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the-everqueen · 7 months

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look. this fic started as crack taken seriously except now it's getting longer than a one-shot and we haven't even reached the crack yet. so i'm posting a snippet to like. encourage myself to finish it.

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One thing has proven consistent in Matthew’s life, both as a human and as a raven to Dream of the Endless: changes in management are never smooth. It doesn’t matter how much you plan in advance, it doesn’t matter whether the new boss is qualified—things are gonna go sideways, at least until everyone adjusts.

Don’t get him wrong, Matthew doesn’t doubt that Morpheus did everything he could to ensure the Dreaming’s wellbeing before the Kindly Ones came for him. But jeez. Daniel Hall was a toddler just a few months ago and now he’s the next Dream King. Which Lucienne keeps telling Matthew isn’t quite right: the boss isn’t gone, the Endless are their functions, in some cosmic-fate sense Daniel was always already going to be Dream, yada yada.

Matthew doesn’t buy it. He went to the wake. He gave his tribute.

The kid is all right. But Matthew can’t shake the memory of him clutching the emerald at his throat, the echo of that familiar deep voice cracked down the middle. I am afraid. Hard to hold anything against him—he couldn’t have known what he was signing up for, and this ain’t exactly the kind of job that attracts volunteers. Still…the newness is unsettling. The realm feels like it’s on edge, waiting with bated breath to see what happens.

Which is how Matthew finds himself in search of a delinquent Nightmare.

The Corinthian, Dream tells him, has not shown up to work for the past several days. Dream doesn’t use those words, says failed to perform his function with a kind of detached precision like he’s reading from a script. It makes Matthew feel a little sick, though he’s ashamed to admit it: Morpheus’ words in an unfamiliar mouth.

He ignores that for the more pressing question: “He’s back in the Waking World?”

“No, he has not departed the Dreaming.” Dream’s brow furrows in transparent concern. Weird weird weird to see an identifiable emotion on that face—at least, one that isn’t annoyance or resignation. “I would know what he is doing, if not attending to dreamers.”

“Can’t you—I dunno—check in? You’re the boss.”

What Matthew doesn’t say is, that bastard promised me a reprisal. What he doesn’t say is, I heard Lucienne say he was supposed to be your masterpiece, but he gives me the creeps.

Morpheus would have heard these unspoken protests and said, You don’t need to like him to fulfill your duty to me. This Dream frowns and says quietly, “I don’t know that he would welcome my intervention.”

And that’s new, Dream taking into account someone else’s feelings, particularly one of his creations whose past incarnation—pardon the French—royally fucked him over. Then again, Daniel would have known the Corinthian as a protector of sorts. Maybe he’s feeling a residual fondness, that kernel of humanity come back to haunt the rest of them.

The thought makes Matthew sad. He ruffles his wings. “Yeah. Yeah, all right. I’ll fly around, see whether I can find him.”

Dream doesn’t give him any hints about direction, but Matthew figures it can’t hurt to swing by the Corinthian’s house. Well, “house” is a generous term for the architectural Kleenex box where the nightmare chooses to reside, as close to the shoreline as Dream would tolerate. Matthew wasn’t around to know whether it’s a relic of the first Corinthian, but he thinks it’s an eyesore regardless.

He swoops in through an open skylight. The place is too fucking massive for just one person, in his opinion, so it might take him awhile to search—

“Hey, birdie.”

Matthew lets out a croak of surprise and banks to land on something that might be a side table, might be a piece of driftwood enlisted for Aesthetic Purposes™. The Corinthian is sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by skeins of colorful thread. Instead of a knife, he’s got a needle pinched between his fingers, which he’s stabbing into…surprisingly not a body, but a piece of fabric stretched across some kind of wooden hoop.

“Man, what the fuck,” says Matthew.

“You’re the one who came here uninvited,” the Corinthian says with a shrug. He resumes the stabbing. Matthew can make out the vague outline of something that might be a duck, embroidered in grey and orange thread. It’s got a knife in its beak. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Delivering an HR report.”

“That’s a lie, Lucienne wouldn’t talk to me even through a middleman.”

“It’s from our mutual boss.”

“The Dream King?” The Corinthian frowns. “What’s he want?”

“For you to do your job, apparently.”

“I’ve been doing my job.”

“Uh, no, you haven’t. Not in the past week or two.”

If the Corinthian were a normal human being, Matthew would say the expression that passes over his face is guilt. The fine lines around his mouth(s) tighten, his eye teeth grind together in a gesture that might be glancing from side to side. But then the Corinthian refocuses on his embroidery project. “Well, tell him not to get his panties in a twist. I’ll be on the clock tonight.”

