#the corinthian/reader

[corinthianism]

i know places | the corinthian

pairing: the corinthian/gn!reader tags: forbidden love, friends to lovers warnings: minor oc death(s)

Contrary to popular belief, Dreams and Nightmares were not mortal enemies. There was no reason for them to be when they were made for the same purpose: to serve humanity and to aid Lord Morpheus, their king, in fulfilling his duties as one of the Endless. What was unheard of, however, were Dreams and Nightmares falling in love. Morpheus believed it to be a hindrance to his creations’ work, so he went to great lengths to prevent it but no matter what he did, love always seemed to slip through the cracks. All of his creations were complex, like humans, and they were reflections of their master. If Morpheus was able to love, so did they… but his ego was too great. He forbade romantic relationships between Dreams and Nightmares unless they wanted to be sent into the Darkness for an unknown amount of time. Some were fortunate enough to be brought back after two years, some five, some a hundred, and others were still there even after a full millennium.

The most notorious of these lovers were previous members of the Major Arcana. Morpheus noticed their absence in the minds of dreamers and was shocked to discover them trying to bargain with Destiny so that they might be able to live in the waking world, permanently. Belleza and Yadju were disintegrated together in front of all the residents of the Dreaming as a warning as to what would happen should Morpheus’ rule be questioned. In the end, he thought he was protecting them from the dangers of love, but a dream without love was no dream at all. 

You were there that day, and so was the Corinthian. 

Dreams and Nightmares weren’t enemies, but that didn’t mean they acted as one unit. After all, they had different things to do. However, the Corinthian just couldn’t stay away. It seemed like you couldn’t either. He was a Major Arcana, and you… well, you were a minor dream. Even if your jobs were completely different, he was still very much like your boss in a way. A boss that loved to flirt with you, get on your nerves, or both.

It was your job to make sure humans saw animals in their dreams. You trained creatures of all sorts, from dogs to dragons, to do what they needed the dreamers’ to see in their mind's eye. You were grateful that Lord Morpheus created you for this purpose, so not once did you ever question his rule. The Corinthian, on the other hand, frequently talked about his doubts without fear of the consequences. You weren’t sure why he came to the stables so often. Someone like him probably had better things to do. Or maybe he didn’t. Either assumption was unsurprising.

“You ever wonder what it would be like not to have to be covered in animal shit all the time?” he asked you one day out of the blue—the horse you were feeding neighed in offense. If you were a horse, you probably would’ve done the same thing.

“Uh, I don’t think so. You ever think about not having eye-teeth?” you retorted, going back to your job. He nodded his head and pursed his lips as if to say touché . “And besides, if you were so worried about the poop then just go somewhere else. I didn’t ask you to come here, y’know.” 

“Ouch, sweetheart. I’ve been here for five minutes and you’re already turning me away?” he placed his hand over his chest.

“That’s five minutes too much around you.” 

Safe to say, you weren’t a stranger to these conversations that might get you imprisoned for treason. You never said anything in agreement anyway and you hoped that that would be enough for you to get away with it. These conversations, or more accurately… rants, from the Corinthian continued for over a century. But nothing would come out of it. You were still you, he was still him. One change did happen and it was in those moments the two of you shared: constant insults turned into affectionate teasing. Playful pushes turned into the brush of your hands against his. Heated staredowns turned into appreciative glances. Scoffs turned into poorly-hidden laughter at inside jokes. 

That century didn’t change either of you, just what you were to each other. And it was terrifying. Belleza was one of your friends, despite the differences in your position. She was an inspiration to you: she was everything a Dream should be and you watched her die along with everybody else in the Dreaming. As traumatic as it was for everyone, you knew Morpheus was not a cruel ruler by any means. You knew he meant well, you just couldn’t understand why he felt the need to ban love in a kingdom of dreams and of hopes. You were lucky to have him as your king compared to most... but his decisions were too extreme. This intensity would put a dent in your loyalty and sometimes, a dent was all you needed to break a whole wall down. You thought about Yadju, the greatest Nightmare Morpheus ever created, and the Corinthian’s predecessor. Yadju was supposed to be the amalgamation of all of humanity’s darkest fears. but he fell in love and it killed him. It killed your friends. Every time you looked at the Corinthian, you can’t help but see their reflections in his shades. Would that be your fate as well? Had you doomed yourself to the Darkness because you chose to follow your hear?

In your little cottage at the edge of the kingdom, you sat by the fireplace. In the Dreaming, residents got everything they could ever need or want. It was a privilege you knew humans didn’t always have.

“But we’re not free to love,” you thought. It was a dangerous game to play in this realm, so you kept your thoughts to yourself.

There was only one other person who thought differently and you knew he had just entered your humble abode. The Corinthian approached you slowly and sat next to you.

“Well, isn’t this comfortable?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, shut up.”

He laughed and took your hands in his, letting you lean on his shoulder. You sighed deeply and closed your eyes. Moments like these were rare nowadays. Morpheus had been giving you more work recently, and as always, you couldn’t really complain.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asked, humming as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“I just…” you paused. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to be human?”

“All the time. I probably wouldn’t have to wear these damn shades if I was human.”

You sat upright and looked at him, “No, I mean… do you ever think about how much freedom we would have?”

“You know what would happen if we tried to leave,” he frowned. “Morpheus would have us exiled for just escaping to the waking world. Imagine if he found out we’re…”

“We’re what?” 

“If he found out that I love you.”

And there it was: the sweetest, purest admission a Nightmare could ever give. The same admission that just might send you to your death. You slumped against him once more and kissed his cheek. He smiled. As long as you managed to make everything look normal, you would be safe. You were okay as long as you had him.

The year came and went, and with it, so did your hope for a new life with your love. You would continue to tame animals for the world's dreamers, and the Corinthian would continue his work as the wake-up call humanity needed from time to time. One day, he proposed an idea to you so blasphemous that you froze in fear of what Morpheus might do if he even heard of it. As soon as you came to your senses and understood what your lover was trying to do, you could only do your best to stop him from going. Even if you knew you couldn’t.

“I’ll go to the waking world—” “No!” “—And I’ll find us a place, yeah? I’ll find a way to keep us safe. I’ve always been very good at that, haven’t I?”

You tried to shut him up, hands trembling as you gripped his shoulders and looked frantically at your window because you never know if somebody might already be listening.

“ We managed to stay safe by keeping our lips shut and I think you forget we’re made out of the same stuff as his tools! His helmet alone would be able to track us down no matter where we go!” 

“Then I’ll find a way to get rid of it!”

You laughed bitterly. Not only was it dangerous; it was impossible. It just couldn’t be done and knowing the Corinthian, he’d rather die trying than not try at all. You, on the other hand, would rather have him here with you alive instead of trying to escape and inevitably failing. It was stupid to think that you’d have a chance against Dream. You knew your lover knew this too so you wondered why he even considered the possibility. He knew something, then.

“...Why are you so adamant about us leaving? You’re smart enough to know we don’t stand a chance against him.”

“I already went to the waking world,” he admitted quietly, lowering his head.

You felt your eyes go as wide as saucers, “You WHAT?! Is that why he left today? I heard from Merv that Dream left to go find someone, I didn’t think that would be you! Of all people!”

But before you could continue your scolding, you realized one thing: why was he here and not at the palace?

“Why… How are you here?”

“Dream didn’t send me back. He got… I don’t fucking know. It’s like he was being pulled back by something. I came back here to see you. He isn’t around to bother us anymore,” he said, one hand going down to brush against yours resting at your side, the other cupping your cheek. “We can be free, sweetheart. You and I don’t have to keep hiding anymore. I don’t have to be covered in animal shit just to talk to you and you don’t have to watch me chase humans around. I know you want it as much as I do.” 

What you didn’t know then was that he already talked to Roderick Burgess. He instructed the old man to build what would become your creator’s prison for the next century, and all you knew was that your lover got lucky. 

“But… the Dreaming. The work… the animals! Oh my god, what would we even do? I don’t know the first thing about being human,” you panicked. He only chuckled and kissed the spot between your brows. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. I got you. I always will.” 

