#desire endless fanfic

[frost-queen]

Anything you Desire (Fem!Reader x Desire)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Anxiety!human can't understand why Desire chose them out of all the people. Desire picks up on it, comforting you with all the love and fluff you need.

Tick Tock

The minutes were ticking by. Each second the pointer went, you heard it loudly in your ears. Knees trembling impatiently. Unknowingly, you moved your hand up. Biting on your nail. Your body shuddering from the nerves. Looking around, you saw some of the other people waiting in the room. All seemingly at ease. One man was reading the newspaper, his leg over the other one.

A woman was reading a magazine. It was a normal appointment, yet you couldn’t stop feeling anxious. The beating of your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Making you press your hand onto it, to make sure it wouldn’t fall out. Gaze drifting down, you didn’t want to stare too long at the others.

Your gaze flashed up to the clock, seeing the time tick by so slowly. Wanting to look away, you forced your gaze down. Your neck started to feel warm, making you rub it nervously. Eyes widening at the sudden feeling of wetness in your neck. Sweat. You were sweating. It made you rub your palm over your leg.

Without wanting it, your gaze got pulled to the clock again. Making you look frantically at it. You felt like your heart would drop out of your chest. There was a tremor in your hand, you couldn’t shake off. Thinking about when that door to the doctor’s office would open and call you in. It was a nightmare to be here.

Glancing over at the others, you felt like it was visible you were anxious. You started pulling at your clothing, feeling yourself sweat everywhere. The last thing you wanted was entering the doctor’s office with waterfalls under your armpits. The man turned another page as the noise felt like ten thousand more louder.

You were starting to pay attention to those annoying little sounds. The clicking of the pen of the lady behind the counter. The ticking of the clock. The woman setting her heel up and down on the ground out of boredom. Heart beat thumping louder as you felt like passing out. Unable to take it any second longer.

Your stress level reaching it’s peak. Feeling light-headed, you prepared yourself for the downfall. Your gaze got pulled frantically towards the side. The door slowly creaking open as it seemed to take an eternity. The beating of your heart sparked up, making you pant loud. A foot emerged out of the door.

Feeling extremely warm and sweating, you were close to passing out. You expected the other foot to join. To see the doctor appear. When… it didn’t. The foot remained just out of the door as nothing followed. You kept staring at it, expecting the doctor to head out any second. For some reason nothing happened.

It made you rub your sweaty palms over your legs, turning to look at the others. What you saw, made you frown. They stood still. Frozen in time. Stuck in their movement. Weirdly you stared at them. Till you heard a voice. – “My dearest Y/n.” – a voice purred out. Gasping loud, you felt a finger trail from shoulder to shoulder.

The most bedazzling golden eyes meeting up with yours. A wicked smile Desire thew at you. – “Desire.” – you said. Desire shivered from the way you let out the name. Riled up with your sugariness. Desire’s tail swayed behind. You kept your gaze on Desire as your chin got moved up. – “Look at you, getting all anxious.” �� Desire said. A finger swaying aside to let you know not to.

“I…” – you started unable to finish your sentence. Desire’s smile curled, cupping your cheeks. You saw the world around you swirl into a blur before Desire’s lips were on yours. Feeling the loss of touch, you slowly opened your eyes. Greeted with the bright red from Desire’s realm. Desire let go of you, walking up to the comfy seat.

Desire slid onto the comfy seat, draping over it. Desire’s gaze went up to you with a little annoyance. Changing position, Desire went to lay on the stomach. – “Dearest Y/n are you going to keep standing there and bore me?” – Desire spoke.

“No…” – you responded, turning around. Desire’s tail swished excitedly from side to side. You approached Desire. Room was made on the comfy seat for you. You sat down. Desire sitting on the knees. Hands trailing down your chest from over your shoulders. Desire’s hand stopped by your heart, feeling it beat normally once more.

It made Desire gasp at the trickery. Having done you a favour. Preventing you from going over the anxious edge. – “Thank… thank you Desire.” – you said feeling more at ease. Desire’s head moved closer to yours. – “I’ll give you anything you… desire.” – a whisper in your ear.

