His gaze slides to that playfully exposed neck. Hm, this one knows how to play into his predatory instincts. And the Corinthian likes it.

A flash of recognition crosses the monsters face when Moriarty formally introduces himself, and soft lips part around an awed gasp of remark.

"Ah, well now. Ain't I lucky to have met you." He murmurs around a smile. But information like this doesn't come for free.

Moriarty has kept his identity secretive. The Corinthian knows the name, but not the face. And the Corinthian of all people has a knack for knowing faces.

If the Criminal Kingpin is revealing his identity, he is clearly looking for something.

"What brings you to a place like this, doll?"

"Oh wow, you're really easy on the *clears throat* eyes." // 😎 Jim sends his love.

The Nightmare turns from his drink to follow the smooth voice that speaks to him. Blond brows raised with pleasant surprise when his gaze falls upon a handsome, dark eyed stranger. The Corinthian's attention drops to his name tag.

Jim. An interesting moniker.

"Mmm, ain't you a sweet talker." The Corinthian purrs with an amused chuckle as he turns to face the stranger. His nametag nor his face rings any bells. Not a well known killer? Or simply hiding his true identity?

"To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

@domuslux

#ic

[eyeless-smiles]

A sharp cry of discontent rips from his lips when his hair is grabbed roughly. Forcing the Corinthian to crane his head back in order to try and ease the painful burn across his scalp. One ocular maw hisses with discontent. The other gasps.

Instinctive. Automatic. The Creation cannot hide how Dreams touch makes him feel. Even if it is laced with pure malice. His hands reach out to desperately claw at Dream's wrist that seeks to latch the contraption around his throat.

"I- no, I came back!" He protests in agitation, trying to pull back from the touch of the cool metal. But it's too late. The collar latches closed roughly around his neck by the will of the one who created it.

"That was one tiny mistake - and I came back!" The Nightmare reels with distress as hands switch from prying at Dream's hands to the metal that has made its home around his throat.

"This wouldn't have fucking happened had you just noticed me!"

Had Dream given him anything. Anything other than distance and hate. Anything other than looking at him like he had created another mistake.

One Mistake | @eroskissedskin

He'd fucked up.

He'd fucked up, and Dream was going to find out.

He always does.

The Corinthian paces the Dreamers bedroom with an anxious feverishness. Golden fingers trailing through his blond locks with traces of fresh blood.

The room is empty. The Dreamer is awake now. Probably desperately dialling 911 to report an attack by a man from his dreams.

It had just been a split-second decision. One the Nightmare would never have made, under the right circumstances.

No, if Dream hadn't been neglecting him as much as He had recently, the Nightmare would have never sought out this mortal lookalike.

If Dream hadn't been so fucking cold and angry with him all the time. If He hadn't been keeping him on a short leash for the mistakes his predecessor made, he wouldn't be here.

It was just instinct when the Dreamer had looked up at him with tear filled blue eyes- welling with fear. The Corinthian couldn't help but slip from the fabric of dreams and into reality. Into the Dreamers bed.

Atop the real thing.

It was a brief, thirty second affair. The Corinthian had caged the mortal down. And his knife- now very much real, carved against the screaming boys skin like butter. Releasing the biting scent of blood into the air.

A spark of excitement flickers in the back of his mind that felt like a distant memory being relived. A part of the old Corinthian rearing its ugly head.

It was the smell of blood that abruptly sent the Nightmare scuttling back to the Dreaming with his cosmetic heart hammering in his chest.

Dream couldn't know. It was so quick- He wouldn't have noticed the Corinthian's absence, would he?

All he did was cut the mortal- smelled his blood, tasted his fear.

But this is Dream we're talking about. The second iteration of the Corinthian has been walking on eggshells with Him for months since his remaking. Would Dream see this slight as a crime worthy of his undoing once more?

The Nightmare takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Wishes the blood away from his frame. He's fine. He's in the Dreaming, where he belongs. Dream wouldn't have noticed his split absence, He has better things to do.

Turning towards the door, the Nightmare steps out of this now redundant dream to find somewhere to hide for a while.