He led you outside of the kingdom: to the endless sea of sand that comprised most of Dream’s realm. Your heart was racing. In anticipation? In fear? You weren’t sure. It was an odd feeling to have. Every second outside the gates only made it more intense. The Corinthian, on the other hand, seemed as cool as a cucumber. He donned that grin that first drew your ire, and then your love, and then you knew he would never let you get into harm’s way. He never seemed the type to let go of what was his and boy, were you his.

“Nervous?” he cooed teasingly. You frowned at him but could only sigh in defeat.

“I’ve never been… to the waking world, I mean,” you whispered. “What if… he catches up to us? There aren’t a lot of things in this universe that can contain an Endless.” 

“Then fate is in our favor then, but don’t get me wrong, honey, whatever happens next? That is entirely up to us. I’m not letting some fucking guy, especially not him, take you away from me. No,” he seethed, all while holding you close to him. He separated from you to take a good look at your face. “You, my dear, are gonna get everything you will ever want and need, everything that you’ve ever dreamed— hey, don’t laugh —dreamed of.” 

“All I could ever need is you,” you said softly. “Home is wherever you are.”

As if on cue, sand swirled around you and the last thing you saw was his smile that told you everything he needed you to know.

—

On Earth, life was incredibly fast-paced. So different from everything you’ve ever known. The first few months made you incredibly homesick, but there was no turning back once you received word that the Dreaming started deteriorating in your master’s absence. You couldn’t help but feel as though that was your doing. There was this guilt gnawing at you every second of every day, reminding you of your previous obligations. Even the Corinthian had trouble soothing you when the worst of it came. Perhaps your loyalty to Dream was an inherent thing you’d never be able to overcome. You were glad to have your lover with you; ever-present and ready to whisk you away from your troubles if he couldn’t completely eradicate them. 

Before you knew it, a decade had passed. One of your main concerns was homesickness, but as always, the Corinthian found a way. He gave you everything mortal life had to offer… but the most cherished gift he gave you was your own home in the countryside: surrounded by greenery and a constant gentle breeze. It was your home with him, with pieces of the both of you in one space. It was beautiful. Perhaps too good to be true. 

As if on cue, he was there again. He wrapped you in a warm embrace from behind as he peppered light kisses all over your neck and shoulder, “Hey sweetheart.”

You hummed, “Hi, honey.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat. “Nothing much, just the usual, y’know. What to feed the chickens, where to get a-”

“You’re rambling again,” he said matter-of-factly. In one swift move, he turned your body to face his. “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby, maybe I can do something about it.”

“You spoil me.”

He gave you a look and you knew then that you had no choice but to cave in, “It’s Dream.”

“What about him?” he raised a brow, his hold on you loosening just a bit as he sat a little straighter.

“I… I can’t stop thinking about what would happen to me. To us. God knows what happened to him but I just… what if he comes back? If he’s dead, shouldn’t we be dead as well? That would mean he’s alive somewhere!”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Baby, we already talked about this. We’re not dead, yes, but there’s that sleepy sickness going on that’s probably because of him. Why can’t you accept the fact that maybe we can be our own person?”

“Because we never were in the first place! Don’t get me wrong, I want to be one. I want to be one so bad, but every day I wake up and I remember that I’m made of fucking sand!” 

The Corinthian frowned. He enjoyed many things; arguing with you was not of them, especially if it was about that emo twig they call their creator. He let out a deep, deep sigh, and took of his glasses. Even without eyes, you knew he was looking right at you. His hands, rough and calloused from centuries of hunting-killing-repeat, cupped your cheek. It was a gentleness that he would’ve otherwise not have if it wasn’t for you. In the dim light of your living, he wished he could stay in the moment forever to soothe your worries. To knead away the soreness in your muscles. To kiss you until your cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

It was all he could ever want and he certainly didn’t appreciate the fact that the reason you were so stressed in the first place was Morpheus, “Sugar, when have I ever lied to you? When we first came here, I told you we would be safe. That has not changed. I just need you to trust me. I’ve never failed you before, have I?” 

You shook your head, eyes glued to the floor. The Corinthian lifted your chin so that your eyes would meet his, and he smiled at you. All three sets of pearly whites telling you, “we’re gonna be okay.” 

His lips met yours then; it was a tender kiss. Like how two children might just try it out at the playground. It was love in its purest form, so much so that the Corinthian almost thinks he should stop and turn away, in fear of ruining it all. But surely… surely, he must’ve done something right to be here in the first place? Nevertheless, whatever the two of you had was real. Something even Morpheus couldn’t take away. This love was divine and it would be protected for as long as time exists. Nobody was taking this from you or your lover. 

Somewhere in England, a cage has burst.

#the corinthian/reader #the corinthian x reader #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman #lord morpheus

[taissabelle]

Therapist: Oh, you definitely have daddy issues

Me: no, I don't

Also, me hours later realizing all my favorite fictional characters are older man....

#one piece #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #shanks x reader #shanks #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john price #joel miller x reader #leon kennedy x reader #könig x reader #jake lockley x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #william afton x reader #loki #morpheus x reader #the corinthian #daddy issues #pedro pascal x reader #oscar issac characters #miguel o'hara x you

[devilishcupid]

hot evil characters who i want to fix but will make me cry if i actually meet them in real life>>>>>>

#lalo salamanca x reader #gus fring x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #august walker x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #otto hightower x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #darkling x reader #bane x reader #jonathan crane x reader #deathstroke x reader #harvey dent x reader #corinthian x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #james moriarty x reader #sebastian moran x reader

[is2katiemccard]

They won't shut us up, no matter how hard they try.

[tw: sexual h*rassment & ass*ult]

Last night (April 12, 2024) was marked by several protests in the Brazilian women's football community.

Teams such as Corinthians, Avaí, Cruzeiro and Palmeiras protested against Santos' decision to rehire coach Kleiton Lima, which had been reported last year by 19 Santos players for moral and sexual harassment. 14 of the nineteen players left the club at the beginning of that season, but at no point did they withdraw their complaints.

The argument used by the Santos board to hire Kleiton again was that none of the allegations had been proven to be true and that, in fact, the board had contacted some players so that they could explain the entire situation. These arguments were quickly refuted after several players took a stance on their social networks saying that such contact never happened.

At the beginning of this year, Santos had already been involved in a major controversy after inviting the former player convicted of rape in Italy and sentenced again in Brazil, Robinho, to a barbecue on the club's premises.

Situations like these only show how even the word of a large group of women is of no value to top executives, or any other man. The situation became even worse in the game between Santos vs Corinthians that took place last night.

Corinthians players and the entire coaching staff protested during the national anthem and in celebration of the goals scored by the team. The game ended with a score of 3-1 for Corinthians, but the worst detail is the goal scored by Santos.

After tying the match in the 14th minute of the first half, Santos player Ketlen ran to the edge of the field to celebrate the goal by hugging Kleiton.

As long as women like her try to silence other women, we will never evolve as a society.

If you are a victim of a situation like this, or any other, look for your rights and report it.

#women football #woso #woso community #woso soccer #woso x reader #corinthians #corinthians feminino #brazil #bra wnt #brwnt #brawnt #brazil wnt #fcb femení #arsenal wfc #nwsl #wsl

[endless-ineffabilities]

Masterlist 📝

A regularly updated list of my works; all are x f!Reader unless otherwise stated. If you wish to be tagged for any specific story, or all future works with a certain character, please comment on the specific post!

Please do NOT copy, repost, steal, or translate any of these! My works should only exist here, on Tumblr. I have not and will not post them on any other platform, nor do I consent to any other individual doing so.