Desire took in your scent, trailing your face and body like a cat would explore another cat. – “I couldn’t let my sweet girl pass out could I now?” – Desire went on, leaving a kiss just below your ear. You knew Desire had sensed you getting extremely anxious and got you out of the situation before it would become worse.

Desire left a kiss lower on your neck. Enjoying every inch of you. Desire’s tail brushing against your shoulder. Desire’s lips kissed your jaw. Turning your face by your chin. Golden eyes showing you sympathy. – “What is the matter dearest?” – Desire asked knowing you were more lovey dovey in any other situation. – “I like the way you kiss me. Miss me.” – Desire finished, fully captivating your gaze.

Feeling anxious again, you wondered why Desire chose you. From all the people in the world, you were chosen. Not fully understanding how and or why. There didn’t seem to be anything special about you. Desire noticed something was wrong, switching the position on knees. You didn’t need to speak as Desire understood. Seeing it clearly in your eyes.

Desire grabbed you by your chin, forcing you to look. – “You’re scared I’ll let you down. Wondering why I chose you?” – Desire said out loud. Tearing your gaze away, it was an enough clear answer. Desire took your chin once more, forcing you to look. – “I love you.” – Desire brushed a finger against your cheek. – “I love this.”

“And I want it all.” – Desire finished, eyes gleaming with desires. Desire pressed a hand against your chest onto your heart. – “I want you for forever.” – Desire cupped your cheeks, curling up a smile. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed Desire. Pressing your lips onto the other. Kissing Desire deeply.

Desire hummed satisfied under the kiss. Pushing you down to lay on the comfy seat. Cat’s tail trailing your body as the kiss intensified. Forever to be yours. – “I love you too Desire. Always will.” – you replied making Desire burst with excitement. – “How I love those words.” – Desire answered, arms wrapping around you. Cradling against Desire, you were comforted.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[wildsaltair]

Nightmare

Pairing: Maximus Decimus Meridius x reader

Rating: T (hurt/comfort, angst, fluff)

Word Count: 2.3k

Tag List: @enjisbf, @nasatshirts, @empressenchanted

Author’s Note: Up until now I've never posted any Maximus fanfiction because it's always just sort of been something I did for my own enjoyment, but this is one that I don't mind sharing :) @streets-in-paradise inspired me by sharing some Maximus love with me, so this is dedicated to her (and all you other wonderful people who have made Tumblr a place where I can share my passion for this wonderful man)! There's a lot of love poured into this fic, so I hope y'all enjoy it :)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

You are not surprised to learn that Maximus has nightmares. The details of his past are something you can only guess at, though he has alluded to the terrible battles and bloody escapades that haunt his memories. You also know that his refuge in your home is the first peace he has known since he was a child.

But you are not prepared for the sheer forcefulness of his first nightmare. He’s asleep next to you in bed, pale blue moonlight filtering through the window of your room, but you are awakened by his movements in the middle of the night. He’s jerking back and forth, his face twisted in a look of concentration, agony, and terror. You can’t help the fear that rises in your throat at the sight.

He makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat, one hand gripping the sheets tightly enough that his knuckles turn white. Blinking yourself into consciousness, your heart tightens at the sight. Even all these miles and months away from battle, still his past pursues him in dreams.

His next convulsion shakes the bed, and you instinctively reach out to him, hoping to wake him from the nightmare. It proves to be a mistake the second your hand presses onto his shoulder to shake him awake.

His eyes fly open at your touch, but it’s abundantly obvious that he is not awake, still seeing visions of whatever memory he was in a few moments ago. The look in his eyes is one of pure survival instinct, of a desperation that breaks your heart.

A split second later, you’re flat on your back, and the full weight of his body is pinning you down against the bed. You barely have time to register the shock of his swift movement before you realize that you did not wake him up. Blinded by memory, all he can see is his opponent, and the thought drives you to panic and try to wriggle out from under him.

Grinding his teeth, he grips both your wrists in his left hand and restrains them above your head effortlessly, despite your struggling. You call out his name softly, then more loudly, but still he is lost in the nightmare.