#ic #eroskissedskin

[eyeless-smiles]

Herb Ritts for Valentino, 1995

Joelle Jones, variant cover for The Sandman Universe Nightmare Country The Glass House #2

#musings #corinthian #about #face

[eyeless-smiles]

The Nightmare catches how the knight reaches for his belt. Tensing under the possibility that he may try and attack. There's no way that the stranger could have known what the Corinthian is, is there?

The Nightmare takes a slow step back, a hint of weariness tracing across his features now. The accusations don't go unnoticed, and the Nightmare forces a bitter laugh.

"What, you think I'm the killer that's been prancing around Gotham? Just because I wanted to fuck a cute guy in a back alley? Fuck off!" Its easy to play the offended bystander. Agitated by accusations inappropriately placed. The Nightmare takes a slow step back towards the tavern.

"How do I know you ain't the monster whos been killing people? Hanging around in dark alleys like this, it's fucking weird."

The Nightmare's brows furrow slightly as the dark knight comments about a killer within the city. The squire by his side clearly showing a modicum of fear in his eyes. The Corinthian grips the young mans hand tighter. A sign of reassurance. A simple gesture meant to soothe the uncertainty that the knight is stirring in the squires gut.

The Corinthian recognises who this is. Gothams Dark Knight. Some asshole in a suit of armour who takes it upon himself to do the city guards job. The Corinthian scoffs softly, glancing at his counterpart. Playing the role of agitated bystander who has gotten caught up in something that doesn't concern him.

"Look, darlin'. Myself and my company here are just trying to have a good time. Why don't you go harass some other poor unfortunates?"

The Corinthian cocks his head towards the knight with a cold smile. The squire shifts uncomfortably, pulling away from the Nightmare.

"Maybe this is a bad idea..." The squire comments with concern. The Corinthian turns to look at him with a confused huff.

"Hey, don't let this asshat scare you out of a bit of fun. He's just fearmongering."

The Nightmare's reassurance doesn't seem to do much to settle the Squire's nerves, as he hesitantly turns to head back to the tavern.

"I dunno, I don't wanna fuck around with the Dark Knight..."

"Hey, baby, come on-!" The Corinthian protests with agitation as the Squire hurries back towards the tavern. The Nightmare half turns to shoot the Dark Knight a spiteful look. His lips pressed thin as he scrutinises the man who had ruined his night.

"Thanks a lot, asshole."

#((corinth went to acting classes jajajshsj #ic

[eyeless-smiles]

The Nightmare's brows furrow slightly as the dark knight comments about a killer within the city. The squire by his side clearly showing a modicum of fear in his eyes. The Corinthian grips the young mans hand tighter. A sign of reassurance. A simple gesture meant to soothe the uncertainty that the knight is stirring in the squires gut.

The Corinthian recognises who this is. Gothams Dark Knight. Some asshole in a suit of armour who takes it upon himself to do the city guards job. The Corinthian scoffs softly, glancing at his counterpart. Playing the role of agitated bystander who has gotten caught up in something that doesn't concern him.

"Look, darlin'. Myself and my company here are just trying to have a good time. Why don't you go harass some other poor unfortunates?"

The Corinthian cocks his head towards the knight with a cold smile. The squire shifts uncomfortably, pulling away from the Nightmare.

"Maybe this is a bad idea..." The squire comments with concern. The Corinthian turns to look at him with a confused huff.

"Hey, don't let this asshat scare you out of a bit of fun. He's just fearmongering."

The Nightmare's reassurance doesn't seem to do much to settle the Squire's nerves, as he hesitantly turns to head back to the tavern.

"I dunno, I don't wanna fuck around with the Dark Knight..."

"Hey, baby, come on-!" The Corinthian protests with agitation as the Squire hurries back towards the tavern. The Nightmare half turns to shoot the Dark Knight a spiteful look. His lips pressed thin as he scrutinises the man who had ruined his night.

"Thanks a lot, asshole."

Fantasy AU | @cxpedcrusxder

Despite the influx of panic within the kingdom in recent years, the Nightmare has been as active as ever.