“If you want PTO—“

“—we don’t actually get paid—“

“—you gotta talk to Lucienne—“

“—I know, I know, submit the requisite forms, blah blah blah—“

“—and not just fuck off on your own, I mean, you of all people should know that.”

The Corinthian tilts his head. Something about the motion makes Matthew’s feathers stand on end. “Me of all people?”

“Well. Yeah.”

“No, no, birdie, why don’t you say what you mean.” The Corinthian flips the needle over his fingers and it transforms into knife. “Tell me how I’m special.”

Matthew lets out a nervous kraw, spreading his wings. “Man, you’re on thin fucking ice, you think Dream is gonna be chill about you killing another one of his ravens?”

“Alex Burgess shot Jessamy.”

“Because you made sure she was cut off from the Dreaming.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Close enough.”

“Really? You think the current Dream King is close enough to Morpheus?”

Matthew shuffles from one foot to the other. He ought to take flight, tell Dream that he found the Corinthian and his lord’s former masterpiece has taken up arts and crafts. Let Dream decide what the punishment for that offense is. But he feels the need to protest, to prove his loyalty. Maybe because he’s the New Guy (if not as new as the latest incarnation of the boss). Maybe because the Corinthian doesn’t get to question his commitment to the job.

He says, slowly, “He’s Dream of the Endless. That’s all there is.”

The Corinthian barks out a surprised laugh. “Guess you’ll stick around,” he murmurs cryptically, and the knife is a needle again. He lowers that awful not-gaze back to his embroidery hoop. “You can tell our Lord Shaper that his renegade hammer will be back to pounding nails tonight.”

“Was that an innuendo? It felt like it wanted to be an innuendo.”

“What doesn’t?” The Corinthian’s smile is all teeth.

Matthew ignores that. “So is this what you’ve been doing while AWOL? Making home decor?”

“What’s it to you, birdie?”

“I dunno, seems out of character. Shouldn’t you be plotting murder?”

“Maybe I’ve been slipping into the Waking World.”

“Nah, you aren’t stupid. You wouldn’t be that obvious about it.” Matthew pauses. “Besides, Dream said you hadn’t left the Dreaming.”

“So he is keeping tabs on me.”

“You’re dreamkin.”

“Yeah, veritable tracking chip built right in.” The duck is gaining feet, bright flashes of color making a pantomime of long strides. “Like knowing where your right hand is.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Would it bother you?”

“Not really. I mean, it doesn’t. When the boss rides along. Uses my eyes or whatever. Feels weird, but that’s what I’m here for.”

Matthew looks around the room. It’s organized like a human apartment, albeit one of those fancy places in Architectural Digest: sleek white sofa and matching chairs, glass coffee table that doubles as modern art, hardwood floors so gleaming Matthew can see his reflection in them. He’d assume it was for show except for details like the discarded books and the blood-spattered “Home Sweet Home” cross-stitch framed on the opposite wall.

“Are you…bored?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Taking up new hobbies, skipping out on work.” Matthew gestures at him with a wing. “I dunno, feels like burnout.”

“And what do you care?”

“Well, the last time you got dissatisfied with your job, a lot of people died—caw, fucking shit!”

He takes flight just in time to dodge the wicked blade that comes at him with eerie accuracy. It sticks in the table with a thunk, before it dissolves into sand.

The Corinthian snarls in triplicate, “That. Wasn’t. Me.”

“Okay! Okay, sorry, fuck.” Matthew circles in the air a few times before landing on the back of a chair. “You could just say so, don’t gotta get all murderous about it.”

“S’my nature,” the Corinthian says, mulish. His fingers sort restlessly through the rainbow of thread. It’s a minute before he chooses a sprig of green and starts threading it into his needle. Sunglasses materialize on his face, hiding his terrible eyes. “What are you hangin’ around for? Don’t you have a report to deliver?”

You don’t have friends, huh. Matthew is smart enough not to speak his observation out loud this time. Makes sense, though. The Corinthian is a Nightmare, and in the narratives he inhabits, all his overtures end in murder. Probably other dreams don’t want to get too close, even if this incarnation is supposedly collared and muzzled. Hell, Matthew didn’t want to come here just to see what the fucker was up to. In hindsight, he assumed something nasty. Not…whatever the fuck this is.

He thinks about what it might have been like, being Morpheus’ favorite. He thinks about Dream saying, I don’t know that he would welcome me.

He thinks maybe the Corinthian is lonely.

“I’m not a messenger pigeon,” Matthew says, ruffling his feathers in mock outrage. “Besides, Dream asked me to check out what you’re doing. You really want me to tell him you got distracted making home decor? Won’t that tarnish your image or something?”

The Corinthian frowns at his wobbly duck.

“He already caught me slacking on the job,” he says.

