#[ casually referencing rue's sila here because HNNNG.]

[nightmarecountry-a]

♦ - grab my muse’s hair and yank ( from desire, for the second corinth 👀 )

There it is, the feeling he's been missing: a pain that isn't on the inside, a hurt he can really feel, can make sense of and fight or yield to. The second Corinthian grits his teeth and bears it, digs his nails into Desire's throat as if it means something, as if an Endless can be harmed by something as insignificant as a nightmare.

"Harder," he hisses, trying not to think of Sila--

(nails on his scalp, sweet smile and scarlet lips, his eyes; his eyes have the strongest feelings still attached to them, hunger and want, the few emotions he got to keep when he was made a nightmare again. he can't love but he remembers when he could and did)

--and failing, thinking of him, knowing Desire knows it because Desire knows everything he has ever and will ever want. He needs this to be harder, rougher, needs it to be nothing like Sila at all. Nothing like Dream either, who the second Corinthian has never touched but the first certainly did, whatever the fuck that was.

"Hurt me," he demands, glaring them in the eyes. "I'm a nightmare. I can take it."