The Sandman

Morpheus / Corinthian

Ineffable (series) *on hiatus

Corinthian

Easy on the eyes (series) (18+) *on hiatus

Morpheus

Only you can set alight the fire in me (oneshot)

House of the Dragon

Daemon Targaryen

Without you, I would not be (upcoming series)

This world was never meant for a fire like yours (part one - part two (18+) - unalloyed - part three.one - )

in the shadow of your heart (part one - part two)

She is my heart (oneshot)

ñuha mērī jorrāelagon (oneshot)

feast (oneshot)

rogue ink (oneshot)

turning red (oneshot)

Aemond Targaryen

prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me?

part two: and what of your love? (18+)

part three: the flames that divide (18+)

part four: the aftermath

part five: never tear us apart

part six:

part seven:

some jealous Aemond Targaryen scenarios

burn them all for you (oneshot)

a little game (modern au oneshot)

hmm (a christmas drabble)

sepār iā sylutegon (just a taste)

your heart's serrated edges are much like mine own (oneshot) (18+)

sapphire-hearted - part one - part two - part three -

dragonfire (oneshot)

Daemon and/or Aemond

A dance with two rogue dragons (oneshot)

If these walls could speak (18+)

midnights imagines : question...? - anti-hero - labyrinth - lavender haze - maroon (part one - part two - part three - part four)

dialogue series: King? -

Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker

As I believe in you (oneshot)

there's hope for us, yet - part 1 - part 2

MCU

Bucky Barnes

babydoll (oneshot)

reconnaissance - one - two - three

Steve Rogers / Bucky Barnes

The Bolter - part one - part two - part three - part four - part five -

World On Fire

Tom Bennett

tongue in cheek (one - two - three - four )

John Wick 4

Marquis Vincent de Gramont

le marquis et le moineau - (ill)fated - first dance -

#masterlist #morpheus x reader #the corinthian x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #the sandman netflix #bucky barnes x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #steve rogers x reader

[morpheusbaby3]

Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:

#dream of the endless fluff #morpheus x reader #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #lord morpheus #the sandman x you #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus fluff #morpheus x leitora #dream of the endless smut #the corinthian #lucienne the librarian #lucifer morningstar #alex burgess #desire of the endless #the sandman headcanons #the sandman imagine #the sandman art #the sandman memes #neil gaiman

[uri59]

I feel so proud y'all!

Finally my goth son is getting laid 😸

#I feel like a proud mama who just released her goth son to the Beatles-fangirls-type #he doesn't have the best history with mortals you know? 😅 #the sandman #Sandman #dream of the endless #Morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #also I knew the Corinthian was going to be sexymanified too #morpheus x y/n #dream x y/n

[the-darklings]

Matthew calling Wanderer "Lady Dream" killed me dead and the only thing that can resurrect me is a drabble of Dream himself saying it (please)

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 1.2k+

warnings: jealous!Dream if you count that as a warning.

notes: got an idea that's too potent when I saw this, so LETS GO!!!

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

“I messed up.”

Dream Lord doesn’t pause in his measured stride at your edgy words, his flame-kissed coat trailing after him. The Dreaming castle is abuzz, accommodating additional visitors from different domains, and you can’t recall the last time everyone was this frazzled. Everyone has come together as a well-oiled machine would, but tension hangs thick in the air. No one is happy about the new visitors or their purpose for being at the Dreaming. Dream himself hasn’t had a free second since; indeed, neither have you.  

“I highly doubt it,” he replies.

“No, Dream. I did mess up.”

“You have wandered realms for millennia, Wanderer,” Dream reminds, slowing to peer at you over his shoulder. His features soften a touch from their near-permanent rigidity lately. His voice, too, eases into a husky, gentle drawl, “You are familiar with royalty and courtiers from countless kingdoms. A great number of them regard you highly. Your insight and advice in navigating this situation have been greatly appreciated.”

Your unease quells briefly, soothed by his sincere comments. It’s still too easy to be caught off guard by Dream’s attempts to be more open, more appreciative of those around him. 

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, forcing down a gulp. “It's hard enough to remember a dozen different customs not to insult the guests. But I wanted to bring this to your attention first. Personally. So you don’t hear it from someone else first or, worse, the narrative gets twisted.”

Dream Lord rotates your way fully, moving closer. You’ve paused in a gallery. A new addition to the castle with multiple tapestries stitched from thick, luxurious cloth that hang across previously barren walls. Each one depicts various panoramas from different domains across the cosmos. It’s been a small, self-indulgent project you’ve undertaken in between travels, but given your recent company, it has gone down better than expected. Everyone relishes their kingdoms being paid homage to in the land of dreams. 

“What happened?” Dream questions somberly. “Did someone hurt you? Threaten you?”

Your hands wring together at the seeping darkness in Dream’s voice, fingers knotting. You swallow under his steady, hard scrutiny. 

“No, nothing like that. Certainly not with Cori around. It’s just… Cluracan invited me for a walk in Fiddler’s Green and, well, you know how he is. A flirt and an outrageous one.” A forced chuckle escapes you. Dream doesn’t smile or laugh with you. Some emotion pulses through his regal features, tucked from sight in seconds. “He’s a bit odd for a fae, if I’m honest. Surprisingly, he wasn’t drunk this time. So we got talking, and he was rather charming. It took me too long to realise he was, you know, hitting on me.”

You clear your throat, dragging your stare from the walls back to the Dream Lord standing in front of you. Dream’s bearing is stony, tense, his gaze hooded and mouth flat. Those pale irises seem to glimmer in the dusky light of the setting sun. 

“Hitting on as in… courting,” you rush ahead, examining the strain in his jaw. “He asked if we were mates. And I think I’ve spent too much time around Hob because I figured he meant pals, you know? Friends. I forgot fae have a different definition of ‘mates’. So I immediately laughed and said: Well, of course, Dream and I are mates. We’ve been mates for centuries. So Cluracan got this intense look on his face—I mean, he gets under peoples’ skin even more than Cori—then actually bowed. And then, well…”

Dream seems to glide closer—close enough to touch, to breathe in, his words a cold caress, “Then what?”

You swallow. “Cluracan said: I must apologise, Lady Dream. I meant no insult with my offer. I now understand why Lord Morpheus refused my sister. I would appreciate it if you did not mention this to him. I would not wish to complicate this matter further.”

A shiver races down your spine when Dream’s arm slips lightly around you, settling on your lower back. “And then?”

His words are impossibly soft, but there’s something about the way shadows pool around Dream’s sloping, sharp features that set shivers skittering down your spine. His hand seems to burn through your coat. There’s something about the tension you discern in each digit, as if he’s holding himself back from dragging you nearer and pressing you to him. He’s done so in the past numerous times, tucking you from sight in the folds of his starlit coat. Quiet, peaceful, cold and hot like those raging stars you sometimes glimpse in his eyes. 

“Then he, uh, left.” You don’t dare to move, curious to see what Dream Lord will do next. “And tripped in a creek. Which is weird because I’m certain there’s never been a creek there to begin with. It’s like it appeared out of nowhere. But anyway, I just… I thought I’d better tell you personally because Cluracan seems set on calling me Lady Dream now, and I don’t want you to overhear and take offence to it.”

“Why would I take offence to such a thing?”

You blink at his unhurried, probing question. Dream’s thumb strokes gently downwards—it’s so light, the contact, a mere graze, but there’s such potent power imbued into it you’re as good as naked beneath it, sensing the gesture through clothes and down to your marrow. Your breath wobbles before steadying. “Well, the implication…”

“Implication.” A deep, considerate hum vibrates from Dream’s chest, followed by a weighty, “Does this implication bother you?”

Does it? You’ve never cared for labels. Dream, to you, is everything. Those who matter most are aware of that, so why would anyone and their opinions matter? But they do. Deep down, you’re well versed with power that comes merely from what names you can evoke—whose favour in this vast cosmos you hold. But deeper than that lays a simpler sentiment: if you are his, in soul and name, you cannot be anyone else’s. Until you declare you are taken, then you are open. The brimming, dark scowl and icy, caressing whispers from his lips are displays of discontentment but not at any misstep on your part. But, rather, at the thought of another holding you so close. Another leaning down to touch their lips against yours. At the idea that you would permit anyone else this intimacy.

But there’s a more reticent sentiment to be read in the ancient, weary lines of his unchanging face: if you wanted another, he would not interfere. He would not hinder your happiness if you moved on and found someone else. He would not hinder you even if he wanted to. 

You slant yourself closer. “No, I suppose it doesn’t bother me.”

As if you could ever want anyone else but him. Sullen, stubborn, flawed, but yours despite it. 