The stories that have been passed around from wary parents to their children and superstitious patrons to newcomers have done little to deswade townsfolk from enjoying the Kingdoms nightlife. Yet their panicked whispers still linger on everyone's ears.

Don't go out alone at night. Don't frequent the taverns or brothels. Be wary of handsome strangers.

Should the Corinthian steal your eyes.

It's easy to pick around those in the crowd who believe the suspicions. Who tread carefully about their business. Men who parade around with gutsy confidence are the ones who the Nightmare tends to set his sights upon.

They believe themselves untouchable. Some are squires, some are knights. Some sons of merchants with more money than they could ever hope to spend within a lifetime.

And they always fall for the same trap. A sultry, warm voice, and a smile. A simple proposition, and a cheap tavern room or a back alley.

A few minutes later, another body is added to the Corinthian's kill count. And the numbers keep stacking up.

Yet another successful night of hunting is coming to its enchanting finale. He has a cute little squire around his waist, drunkenly murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. Purring with contentment over the offered affection as he guides his company towards a more private little back alley behind the tavern.

The Corinthian grunts with surprise when, distracted with his soon-to-be meal, he bumps right into someone. The rattle of armour perking his ears.

The Nightmare staggers a little, glancing up in surprise - no wonder he hadn't seen the guy. It's a knight, dressed entirely in black armour. In a dark alley? Fucking impossible to see.

"Woah- is that..?" The squire on Corinthian's arm perks up in awe, whereas the Nightmare scrutinises the knight with mild agitation.

"You make a habit of standing in dark corners in that thing?" He disrespectfully snarks, much to the chagrin of his company.

#ic

[eyeless-smiles]

Those helpless eyes dare to leave his visage. Flicking to the left, caught in a glimmer of dying, frantic hope. Emphasised by the weak arm outreaching towards something that is not the Corinthian.

The Nightmare's lips press together. The lack of attention from his victim irking the monster as the mortal lets out his dying breath.

The Nightmare turns his head to follow the last direction those begging eyes had looked - and what he finds standing there is fascinating enough for him to dismiss the frustration raised by his meals focus being torn away from him.

Tall, masked, and unwavering in the face of violence. The stranger reeks of death. Had the Nightmare not known any better, he would have pitted the stranger for a fellow Nightmare.

Lips part to reveal two rows of pristine, dangerous teeth. A cutting smile that threatens a promise of violence. His grip remains unwavering on his victim's jacket when his body eventually slumps. Held up with the strength of one arm alone.

"Did your mom never teach ya it's rude to stare, big fella?" The Corinthian taunts, scrutinising the hulking mystery man's looks. He can't get a good look at his eyes, not with that obscuring mask.

But hey, if the dishevelled mountain of a costume enthusiast insists on sticking around, the Corinthian might as well put on a show.

His attention snaps back to the dead man, and he raises his knife to pry his first prize free of his socket. A glistening, ocean blue iris. Expertly gouged out of his head. A quick jarring tug once it's in his hand, and the ocular nerve tears, popping free.

@pumpkinstabs

Corinthian prefers making his kills somewhere a little more private. Seducing willing victims back to a motel room or their own place. Bathroom stalls and back alleys do in a pinch, but they can get messy. What with possible witnesses and no easy way to hide a body.

But sometimes, a gorgeous pair of eyes are just too good to pass up on. And their owners get spooked. Too weary to follow a stranger home.

Hence why he has this prettly little thing pinned to a wall in the back alley of a local restaurant.

Those icy blue eyes stare up at him with lust and trepidation. Quickly twisted into betrayal and mounting horror when the mortal realises this isn't just some back alley hookup. The sharp, cutting steel of his blade caresses his victims throat as the Corinthian lurches over him like a starving wolf. His sultry smile taking on a sharpness that is fare more sinister.

"What do you want-- money?? My wallet is in my pocket, please, take it-!" Futile attempts to beg for his life fall on disinterested ears. A low chuckle of dark intent rumbling within the Corinthian's auxilary throats as those concealed maws begin to drool with anticipation over their next meal.

"Oh, I don't want your money, doll."

The Nightmare looms closer. The mortals eyes widen with utter terror as they catch a glimpse of gnashing teeth beyond the depths of his shades.