You thought you had tasted his strength before, when he’s made love to you and demonstrated how easily he can hold you in whatever position he chooses, but this situation gives you an entirely new perspective of his strength. A second after flipping you over, his right hand is around your throat, his thumb pressing into your jugular with enough force to crush it.

You’ve never been afraid of him once, but in this moment, without a single hint of recognition in his eyes and all his power focused on choking you, you are so terrified you can barely react. You can’t even use your hands to try to push him away.

Knowing that you may only have a few seconds to react, you gasp out his name as loudly as you can, the word immediately drowned out by the pressure on your throat. Your vision is fading to black a moment later, all the feeling in your hands gone from his vise-like grip.

But your strangled cry reaches past the fog of his nightmare somehow. The pressure on your throat releases, and his eyes widen suddenly, letting you know that he’s finally awake and realizing what he has been doing.

You can never forget the look in his eyes at that moment. All the terrifying forcefulness, the single-minded fierceness, the brute strength that made him such a force of nature on the battlefield — it all vanishes in a split second, dissolving into a gaze of such horror and regret that it shatters your heart instantly. You know that from this moment forward, he may never truly trust himself with you again, a thought that devastates you for him.

You can’t move for a moment, still struggling to catch your breath, and the look of horror in his eyes only increases as he pushes himself off you. He seems torn between the need to gather you in his arms and the fear of hurting you as he just did. His lips move, but no sound comes out.

You draw a ragged breath, reaching out one hand toward him desperately. “I’m all right,” is all you can manage. “I’m all right.”

You try to push yourself to a sitting position, but you find that you simply cannot, still so shaken from thinking you were about to be choked to death by the man you love, who you know would rather die than cause you any harm. His hands are trembling wildly when he reaches out to steady you.

“I didn’t know it was you,” he says, his own breathing so erratic that you wonder if he can feel your pain. “I couldn’t see you. I didn’t know it was you.”

He’s repeating himself in absolute shock, his eyes scanning every inch of your face, your neck, your arms to see what damage he’s done to you. His shaking only worsens, but he doesn’t lay a hand on you during his frantic checking over you for injuries, just lets them hover as if he’s afraid to touch you again.

You manage to sit up this time, steadying yourself with a calming breath and trying to give him a relaxed smile. “I know, I know,” you murmur, reaching out to brush your hand over his ruffled hair. He almost recoils at your touch.

“I could have killed you,” he whispers, involuntarily shifting himself to the edge of the bed away from you.

You keep running your hand lightly through his hair, determined to reassure him. “Of course not,” you promise. “You were only dreaming. It was just a dream.”

“It was just a dream,” he echoes, but not in agreement. “A dream of a battle in which I almost died. In which I killed so many men I could never count them.”

You don’t betray a single hint of fear, just scooting forward to close the distance between you. You use both hands now, framing the sides of his face as his eyes search your face desperately.

“I’m perfectly all right,” you assure him with a smile. “See? No harm done at all.”

“You don’t understand,” he insists vehemently, his voice breaking. “I could have killed you. I didn’t know it was you. I only saw my enemy and thought of killing him.”

Seeing how shaken he is, you push forward and clasp your arms around his neck to steady him. He still doesn’t touch you, doesn’t return your embrace. You can feel his whole body quaking in your arms.

“You don’t understand,” he repeats. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I don’t need to know,” you whisper in his ear, stroking his hair rhythmically in the way he always responds to.

He actually pushes you away this time, his hands gentle on your forearms as he puts space between you again. His eyes are blazing, his face as white as your sheets. “You don’t know,” he murmurs again, dropping his hands. “I could snap your neck with one twitch of my wrist. I could break your wrists, your ribs, your spine as easily as I can hold you down.” He holds his hands up in front of you, eyes wide and haunted. “You have no idea what these hands have done.”

“I don’t care what they’ve done,” you argue, seizing his hands with yours before he can pull them away. This time, though, he doesn’t make a move to pull away, freezing in place while he watches you carefully. Slowly, intentionally, you kiss the backs of both his hands, his knuckles, his fingers, to demonstrate your words. “I know you, and I love you, no matter what you’ve done.”

He shakes his head, though his eyes drift closed at the touch of your lips on the base of his palms. “No,” he half-whispers, “no, no.” Your heart tightens seeing him so tortured, knowing that all this anguish lurks beneath his stoic exterior every day, hiding so you can’t see it. “I should never have risked you like this.”