Old ghosts flee from his regard, the weight on his shoulders lightening—a tiniest of smiles curving one side of Dream’s mouth.

He slants closer, his breath fanning against your ear. “Good. Because the title rather suits you, Lady Dream.”

an: Cluracan is a canon character that should appear pretty early on in S2 once Netflix stops being cowards. anyway, here's to hoping and hope you enjoyed : )

#the sandman #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #sandman fic #morpheus imagines #dream imagine #sandman dream #sandman corinthian #dream x fem!reader #morpheus x fem!reader #sandman x reader #fic: today i bury you in me

[lazycats-stuff]

Main Masterlist

Sandman (Netflix)

Sandman (Morpheus)

The Corinthian

Lucifer

Desire

DC

Bruce Wayne

Damian Wayne

Tim Drake

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Batfamily

Clark Kent

Ra's Al Ghul

COD MWII

Poly/Platonic/Monogamous 141 and Los Vaqueros

Series/Multichapter

The New Heir

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

#masterlist #dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batkids #cod mwii #the sandman netflix #the sandman x male reader #the corinthian x male reader #lucifer x male reader #desire x male reader #lord morpheus x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #tim drake x male reader #dick grayson #alejandro vargas x male reader #rudolfo parra x male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader #gaz x male reader #john price x male reader

[auroraborealyss]

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?)

𝗽𝗵����𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 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

#the sandman imaginie #corinthian imagiine #corinthian x reader #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian x reader #sandman fanfiction #sandman x reader #sandman imagine #sandman headcanons #the corinthian

[hollybell51]

My contribution

#the corinthian #the sandman (2022) #netflix sandman #sandman netflix #corinthian #fanfiction #reader insert #please sir i am on my knees for you #he’s perfect #he’s awful #he’s so fucking fine #i just think he’s neat #he’s so gorgeous #he’s just a little guy #who engages in questionable hobbies #but a little guy nonetheless #i just wanna kiss him #just one little kiss

[corinthianism]

call it what you want | the corinthian

pairing: the corinthian (the sandman)/fem!reader tags: coffee shop au, hurt/comfort warnings: mentions of violence, murder, and obsessive behavior (all on behalf of the corinthian), implied sexual content

note: hi everyone! this is my first post on this account as i tried to post this on my main one which is @starksnoir, which might be shadowbanned or something. anyway, this is very, very self-indulgent and it’s kind of embarrassing but i noticed that not too many people write for this guy compared to morpheus so i’m throwing this out there: a cliché mess that will hopefully satiate your fantasies about this man, err, nightmare. some parts were inspired by other fics (all here on tumblr), namely “Bring me a dream” by @placeinthemiddleofnowhere, “Nightmare” by @dyns33, and “Protective” by @bi-bard. please check those out those fics if you’re a corinthian lover like me and show those authors some love!

highly recommend listening to "call it what you want" and "daylight" by taylor swift while you read

You never thought your life was particularly exciting. You had your hobbies, sure, but all-in-all the days just blended together in a blurb of organized chaos every human on the planet had gone through at some point in their lives. Your coffee shop was your rock and business was doing well enough to keep you alive and comfortable in New York. You never expected more.

So when a sharply-dressed man wearing thick black shades and a charming smile waltzed into the shop, you didn’t think much of it. You saw all kinds of people every day, why was he any different? It wasn’t until he spoke that you noticed all the little things about him with never-before-seen clarity. It seemed like you were lucky you happened to be manning the counter that day.

“Hey darlin’,” his voice drawled out, elbow resting on the counter. “Been thinkin’ of trying something new. Any recommendations for me, doll?”

He leaned in slightly on the last sentence. It wasn’t the first time a customer came in with flowery nicknames for you, but no one ever quite executed it as this stranger did. Maybe it was some sort of Southern charm he possessed, or maybe it was the smile but he definitely had something a lot of people didn’t.

You raised a brow at him and smiled, “Maybe a caramel macchiato? It’s one of our bestsellers.”

He nodded and hummed, seemingly pleased with the suggestion, “Gimme a large.”

“That would be four dollars, please. Oh and… your name, sir?”

“Just put… Corinthian.”

You wrote it down on the cup, not even bothering to ask. You’ve experienced your fair share of weirdos and pranksters coming in and asking you to write down all sorts of ungodly things on their cups, so it was no big deal.

Five minutes passed and you looked for the man, ready to give him his order. You found him in a corner booth with an arm draped lazily over his seat, one leg rested on top of another, and his other hand tapping on the table. Still, the man was intriguing enough that you decided to add a free muffin to his drink.

“Here’s your order, sir.”

He eyed the muffin and shook his head, “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s on the house.”

The mystery man simply smirked. Then he kept coming back every week.

-----

He didn’t know what made him keep coming back to that tiny little coffee shop in New York, but hunting down Ethel Cripps had proved to be a difficult task, even for him, and he needed a break. The coffee was good, but you were better. Cute enough for him to keep visiting.

If he had to describe you he would say you were… interesting. You sat down with him during your break several times over the past two months. The two of you chatted about anything and everything and it had been the highlight of your day. And his, though he would never admit it. Before then, he frequently entertained the idea of eating your eyes. He'd savor every bit of sweetness your humanity had to offer and he'd have a piece of you everywhere he went but that all went down the drain when one day you brought him some cupcakes you baked yourself.

He just finished going over the list of people that might lead him to Ethel for what seemed like the twentieth time. The memory played in the back of his mind over and over again as he leaned back on his chair. 

“Oh! I almost forgot. I made these for you! Sorry, they’re not the prettiest but I think they’re pretty good." You pushed a warm paper bag to his side of the table.

He reached for one cupcake, took a bite, and hummed.

When he turned to look at you, you stared at him, eagerly waiting for his reaction. For his approval. It was an odd feeling.

“So…?” you inquired meekly.

“It’s good,” was all he said.

He could never seem to erase the image of your smile from his mind, even weeks after.

In all honesty, he often wondered if he was capable of emotions. Positive ones. He felt bitterness and rage towards his creator, and a sick satisfaction with every new kill, but nothing compared to the sheer fulfillment that came with eating eyes. It made him feel oh-so-human. So much more than a Nightmare, and in a way, that's all he could really hope for: to be more than what Morpheus intended him to be. He never really bothered to make connections with humans for any reason besides his own gain, so now, whenever he thinks of you, he wonders if you were the answer to all his questions all along.

The Corinthian knew he would have to leave when he finally found what he came to New York for, but he did secretly hope he could squeeze in a visit every now and then. You were… good company. He knew about that reality TV show you watched every Friday night, your childhood dog whose ashes and photos you kept around in a special corner of your room, the humble beginnings of your coffee shop, and that old university sweater you brought sometimes because it was, quote-unquote, “the only damn thing that could keep me warm these days.”

Maybe he could keep you warm. Best not to entertain that thought. He had only ever been good at making humans cold. You spoke to him with so much enthusiasm, blissfully unaware of who and what he was. You made him feel so free. Ironically, it's what also made him want to stay. The first time you called him by his name had solidified that.

It was raining and one of your employees caught the flu. Polly was a good kid, so you offered to cover her shift for the day. Maybe you could get her some soup after you were done with your work.

It was a slow day, too. Not many customers came, and even less stayed for longer than ten minutes. Just when you thought it would be good to close the shop early, in walked the man you saw every week: all in his handsome blond glory.

"Oh hey cowboy," you greeted cheekily before getting a mop to continue your work. "I thought you weren't gonna come today."

You got in the habit of calling him nicknames as well. You didn't really know his name, and he never bothered to ask yours since you had a tag. He left his umbrella by the door and walked over to you.

He tilted his head and smiled: a soft smile you rarely saw on him in the two months you've known him, "And what makes you say that?"

"Dunno"—you led him to a seat before you began mopping—"not everyone would bother since there's a storm raging outside."

You could feel him watching you.

"For you, sweetheart? I'd do anything."

"Those are some mighty big words from a guy whose name I don't even know," you giggled. "Also, are you gonna order something or what? I might close up shop early since I don't think anybody else is coming in."