“Look, I’m just saying—if you want me to tell him you got distracted by some cute nightmare, I’ve got your back.”

The Corinthian curls his lip like a dog. “Why? You think I’m gonna forget about you ditching me back in Svartalfheim? I know you don’t fucking like me.”

“What, I can’t do a favor for a coworker?” The Corinthian’s fingers twitch, and Matthew croaks. “Fine, fine, sure, if it makes you feel better. I cover for your ass and you stop threatening to kebab me, how does that sound?”

The Corinthian stitches a whole patch of grass before he says, “All right. You got a deal.”

“Cool.” Matthew tries not to dwell on how it feels worse than if he’d made a pact with the literal Devil. Okay, no, that’s an exaggeration, Matthew went to Hell the once and he’s not keen on having another interaction with Their Unholiness anytime soon. But keeping a secret for the Corinthian feels a lot like betraying Dream, even if it’s harmless.

At least, he thinks it’s harmless.

Man, he’s going to feel so stupid if it turns out the embroidery is part of some scheme.

He mantles his wings, preparing to take off.

Hesitates.

“You got anything you want me to tell the boss?” he asks.

“Thought you said you weren’t a messenger pigeon.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t pass a word along. As a favor.”

The Corinthian doesn’t respond for a long minute. Matthew starts to think that’s his answer, but then he says, all lazy cheer, “Nah. I got nothing to say to him.”

And Matthew thinks that’s the biggest lie he’s ever heard but it’s not his job to argue, so he heads back to the palace.

#sandman #sandman fic #my writing #the corinthian/matthew the raven #enemies to friends to lovers #daniel!dream #the second corinthian #corimatt #i like the buddy cop dynamic they had in the dreaming comix #but mostly i think i'm very very funny

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ibrithir-was-here · 6 months

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OK, so I've seen Corinthiel approached from a Corintheus angle. And ofcourse you have your fabulous Corinthian Bros AU... But what about from the retired Dreamling trope? How do we reckon these two ships would combine?

Do we focus on the perfection which is hurt/comfort/fluff... Morpheus mentoring a self conscious Daniel. Hob and the Corinthian bonding in a dark mirror of humanity vs the humanist human to ever human way. Daniel and Morpheus finding a sense of self outside of 'Dream' through the couples association...Further strengthening both relationships.

Or...

Morpheus and Hob finally thinking they can relax, walk into the sunset of immortal humanity together... And Cori and Dani purposely deciding to make themselves their problem like the pair of eons old toddlers they are. Aka... The new kids on the block decide to go harass the boomers for the sh*ts and giggles...

Continually showing up at the New Inn as 'regular human' patrons. Until someone tries to hit on Daniel and the Corinthian introduces his knife to their eye sockets.

Hob: Why are they doing this?

Morpheus: I belive it may be some form of cosmic karma we are being forced to endure.

.................

Cori: All I said was he looked good in black...

(Cut to him pathetically sprawled across Hob and Morpheus's bed. In which they're in, valienlty trying to sleep. Because it is 2.26 am.)

Cori: Now he's barricaded himself in his chambers and accuses me of only wanting him as some accessible remnant of the past. How did he get that from, 'Those black jeans really bring out that sweet little arse?'

Hob and Morpheus:........

Hob: (Groans getting up) I'll take him, you deal with Daniel.

Morpheus: (Violently pushes his pillow over his head, swearing in neutron.)

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Daniel: (Doodling Daniel ❤️ Corinthian on New Inn receipts. Complete with little heart eyeballs.)

Morpheus: (Having vivid imaginings of the Corinthian as Consort of the Dreaming))

Hob: Now love, remember what we talked about. Count to ten before unleashing the outrage.

Morpheus: (Eye twitching)

Daniel: (Completely unconcerned, mind drifting joyously amongst the eyeball hearts.)

🤣🤣🤣👏👏👏💛💛💛💛

All of this is marvelous xD

Honestly I kinda love the idea of combining the two? Dream's trying to mentor and bond with Daniel so he's not just thrown into this job he knows is Uper High Stressful without any support, as he's trying to better himself now as well, and wants his successor to have his best chance.

He just did not forsee that this whole.../relationship/ would have popped up in the mean time, and that his mentoring of Daniel would mean that suddenly the Corinthian is almost always there as well, ready to break into any conversation they might be having with a crack shot xD

And then of course Corinthiel decide that of course there's no better place to have date night then at the New Inn. Not even from any sort of mischief at first they just think "well we know the owners so they'll be down with us being Eldritch and all, plus free drinks!"

Though well minded needling is definitely a motive for all their return visits.

#corinthiel #daniel!dream #daniel hall #dream of the endless #dreamling #hob gadling #the corinthian #the second corinthian #sandman

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