"What are-!?" Shaky words are cut short by the sweeping embrace of Corinthian's blade across the young man's neck. Crimson billowing forth to cascade down his shirt whilst any further attempts to speak get stuck in his slit throat.

"That's it, baby. Die nice and quick for me." The monster muses as the human hopelessly clutches at their throat- then the Nightmare's lapels. Grasping, choking, trying with desperation to fight off the monster that has him pinned.

But his attempts don't seem to phase the Nightmare in the slightest. A golden hand viciously grips the dying man's jaw. Forcing his victim's eyes to meet his own so that the Corinthian can witness every frantic emotion that flashes through them.

So caught up in his ritualistic killing, the Nightmare is too preoccupied to pay attention to the world around it.

#ic #gore tw #death tw #eye gore tw #pumpkinstabs

[eyeless-smiles]

As cryptic and unhelpful as ever. The Nightmare doubts he will get much information out of the crazy little killer like this. As focused and intent as he is towards those strangers around the campfire, the Nightmare deduces that this is some sort of ritual. Pawns sacrificed by busy hands that anxiously fidget with their weapon.

The Corinthian, being the ever greedy thing that he is, won't take vague exposition as an answer.

"I'm nobodys puppet." The Corinthian answers icily, as he rounds from the barrier to instead focus on the one man he can reach.

A knife materialises within his hand. Starving maws zeroing in in those hollow dark eyes.

"And I have a way of getting all the answers I need."

The knife wielding madman isn't proving to be much help. It is likely that whatever is truly happening here is far beyond the scope of humans to comprehend. The Nightmare can sense that this is another dimension, but that comes from millennia of traversing between them himself.

This place is unrecognisable, however. It's not a dream. It's not reality. There are trails of nightmarish fabric sewn into the world, but this isn't the work of the Dream Lord.

Flicking his tongue across his lips, the Corinthian tests taking a step towards the campfire where a few mortals sit. But something is blocking his way. An invisible force willing him back. The monster raises his hand to tentatively press against the unseen barrier. Its magic is unlike anything he has ever seen.

"You smell of death." The Corinthian utters when his attention is dragged back to the man on his side of the partition.

"You smell like their deaths." A half nod is made towards the few survivors gathered around their campfire.

The entire dimension reeks of death. And yet here everyone is, sitting around, very much alive.

"Care to explain that?"

#ic #leadxxr #dbd au

[eyeless-smiles]

Fantasy AU | @cxpedcrusxder

Despite the influx of panic within the kingdom in recent years, the Nightmare has been as active as ever.

The stories that have been passed around from wary parents to their children and superstitious patrons to newcomers have done little to deswade townsfolk from enjoying the Kingdoms nightlife. Yet their panicked whispers still linger on everyone's ears.

Don't go out alone at night. Don't frequent the taverns or brothels. Be wary of handsome strangers.

Should the Corinthian steal your eyes.

It's easy to pick around those in the crowd who believe the suspicions. Who tread carefully about their business. Men who parade around with gutsy confidence are the ones who the Nightmare tends to set his sights upon.

They believe themselves untouchable. Some are squires, some are knights. Some sons of merchants with more money than they could ever hope to spend within a lifetime.

And they always fall for the same trap. A sultry, warm voice, and a smile. A simple proposition, and a cheap tavern room or a back alley.

A few minutes later, another body is added to the Corinthian's kill count. And the numbers keep stacking up.

Yet another successful night of hunting is coming to its enchanting finale. He has a cute little squire around his waist, drunkenly murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. Purring with contentment over the offered affection as he guides his company towards a more private little back alley behind the tavern.

The Corinthian grunts with surprise when, distracted with his soon-to-be meal, he bumps right into someone. The rattle of armour perking his ears.

The Nightmare staggers a little, glancing up in surprise - no wonder he hadn't seen the guy. It's a knight, dressed entirely in black armour. In a dark alley? Fucking impossible to see.

"Woah- is that..?" The squire on Corinthian's arm perks up in awe, whereas the Nightmare scrutinises the knight with mild agitation.

"You make a habit of standing in dark corners in that thing?" He disrespectfully snarks, much to the chagrin of his company.