He ignored your question.

"Oh, but you do know my name," he leaned back in his seat. "You've known since the day we met, doll."

He could see the gears turning in your head before you laughed in disbelief, "What? Corinthian? No offense but either your parents hated you or you're weird. But if that's what you want me to call you, then… hey, Corinthian."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh, and it shocked him. He didn't remember the last time he did that, or if he did at all. All he knew was that his name sounded so sweet coming from your lips.

-----

The Corinthian was, for the lack of a better word, an enigma to you. You knew he was dangerous and yet he was beautiful. It was like being a moth that can't help but be drawn to a flame. He gave your days some much-needed substance and you couldn't help but want to know more about him. Was it risky? Maybe. You weren't sure if his name really was just "Corinthian" or if he was hiding some big secret. Maybe one was true. Maybe both were. Maybe neither were. It didn't really matter when he looked at you like you were telling him the secrets of the world.

You've never seen him without his thoroughly opaque shades. Whenever you asked, he often reasoned that he had a condition that made him sensitive to the light. Sometimes he was in a smooth-talking mood.

"Well, I have to keep them on or else you'll blind me with your beauty, sugar."

His words ranged from the kind that would make you swoon to the kind that made you laugh with how cheesy they were. There were three things about him that you knew for sure: one, he was a massive flirt. This aspect of his personality was found in every word he’s ever said to you. In recent meetings, he's gone as far as bringing you little trinkets from his "work trips". He never told you much about them but he never failed to bring back some sort of souvenir. Among these souvenirs was a wooden carving of a dog that resembled your childhood dog you told him about before. You even asked him if this was the intention and for the first time, the man had been taken aback as if he was caught doing a crime.

"It's as cute as you; thought you'd like it," he teased, leaning close enough that you could smell his cologne.

The second thing you knew about him was that he was definitely well-off. He dressed and acted like it, too. You realized this when his gifts started becoming more and more extravagant: a gold bracelet there, a simple diamond necklace here.

The third thing you knew about him was that… well, he was lonely. Or at least he seemed like it. Perhaps it was a harsh assumption to make, but of all the fantastical stories he told you of canoe rides in Venice and dinners in Singapore, not once did he mention another person. Not one friend, family member, or significant other.

Significant other. The thought made you uncomfortable. You enjoyed this odd friendship you had with him and yet the boundaries seemed so blurry that you began to wonder about things friends would never do.

-----

The first time you saw him outside of your coffee shop was at a park nearby. At that point, you’ve been seeing each other regularly at the shop for about three months. The park had lots of dogs during the weekends and it was always nice to see them play and be pups. You had just been enjoying a gentle breeze when that beloved Kentucky accent echoed behind you.

"Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here, doll."

You turned around and there he was. Corinthian. The man who was single-handedly making your days (and your nights).

"Oh, hey!" you greeted him heartily. "Didn't take you for the stroll-in-the-park type."

"And what would my type be?" he asked, sitting down next to you on the bench.

"I dunno, me, probably, since you somehow always manage to find your way back to me," you giggled. And then you realized what you said. "Oh. Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

He laughed and took your hand in his. You couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together, "Relax, sweetheart. You know you can do that around me"—he squeezed ever so slightly—"hmm?"

You could only nod slowly.

"And for the record, you're right. You are my type."

He kissed the back of your hand, leaving you breathless, "Now, I think I want some ice cream, don't you?"

You would never forget how he licked his lips, and how much you wanted to kiss him right then and there.

-----

The first time he kissed you was at a carnival. Since that fateful day at the park, you started seeing him more outside of the coffee shop, and you loved every second of it.

He allowed himself to have this. To enjoy this. He knew that Morpheus has escaped and would be coming for him soon, and so he allowed himself the pleasure of being with you while his creator was busy looking for his tools.

You led him by the hand to a game of darts, your eyes wide and sparkling at the giant teddy bear displayed at the front of the small booth. With what he could only describe as the determination of a massive toddler, you walked up to the booth and handed in ten bucks.

The guy behind the booth looked up from his phone and looked at the two of you, before scoffing and taking the money, "Knock yourself out."

The Corinthian watched you hopelessly try to hit the bullseye, but none of the darts were sticking.

"Wha- This is rigged!" you exclaimed. The boy laughed mockingly at you.

"No, but a couple more tries might do the trick."

Your date rubbed circles on your back to calm you down before stepping forward and handing his own ten bucks. The guy greedily took it and gave him a new set of darts.

The Corinthian winked at you before throwing the dart.

You knew it was gonna land dead center, but what you didn't expect was the force of his throw being so great that it split the board.

You could barely contain your excited squeals before grabbing both of his cheeks and kissing him. Needless to say, he was left speechless.

"She tastes like vanilla and soda," he thought.

-----

The first time you saw his "eyes" was just a couple of days later. He had settled wonderfully in your life, and while the two of you never made anything official, you were happy.

He made a dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant you've never been to so naturally, you got all dolled up for him. The dress you wore was the classiest one you could find in your wardrobe. It was plain red: a color he expressed a fondness for on several occasions.

But the taxi driver dropped you off just a little bit earlier than he should've, and you still had to walk for a minute or two to get to your destination. Unfortunately for you, New York was never the safest of places.

"Look what we have here," a man stepped out from an alleyway you passed.

You froze up. Catcalling was not unfamiliar to you, and yet you still couldn't bring yourself to stay calm when it happened. Your heart was racing.

"Come on, sweetcheeks, don't get so shy around us," another man stepped closer to you and you could smell the cigarette smoke and a pungent something emanating from him. "The jacket needs to go, I think, show us that slutty little dress you're wearing."

"No, I don't think she'll be doing any of that, fellas," a familiar voice intervened. "Not unless you want to lose your eyes."

You could almost cry with the amount of relief that washed over you. The two men who were harassing you, however, not so much. If anything, they got even more hostile.

"Ah, this your girl?" one man taunted, tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. The Corinthian hummed and grinned. It was the kind of grin you found to be very menacing at the moment; nothing at all like the cheeky one he would don during your weekly meetings. "After we're done with her, she won't be."

The other man charged at him, a pocket knife ready to stab into the Corinthian's jugular, but nothing happened. You blinked and all you could see was your date, your partner, standing tall as his attacker slowly fell to his knees with heaving breaths. In his hand was his own knife, now bloody.

The first man took a step back, and tried to make a run for it. He pushed you to the side, thinking it would buy him time but the Corinthian placed an arm on his shoulder, and suddenly all hopes of an escape were thrown out the window. Your date helped you up with his other hand and guided you to get behind him.

"Y'know, I don't appreciate filthy fucking bastards like you messing with my girl," he snarled, stepping you closer to the man who was now shaking. The Corinthian brandished his knife once again, ready to strike when you grabbed his wrist. He turned to you with a look of surprise and lowered his weapon when the other man used it as an opportunity to land a weak blow to the Corinthian’s face and run off.

The strike had removed his sunglasses… and then you saw it: the teeth.

You didn’t run, you didn’t scream, but you sure as hell didn’t get any closer to him. What kind of person had TEETH for EYES? Meanwhile, as you stood there in shock, the man in front of you, if you could call him that, calmly picked up his shades from the floor, wiped them with his handkerchief, and removed your grip from his wrist.

“Well, the jig’s up,” he laughed, but it was empty and unlike anything you’d heard from him before. You could only stare at him. The first man to make you feel something in ages was definitely not human. “What? Were you expecting baby blues?” he asked bitterly, almost accusingly. Almost as if he had hoped you wouldn’t react the way you did.

The only thing you could bring yourself to ask was a weak “why?”

He wasn’t expecting that. You had genuinely looked so confused once your fear had somewhat dissipated.

“Why. Why?” he repeated, seemingly in disbelief. He quickly got angrier by the second, “I’m like this because I was made by some heartless fuck who didn’t give two shits about what I wanted! HE ONLY EVER CARED ABOUT THE FACT THAT I DID WHAT HE MADE ME DO!”

“And… and what did he make you do?”