“You’ve never risked me,” you insist. “You’ve never done anything but protect me.”

“Until tonight,” he counters sharply, his eyes flashing open and fixing on yours with his typical intensity magnified. “It only takes one time. I should never have taken the risk.”

You can read the meaning behind his words — that he thinks he can’t trust himself to sleep next to you. The thought of giving him up, especially for this reason, is utterly unacceptable to you.

“I am not afraid of you,” you tell him firmly. Your words seem to affect him, because the tension in his shoulders lessens fractionally. You kiss his hands again and again, then rest your cheek against the roughened skin that you love so much.

“You should be,” he replies softly, the severity in his voice already decreasing. You can see the waves of exhaustion and sorrow washing over him, and you reach out your arms to enfold him again. This time, he accepts your embrace, folding his arms around your waist gently and resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. His skin is burning hot against yours, his arms still trembling.

“I could never be afraid of you,” you whisper. “I could never be afraid of the man who has protected me and cherished me. You have treated me so gently, so tenderly all these months. Never once has it crossed my mind to be frightened of your strength.” You press a kiss to his shoulder, then the side of his neck. “I take pride in having the heart of a man so strong, so capable. I know you would never hurt me.”

He shifts you in his arms, lifting you slightly to align more easily against his body. You can feel the deep, shuddering breath he draws while he thinks about your words. “I would never mean to hurt you,” he replies, “but in a dream, I cannot tell the difference between memory and reality.”

“I believe you would be able to keep yourself from truly hurting me,” you reassure him, threading your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck. He reacts to your touch with a hand sliding up your back to cradle you closer to his chest.

“And if I could not?” he whispers in response, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck. “If I should wake and find you dead by my hand?”

You shake your head, feeling tears spring to your eyes. Any fear you felt in the moment while he was holding you down is completely gone, lost in the tender embrace he holds you in now. “I do not believe the gods would allow such a thing to happen. Not to you. Not to us.”

He releases a shaky breath, one that glides across the exposed skin of your neck. He ducks his head to press a kiss to your collarbone, letting his lips linger there in a way that makes you shiver in his arms. “I am honored by your trust.”

You smile in response, dragging your fingertips lightly down his sides, over the deep scar that slices down his ribs. “I could never trust another man on earth as I do you,” you reply. “My only fear is that I may drown in the love I see in your eyes every day.”

He kisses your collarbone again in response, then moves upward slowly, pressing his lips to the soft hollow of your throat, then the underside of your jaw at your pulse point. Lifting you up effortlessly with his hands hooked under your arms, he repositions you so that you’re straddling him.

He then rests his fingertips, feather-light this time, against the sides of your neck. He strokes his fingers over each mark they left, then presses the softest of kisses against each one. Goosebumps break over your skin at the intimacy of his actions, of the wordless apology in every touch.

He lowers his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he breathes you in. “I do not know what blind fortune allowed me to find you,” he murmurs, touching his lips softly against the corner of your mouth, “but I thank them every moment for the gift of holding you like this.”

At your affectionate smile, he finally gives you the ghost of one in return, though his eyes are still haunted. You suspect that he will retain that haunted look for some time, no matter how many reassurances you offer.

As the intensity of the last while calms, he shifts you in his arms again, cradling you gently and laying you back against the pillows. He leans up on one arm, facing you, and you reach up a hand to stroke the side of his face. His expression softens again, giving you a look of utter fondness and devotion that makes your heart melt.

He leans forward slowly, as if asking your permission, and you gladly grant it. His lips touch yours with a gentle brush, then a bit more pressure. His tongue slides across yours in the way that always sends shivers up your spine, and one of his hands reaches up to stroke your hair, the other resting lightly on your waist. He kisses you once, twice, three times, each one more tender than the last, then lets his lips linger against yours for a moment more.

“I love you,” he says softly that you barely hear it, but rather feel it against your mouth.

“I love you,” you return, “more than I can say.”