#ic #((i hope this works! #fantasy!au #closed rp #cxpedcrusxder

[eyeless-smiles]

The Endless had moved faster than the Corinthian could perceive him. One moment atop his throne, the next his billowing robes obscure the Nightmare's vision.

His head snaps to the side. His torso bending beneath the velocity. A hand shooting out to catch the ground beneath him in order to keep his balance. Wide mouths blink in utter shock. Only realising that he had been struck when the bitter sting of pain erupts across his reddening cheek.

The Corinthian is stunned into frozen silence. His gaze centered on the stone beneath his hands. Unable to raise it to meet the weight of those burning stars. He can feel their judgement, piercing through his body like ice. Flaying apart his skin and exposing his core.

There's that word again. Disappointment. The Dream King knows it hurts. He knows it shatters the Corinthian's sense of self. He is actively watching it happen within his core right now, exposed and open and cowering defenseless.

When Dream finally reveals that he doesn't plan on ending the Nightmare, his visage finally raises to meet his Kings. Blood stains the edges of his maws where he has tried to desperately swallow down his anguish.

There it is. That small, pin sized sliver of hope. Dream's words are venomous, but he has not yet given up on the Creation.

That is all the Corinthian needs. He hates it, that he is so easily swayed towards adoring Dream for his forgiveness. But it is inevitable. They will continue this game of tresspasses being forgiven, just as Onerios had played with the First Corinthian.

The Nightmare's gaze falls onto the collar that clatters against the harsh stone, and his immediate feelings towards it is repulsion. He doesn't want to wear it. He doesn't want others to see him wearing it.

"I will not leave." He utters, seething past the tightness in his throats.

"I don't need this, My Lord. I will not leave."

One Mistake | @eroskissedskin

He'd fucked up.

He'd fucked up, and Dream was going to find out.

He always does.

The Corinthian paces the Dreamers bedroom with an anxious feverishness. Golden fingers trailing through his blond locks with traces of fresh blood.

The room is empty. The Dreamer is awake now. Probably desperately dialling 911 to report an attack by a man from his dreams.

It had just been a split-second decision. One the Nightmare would never have made, under the right circumstances.

No, if Dream hadn't been neglecting him as much as He had recently, the Nightmare would have never sought out this mortal lookalike.

If Dream hadn't been so fucking cold and angry with him all the time. If He hadn't been keeping him on a short leash for the mistakes his predecessor made, he wouldn't be here.

It was just instinct when the Dreamer had looked up at him with tear filled blue eyes- welling with fear. The Corinthian couldn't help but slip from the fabric of dreams and into reality. Into the Dreamers bed.

Atop the real thing.

It was a brief, thirty second affair. The Corinthian had caged the mortal down. And his knife- now very much real, carved against the screaming boys skin like butter. Releasing the biting scent of blood into the air.

A spark of excitement flickers in the back of his mind that felt like a distant memory being relived. A part of the old Corinthian rearing its ugly head.

It was the smell of blood that abruptly sent the Nightmare scuttling back to the Dreaming with his cosmetic heart hammering in his chest.

Dream couldn't know. It was so quick- He wouldn't have noticed the Corinthian's absence, would he?

All he did was cut the mortal- smelled his blood, tasted his fear.

But this is Dream we're talking about. The second iteration of the Corinthian has been walking on eggshells with Him for months since his remaking. Would Dream see this slight as a crime worthy of his undoing once more?

The Nightmare takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Wishes the blood away from his frame. He's fine. He's in the Dreaming, where he belongs. Dream wouldn't have noticed his split absence, He has better things to do.

Turning towards the door, the Nightmare steps out of this now redundant dream to find somewhere to hide for a while.

#ic #eroskissedskin

[eyeless-smiles]

— YOUR AFFECTION.

Gestures  of  affection  starters.  Can  be  platonic  and  romantic.  Send  me... (Send  🔄  +  any  emoji  to  reverse  the  outcome.)