“I’m a NIGHTMARE!” he bellowed out, the harsh truth of his existence finally out in the open. “He made me like THIS,”—he pointed to his eyes—”because he wanted me to scare the living daylights out of people whenever they slept because a-fucking-pparenly, I’m only capable of being a MONSTER. ”

You could barely follow what he was saying, but you saw his brows furrowed in anguish and how his lips quivered ever so slightly at his admission. You pulled him in for a hug then and touched his cheek; a gesture that was enough for him to freeze up. You gently put his shades back on and held his hand. You always knew deep down that there was something about him that was different, but you also knew that he deserved to be heard. It was hard to push him away in that moment when all you could think about were the late night calls, the ice cream dates, and all the little sacred moments in between. He saved you, and the least you could do was take his cold hands in yours and do your best to help.

“Let’s go to my house, and then you can tell me everything,” you murmured. “This isn’t the best place for me to find out about all of this.”

His breathing was slowly going back to normal again, no longer heaving from rage. He didn’t know if he deserved your kindness. Or your love. He wasn’t even sure if he could call what he was feeling “love”, but this… if this wasn’t love, then he would never want to find love with anyone else. You looked into his eyes, two voids behind the teeth, and touched him like he was fragile. His instinct would be to never let you go; it would keep you with him for as long as he wanted, whether you wanted to or not but he knew that the conscious part of himself would do anything you asked him to do at the drop of a hat. And he would still revere you. You were not Dream and so the Corinthian would follow you to the ends of the Earth, of every realm: he would follow you even into the Sunless Lands. He would worship you, knowing that it was the sweetest, greatest act of defiance against his former master.

So he let you lead him into a taxi back to your home, occasionally squeezing his hand all while you leaned into him and breathed in his cologne. He could feel your heart race. If he had one, it might’ve been doing that too. In your house, where in every corner he found a piece of you, he knew this was most authentic feeling of humanity he could ever get. He probably wouldn’t cease his activities, but he would settle for this, whatever this is, if it meant he could stay with you.

In the comfort of your home, he told you about his past and he explained how much there was beyond the waking world: things humans could seldom wrap their head around. He told you of the Endless, of his own creation courtesy of one of said Endless, but he was careful to omit his own involvement in trapping Dream and keeping him under the Burgess Mansion for over a century. He painted a picture for you: a Nightmare seeking fulfillment and purpose beyond his intended function, silenced by his oppressive all-powerful master. He told you how once he realized that his master wouldn’t be coming after him anymore, he finally felt free. It was the perfect sob story, and it was mostly true. You will never know the things he’s done, nor will you know the things he will do. He didn’t say anything about Dream’s escape. He would deal with it.

Now, as he lies in your bed with your head resting on his bare chest, two naked bodies intertwined, he thinks he could keep you here forever. He’s already got a new lead anyway: Rose Walker. A dream vortex. He was certain, if anybody was going to solve all of his problems, it would be her. He turned to you, stroking your hair, and pressed a chaste kiss to your head. You smiled in your sleep and nuzzled closer to him.

-----

He took you to London, and then Cape Kennedy in Florida. The former you could understand, and as for the latter, not so much.

“Just a treat for my angel for working so hard,” he proclaimed with a kiss on your lips when you asked. You would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. It was a nice change of pace, and you were guaranteed to be spoiled practically every day. You left the coffee shop to Polly and your friends. They encouraged you to go along with your now-boyfriend.

“Oooooh, oh my god, Miss, you should totally go!” she squealed. “I love you but, you need a break. And you need that very hunky boyfriend of yours to help with that.”

You may have pinched her arm for that.

So here you were, a hotel away from the convention your boyfriend had been invited to as a guest speaker. All you knew was that he worked as a consultant, which would explain all the work trips he went to. Perhaps he had been exceptional in his field and was conducting some sort of seminar. Your phone rang while you were getting ready to do some solo exploring.

You picked it up and saw the contact name: cowboy <3

“Hey honey,” you spoke. “What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing much to be honest. Just a bunch of people here who appreciate my work,” he responded nonchalantly.

“Oh, okay. You think they’d give me a ticket or something if I said I was your girlfriend?” you joked. He went silent.

“Baby, I don’t think this is a good place for you to be,” he paused. “Lots of misogynists and cryptocurrency nerds here. But if you insist, make sure you call me beforehand, hmm? I’ll be sure to give you some real… VIP treatment.”

On the other side of the phone, he was confident that once he got into Rose Walker’s head, there would be no problems, but oh, was he very, very wrong. Deep down, he knew Dream would be coming, and it was only a matter of time until one of them managed to sway Rose to their own side. His thoughts were racing as he stepped up on stage and settled for a dignified stance behind the podium. There, in front of him were dozens of “collectors”, humans who adored him and what he did. He… dreamed of a world in his image. These people were just the beginning. One day, he would start everything anew.

Before you, fulfillment came in the form of murder. Of eating their eyes and witnessing everything so unique to humanity. Experiences he’s been robbed of because of Dream.

“I don’t usually speak in public,” he began. “But the opportunity to talk to so many people who share the same passion, the same dream, well it was just too good to pass up… because you are special people; very special people.”

Your plans to take a tour around Cape Kennedy had been cut short by your own need to see your boyfriend. It wasn’t hard to figure out where the convention was being held, given that there was only one other hotel that could serve as a venue.

To your surprise, it was completely unguarded. The guards, nor any of the staff, were nowhere to be found. You saw some of the posters and cards that decorated the lobby, which then gave you the location of the main stage. Oddly enough, you started feeling fatigued with every step you took. In a few moments, you were in front of the big doors that separated you and your lover, given how his speech was scheduled to take place at this time of day. Instead, you could hear him talking, but not in a way someone would when talking to a crowd.

It was muffled, but you could still make out what he was saying, “If you think I’m going back to the Dreaming with you—”

“You’re not going back,” another person replied. You felt shivers run down your spine. You knew that voice. Why did you know that voice?

“I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

“Do you know why I do it?” your lover asked in response. You heard nothing from the other man. “So I can taste what’s it like to be human. And you don’t care about humanity. You only care about yourself, and your realm, and your rules.”

You decide to enter as quietly as you possibly could so that you wouldn’t inadvertently make things worse and so you could be at your partner’s aid if need be.

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”

“Or you might actually feel something,” you watched the Corinthian, now without his shades, staring down the other man. They couldn’t look more different but you knew your boyfriend was the one in danger. “I am not the problem, Dream.”

“You’re right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you… but I created you poorly then, so I must uncreate you now,” the man, who you now knew as Dream, replied with a sense of finality,

Your breath hitched at “uncreate”. The two men finally looked at you, unaware of your presence before then, and watched with wildly different expressions as you walked closer to the stage they were standing on. Dream looked at you with mild surprise and curiosity though he remained mostly indifferent to you. As if there was nothing about you that would change the outcome of this story. The Corinthian, on the other hand, was near his breaking point. All his emotions were bubbling up to the surface, threatening to tear down all his walls at the sight of you. He looked so defeated and scared, but you could see his love. You could see his desperation. His fears and hopes fighting in the name of your safety.

“What- what is going on?” you breathed out.

“What are you doing here, sugar?” he asked you softly, trying to hide his panic. “I thought I told you to call.”

“Please don’t do anything to him, sir,” you approached Dream. “I- I don’t know what’s happening but please, please, don’t do anything to him.”

You wished you were strong enough to stop the tears welling up in your eyes and to not look pathetic in front of this cosmic entity, but you would endure if it meant you could save your partner, or at least buy him enough time to get away. Your hands shook so you clasped them together, hoping you could maintain some sort of dignity. You could hear the Corinthian start begging you to stop what you were doing; to have some common sense. How it wasn’t worth it. You tried to block him out. He jumped off the stage and grabbed your shoulders. To hell with Dream. He would touch you one last time if this was to be his end.

“(Y/n),” he gasped out. That finally got your attention. You looked at him, brows furrowed. He never called you by your name. “You… don’t have to do this. You have a whole life ahead of you, doll. Don’t throw it all away for me.”

“But you’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“I don’t want to die, but I don’t want you to go where I can’t follow.”