💓  to  listen  to  my  muse's  heartbeat. 💏  to  softly  kiss  my  muse's  forehead. 💋  to  kiss  my  muse  on  the  lips. 🤭  to  caress  my  muse's  cheek. 🌸  to  offer  my  muse  a  flower. 💅  to  paint  my  muse's  nails. 💗  to  lean  against  my  muse. 💝  to  wrap  an  arm  around  my  muse. 🤗  to  hug  my  muse  from  behind. 🫂  to  pick  my  muse  up  and  twirl  them  around. 👰  to  hold  my  muse  bridal  style. 🤝  to  hold  my  muse's  hand. 🥞  to  bring  my  muse  breakfast  in  bed. 🤜  to  give  my  muse  a  noogie. 🤏  to  tickle  my  muse. 😋  to  give  my  muse  their  favorite  snack.

#gib him love ❤️ #rp meme #ask meme #open

[eyeless-smiles]

Dream knows his words hurt. He knows they lash at the Corinthian's core like a bullwhip. More effective and damning than any physical torture can exert.

The Nightmare can only ever experience such raw emotion when the Endless makes his disappointment of him known. No matter what the Corinthian does, or how he tries to please, it's never good enough.

"My Lord...!" The Dreamkin protests against the Endless's conclusion that the Creation hadn't been made any better this time around. The Nightmare scrambles forward a little on his knees. His hands slamming into the stone beneath him to release some of the brimming frustration that rises in his gut over the comparison.

"I am nothing like him! I have been loyal! I strayed - I strayed, but I returned! I came back to you! Despite-" The Nightmare bites his tongue, flustered as the monumental well of unspoken frustrations towards Dream finally comes bubbling up.

"Despite how you treat me! You still torture me for the First Corinthian's mistakes! You ignore and refuse me- like I am an outcast! The other Dreamkin fear me! Your hate and suspicion trickle into them!"

The Nightmare grimaces as he speaks. Knowing that releasing these harboured thoughts will only make the Dream Lord more furious.

But what has he got to lose.

"I am left with nothing but desire for your approval, and you give me nothing! I can see it, now- why the First Corinthian left your side. You are trying to emulate the Firsts betrayal with me- because you believe that I will fall into the same pattern. You want me to fall into the same pattern."

One Mistake | @eroskissedskin

He'd fucked up.

He'd fucked up, and Dream was going to find out.

He always does.

The Corinthian paces the Dreamers bedroom with an anxious feverishness. Golden fingers trailing through his blond locks with traces of fresh blood.

The room is empty. The Dreamer is awake now. Probably desperately dialling 911 to report an attack by a man from his dreams.

It had just been a split-second decision. One the Nightmare would never have made, under the right circumstances.

No, if Dream hadn't been neglecting him as much as He had recently, the Nightmare would have never sought out this mortal lookalike.

If Dream hadn't been so fucking cold and angry with him all the time. If He hadn't been keeping him on a short leash for the mistakes his predecessor made, he wouldn't be here.

It was just instinct when the Dreamer had looked up at him with tear filled blue eyes- welling with fear. The Corinthian couldn't help but slip from the fabric of dreams and into reality. Into the Dreamers bed.

Atop the real thing.

It was a brief, thirty second affair. The Corinthian had caged the mortal down. And his knife- now very much real, carved against the screaming boys skin like butter. Releasing the biting scent of blood into the air.

A spark of excitement flickers in the back of his mind that felt like a distant memory being relived. A part of the old Corinthian rearing its ugly head.

It was the smell of blood that abruptly sent the Nightmare scuttling back to the Dreaming with his cosmetic heart hammering in his chest.

Dream couldn't know. It was so quick- He wouldn't have noticed the Corinthian's absence, would he?

All he did was cut the mortal- smelled his blood, tasted his fear.

But this is Dream we're talking about. The second iteration of the Corinthian has been walking on eggshells with Him for months since his remaking. Would Dream see this slight as a crime worthy of his undoing once more?

The Nightmare takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Wishes the blood away from his frame. He's fine. He's in the Dreaming, where he belongs. Dream wouldn't have noticed his split absence, He has better things to do.

Turning towards the door, the Nightmare steps out of this now redundant dream to find somewhere to hide for a while.

#ic #eroskissedskin