“The Darkness isn’t so bad, I'm a Nightmare, remember? I'll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, though you could see that even he couldn't believe his own words. “I’d just miss you too much.”

You let your tears flow freely onto his suit jacket as you pulled him into a hug. He kissed you. It was so different from all the other kisses you shared. It was desperate. It was full of longing. It was sacred. If anyone else could see you right now, eyes closed and holding each other in a tight embrace, they would think you were just a normal couple. The version of you from six months ago would’ve never thought of dreaming of that monotonous normality she couldn’t escape, but now it was your greatest wish: that you and he could walk out of that room alive and well with no worries besides what you were going to have for dinner and how your coffee shop was doing. You felt him freeze up, just like when you saw his eyes for the first time all those weeks ago.

“I’m sorry. I love you,” he whispered. As he turned to sand your arms, you could do nothing but watch and feel him wither away. You fell to your knees in anguish, looking up at Dream and you knew there was nothing you could give that would bring your lover back.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but this was for the best,” the Endless spoke softly, as if trying to protect you from the grief he caused. “He killed many people over the past century that I was gone, and while he had a true reason for doing so, I cannot let him continue lest I fail my duties. Surely you have wondered what he did for a living?”

You didn’t answer, so he continued, “I know this will not fix the pain I have caused you, but I have his memories. I know his love for you was, no, is true. As is yours. You were the one good thing that happened to him in all those years he wandered this world alone, and I thank you for taking care of him.”

Everything faded to black.

-----

In the Dreaming, Lucienne cautiously approached Dream. Unity Kincaid sacrificed her life for her granddaughter, and Rose Walker lived to see another day, now with her brother and her friends who loved her as much as she loved them. The royal librarian, however, could not get over the fact that the Corinthian, of all people, had fallen in love with a human. She then tried to find an answer in the only way she knew how: books, but even that didn’t give her a clear answer. You were an average person.

“My lord, how… how is it possible that the Corinthian found love? I read the story of her life and there’s nothing of significance in there, at least nothing in particular that would draw him to her,” she inquired, exasperated.

“My creations are as much a part of me as I of them, Lucienne. All Nightmares and Dreams have the capacity to feel as I do, perhaps I should’ve seen it coming,” he answered truthfully. “What is most surprising is that when I… unmade him, I saw his memories. I saw his devotion. I saw a lot of myself in him in those moments but unlike me, they may have had a chance at a happy ending if I had not intervened. I do not regret taking him away, I’m only sad to be the reason two lovers were torn apart.”

“Do you intend on remaking him, sir?”

“Yes, but not now, the world does not need him yet.”

“But she needs him. You know she does. And while we can hope for the best and expect her to move on, even without her memories of him, she will feel an emptiness. She has been dreaming, my lord. Of him! She shouldn’t be able to do that!”

“What?”

“You know what this means. It’s not often the Fates let soulmates meet,” Lucienne insisted hopefully. "You can erase him from her mind, but her heart will never forget. God forbid you separate the first bonded soulmates to appear in the last thousand years."

-----

You never thought your life was particularly exciting. You had your hobbies, sure, but all-in-all the days just blended together in a blurb of organized chaos every human on the planet had gone through at some point in their lives. Maybe one thing about you was that you had recurring dreams of blond hair, and woody cologne... and being called different petnames? Maybe it was your dating status screaming at you to get laid. Oh well. Your coffee shop was your rock and business was doing well enough to keep you alive and comfortable in New York. You never expected more.

So when a sharply-dressed man wearing thick black shades and a charming smile waltzed into the shop, you didn’t think much of it. You saw all kinds of people every day, why was he any different? Except he was. You couldn’t help but stare and try to remember where you saw him.

Then he spoke, “Did you miss me, sugar?”

He looked up at you from behind his shades, revealing the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

-----

note (again): hi! you made it to the end. i hope you liked it and the enjoyed the surprise soulmate au at the end. please let me know what you think as i'm considering moving to this blog and perhaps posting more corinthian (or dream)

#the corinthian #the corinthian/reader #the corinthian x reader #the sandman #the sandman spoilers #the sandman fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert fic #f!reader #boyd holbrook

[leyladoesntknow]

The Corinthian and his sunglasses collection appreciation post.

-The Sandman

#the corinthian #the sandman #the corinthian fanart #the corinthian fanfiction #the corinthian headcanons #the corinthian icons #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian netflix #the corinthian sandman #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian x y/n #the sandman art #the sandman cast #the sandman corinthian #thesandmanedit #the sandman fandom #the sandman headcanons #the sandman icons #the sandman netflix #the sandman the corinthian #boyd holbrook #appreciation post #sunglasses #we need season 2 #imma go feral #hes too hot #this man is fine as hell #this man is gonna be the death of me #please #ilovehim

[is2katiemccard]

ᅟᅟᅟ tolerate it | alessia russo x brazilian!reader, duda sampaio x brazilian!reader

Summary: Everyone goes through bad times in life, but some attitudes can end in mistakes and sometimes there is no way back.

[AN: I'm working on some requests but I couldn't stop thinking about this plot, so here it is! This will be a mini series with two other chapters, hope you like it <3]

ᅟ The last few months have been hell for Alessia. The first blow was the crisis that their secret relationship was facing.

ᅟ During the World Cup you, the English striker's girlfriend, were feeling very overwhelmed, after all, that would be the first time that you would play in that tournament for your national team. As if that wasn't already a huge weight on her shoulders, every day her coach made a point of repeating the same words to the team.

ᅟ “Are you really going to allow the queen of football to retire without a world title with the national team? I don't care if you're young, old or what, you need to give everything for her. Marta deserves this and I will not allow you to ruin this experience for her.”

ᅟ Pia Sundhage was an admirable and successful woman, but she definitely crossed some limits and the most serious thing was almost completely taking away the identity of the Brazilian team. It wasn't news to anyone that Brazil was known for its beautiful, passionate style of play, full of tricks and skills, but since the woman arrived as coach shortly after being eliminated in the 2019 World Cup, things have changed drastically.

ᅟ Despite being a young player, you already had your fair share of experiences at an international level as you left the club that formed you very young and followed Geyse, your colleague and best friend, out of Brazil. A few years passed and while the other girl shone in Spanish lands playing for Barcelona, you enjoyed the contrasting experience of living in London and playing for the red team in the north of the city.

ᅟ It was during one of Arsenal's games against United that you met Alessia and it's safe to say that from the first moment you found yourself in love with the girl with blue eyes and blonde hair. To your surprise, she also ended up really liking you and at the end of that match you exchanged t-shirts and a small note came with hers and contained your phone number and an invitation to dinner.

ᅟ The rest was history, and a story worthy of romance books, by the way, but little by little the whole situation began to fall apart and you seemed to be the only one interested in putting together and pasting all the pieces of your love. While you fought for her, Alessia didn't even recognize any gesture and just worried about her own life and career. She kept it a secret and made a point of hiding it in a trunk under lock and key. Not even your family and closest friends knew that you were a couple and that hurt, a lot.

ᅟ You begged the blonde for help not once, much less twice or three times but she just ignored your messages and calls with the excuse of being too busy preparing for the competition, which wasn't completely a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. While all this was happening and your condition was only getting worse, your teammates noticed how miserable you looked, but they couldn't understand why. It was only when Luana ran after you after a training session that they began to understand what you were going through and despite the help that the midfielder and all the other girls provided you, you never managed to fully recover as a huge part of your problems was your secret relationship.

ᅟ The trigger came at the final whistle in the game against Jamaica, making his biggest fear come true. Brazil was out of the World Cup in the group stage and your heart, which already had some cracks in it, broke in half once and for all. Your eyes roamed the stands hoping to find Alessia somewhere since she had promised she would be there for you, but your search for her was in vain. Without even realizing how it happened, you found yourself kneeling on the field with your face in the grass in front of Marta's boots, who was trying to comfort you while you cried profusely. All the cameras were on you and the Queen of football, knowing how sad and meaningful that image was.

ᅟ Tears were still flowing from your eyes like a waterfall when you felt a weight on your back and two strong arms pressed against your fragile body. All the other players, both Brazilian and Jamaican, gathered around you forming a large circle and sympathizing with the difficult time you were going through. It took some time, but you finally recovered enough to lift your head off the ground and face the older woman in front of you who was looking at you with teary eyes and you were about to break down again when Duda's low voice reached your ears and you body turned to face the girl who held you in her arms so carefully.

ᅟ Just like you, Duda was also part of the new generation of players, she currently played for the best team in the country, the same one that had revealed you to the world a few years ago. You had many things in common, but for some reason she seemed to avoid your presence, always choosing not to stay by your side for long and looking away from your direction. At first you thought she didn't like you, but Luana and some other colleagues assured you that it was just her shyness speaking louder, however, despite all that, she was the one by your side at that moment, looking at you with so much affection that your breath caught for a few moments. The brunette offered you a welcoming smile before extending her hand for you to hold and get up, but noticed how your legs shook when trying to do so and decided to take the action of picking you up and carrying you to the changing room.

ᅟ The more time passed, the harder it was to face reality. Little by little, the devastating sadness gave way to anger, and from anger, to revolt. The local atmosphere was hostile and heavy, each player was dealing with it in a different way, but they all had some thoughts in common, you could have done more, you should have done more. Even in the midst of that chaos, all the players' phones were exploding with messages and calls from family, friends and even players from other national teams who showed solidarity in that difficult time. Despite that, it took almost an entire day for Alessia to contact you and when she did, God, it was disastrous.

ᅟ It took some time, but you managed to convince the blonde to meet you in person in the hotel room where your team was staying.

ᅟ "What do you want from me? I have more important things to do than talk to you.” She said as soon as she reached her room, taking off the hood and glasses she wore as a disguise. Her words affected you more than you wanted to admit and after closing the door and making sure no one had seen the blonde enter your room, you walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. At that moment it became clear that you should get straight to the point with her, knowing that trying to stall would only make things worse.

ᅟ “Good night to you too, Alessia.” Your voice carried a certain irony and the coldness with which you treated her was unusual. “Since you are a very busy woman, I will get straight to the point. I can no longer stand the way you are treating me and I can't maintain our relationship if you continue like this. I know you're avoiding me and I can't understand why. We’ve always been open with each other and you’ve just signed for Arsenal, which I think should only improve our relationship, but you’re more distant than ever.”

ᅟ The striker seemed surprised by your words since you never liked conflicts or more serious conversations like this, and, despite knowing that you were right, she couldn't help but mock you, maintaining an air of superiority while crossing her arms over the chest.

ᅟ “How many times do I have to tell you that I need to focus on my career and the World Cup, hmm? I thought that by this point in the championship this would have become very clear.” You even tried to interrupt her to better explain your point of view, but she didn't even give a chance. “No, you already had your turn to speak, now it’s mine. And, what do you know, you're right, I really am avoiding you because I can't deal with your neediness anymore. Lately you've been so unbearable that I don't even feel like having a conversation with you. I’m a world-class striker, I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit and your problems.” God, how her words hurt. It was hard to believe that the girl in front of you who was putting on such a narcissistic show was the same one you had fallen in love with and loved madly.

ᅟ “Oh, now I understand. So what you want to tell me is that I have to be emotionally available to you in your worst moments just like I was when the United fans turned on you but you can't return the favor because you are a world class striker?” The temperature of that conversation was increasing quickly, as was your voice, which certainly caught the attention of your friends in the next rooms. “How selfish you are, Alessia. I can't believe you mean all this, what happened to you? When did you become so stupid and snobbish? Did winning the Euros get to your head that much? Because a fucking title doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing or nobody.”

ᅟ “If by being a snob you mean I'm a realist, then yes, I'm a complete snob. Don't you notice the difference between us? I was instrumental in winning the Euros while you weren't even able to help your team get past the group stage of the World Cup. And don’t be fooled into thinking that I signed for Arsenal because of you and our relationship, I did it because it was best for my career and because your team needs a real player like me.” The tone of voice Alessia used was completely humiliating and the cruelty of her words was so much that it left you speechless. Your girlfriend knew how insecure you were feeling about this tournament and in addition to not helping you with that, she made sure to destroy you once and for all. The woman you loved did this to you, and you couldn't believe it.

ᅟ The expression on your face was one of pure pain and betrayal, your throat was dry and you didn't even know what to say while the blonde was still in front of you watching you with that air of superiority, but when you got up from the bed she was scared. Your body language screamed wrath and your eyes shone from the tears you refused to let go. It was at that moment that Alessia realized everything she had done to you and how much her attitude affected you. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach and the worst person in the world, but now it was too late.

ᅟ "We are over." Your sentence was said indifferently, as if you and the striker didn't have a history. “Get out of here. I don't want to see you ever again” It was obvious that you were containing your emotions, and, in order not to have to deal with them, you walked to the door of your room, coming face to face with Lelê, Geyse, Duda and Luana in the hallway. They had heard everything and were about to invade the room. You looked at them with panic, not knowing how much they had heard, but Alessia was still standing in the middle of the room, shocked by her own actions. “I TOLD YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” Your scream was powerful and disturbing like a thunderclap and broke the British woman out of the trance she was in.

ᅟ She had never seen you like that. At the same time that you looked so fragile her body was filled with anger and she knew it was better to do what you said. She left the room slowly, startled by the presence of her teammates who were already there and noticing the arrival of others. Despite this, she had the audacity to try to approach you and say something, but Letícia, Luana and Geyse took a step forward while Duda pulled you away from it. The attacker seemed to want to insist on that, but the goalkeeper blocked her path. Letícia and Alessia were the same height, but the brunette's physical condition made her more threatening and firm like a brick wall. Fortunately her presence was enough for the lioness to give up on her plan and leave in a hurry, like a coward.

ᅟ Only when her silhouette disappeared behind the elevator doors did you allow yourself to give in, running back to the bedroom and, later, to the bathroom, where you barely had time to lift the toilet lid before throwing up. A few seconds later you smelled Duda's perfume around you and her hand on your back, trying to comfort you just like she had done a few days ago. You had no idea what her level of English was and how much she had heard and understood of the conversation, but regardless, she was there, by your side, again.

ᅟ You could hear Luana's voice, imagining that she must be explaining the whole situation to the other girls who arrived after the commotion in the hallway and as you thought about how horrible that situation was, you realized that in a short time you and your ex-girlfriend would play together on the same team. Suddenly the nausea was back and you felt everything spinning around you. Little by little you got better and finally came out of the bathroom, seeing all your teammates crammed into the room and ready to welcome you into their arms.

ᅟ It took a few hours and a lot of explanation on your part, but eventually everyone understood the situation and shared the same anger as you. They were all worried about what would happen in the future since you two are Arsenal players and would see each other every day in a matter of a few weeks, and that worried you too, but it was after a few minutes in silence that Tamires made a suggestion that made your eyes shine.

ᅟ Soon you, the blonde and Duda were in front of the door of Cris Gambaré's room, the director of women's football at Corinthians who was helping the Brazilian coaching staff. When she finally answered, the three of you smiled slightly and the woman took a deep breath, knowing that she had a problem to solve.

BREAKING NEWS: Arsenal midfield star Y/F/N will go on loan to Corinthians, the club that revealed her to the world. The team was surprised by the request, but accepted after some insistence from the player. She must leave for Brazil immediately and will return to Arsenal as soon as the South American season comes to an end in December.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #duda sampaio #duda sampaio x reader #brwnt #x reader #lionesses #engwnt #woso #imagines #corinthians feminino #arsenal wfc #wlw #fanfic #brazilian!reader #valerie writes! #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #woso community #corinthians

[babybatsunite]

#dream of the endless x reader #the sandman netflix #sandman morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless #Corinthian #death sandman #morpheus

[morpheusbaby3]

when my favorite fanfic writer no longer writes about the character we were both obsessed with (because now he has a new obsession) and now I'm like "are you cheating on our husband/wife?"

#x reader #fanfic #imagine #fanfic writing #the sandman #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian #the sandman fanfic #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru imagine