One last kiss, and he finally lays down beside you, his face mere inches from yours and his arm folded across your waist. He takes his time in going back to sleep, choosing instead to gaze at your profile in the soft moonlight, but sleep finally takes him. And when you finally close your eyes, content to sleep peacefully beside him again, it’s to the sound of his even breathing and the warmth of his protective embrace.

[cuubism]

some canon-verse trans Hob for the lovely @five-and-dimes who recently got top surgery! 🥳🥰 congratulations, I'm truly so happy for you, my friend. please accept this humble offering

--

“So, it actually started on a dare,” Hob says, on the day he tells Dream the story of him. Or of this part of him, anyway.

Normally, Hob gets a bit guarded the first time he tells someone he’s trans. It’s hard to predict with absolute certainty how people will react, especially ones he’s just become romantically involved with. He’s had it go poorly, to say the least, in the past.

He doesn’t feel that way with Dream. It’s not because there’s so much trust between them—they’re still new, after all. No, it’s something about Dream himself. For all his prickly and standoffish nature, being close to him feels like sinking into a warm lake, into a dark sleep where secrets and hidden wishes float up like glowing reeds to the surface. Deep, personal feelings feel safe with Dream; he cradles them in his hands and soothes them. Or that’s how it feels, when Hob is touching him.

Personification of dreams, indeed.

“A dare?” Dream echoes.

“Sort of," Hob says. "Got frustrated with people saying women should or shouldn’t do this or that or the other thing, so I decided if they felt so strongly about it I’d just be a man. Moved somewhere no one knew me, dressed differently, got stronger, practiced the sword—and that was that. No one seemed to care much, once you were at war. So long as you could swing a sword and not get yourself killed.”

“A choice, then,” Dream says. He’s listening very intently, hands folded on his knees, untouched tea on the coffee table before him.

“At first. Was only after I’d been living that way for a few decades—before and after we met—that I realized while there might be a handful of women out there living as men for the freedom of it, that they didn’t all like it. Given the choice they’d rather just be women in a more equal world. You know?”

Dream hums in understanding.

“But I didn’t want to go back,” Hob continues. “I felt like... who I'd become was the truth of me all along.”

“Identity, while not wholly immutable, is resilient against adversity and circumstance,” says Dream. “You found what your heart wanted you to be, if in a circuitous manner.”

“You seem very unbothered by it,” Hob observes, sipping his tea.

Dream frowns. “Why would I be bothered by it?”

“Dunno.” Apparently he can’t fully shake that this’ll put a wedge in us feeling. “People sometimes are. Feel deceived, or something like that. So they say.”

“If they are deceived, it is by their own assumptions,” Dream says, with disdain. “You should be as you dream yourself, Hob. No more nor less. Put aside these petty physical trappings.”

“I do actually have to live in these ‘physical trappings’ even if you don’t, you silly thing.” He can’t help laughing. “Besides, I rather like being some kind of living creature in the world, rather than what? A ghost? Best I can do is make this body as close to how it should be as possible.”

Hob’s come to like his body, for the most part, in the form that he’s made it. He didn’t always. But he needs a body of some kind to be alive, and he likes being alive. So what he couldn’t change, he made peace with.

Besides, they have hormone treatments nowadays. Brilliant stuff. Makes it so much better.

“Anyway, now you know. I wanted you to. Since we’re together.” It’s still a marvel. Together.

“Thank you,” says Dream, with evident sincerity. “It is a privilege to be gifted your secrets.”

“Not really a secret, but I get what you mean.” He takes Dream’s hand, just to touch him, and admits, “Telling it to you is like… I don’t know. Feels like when I was younger and first admitted out loud, ‘I’m a man. I want to stay like this.’”

It hasn’t been a proper secret in a very long time. But giving it to Dream is like the freedom of releasing a held breath, even so.

“I am the harbor and cradle of dreams,” Dream says in reply. He traces his fingers over Hob’s. Does Dream’s strange form just spring from the ether? Hob wonders. Or does he have to choose it? The way Hob chose his? “Dreams of being and becoming… these are most precious for they grow from tough soil. I can only protect them, I cannot create them. You must do that. And I expect that were I to find you in the Dreaming, there would be a fantastic garden there, indeed.”

Dream himself is the most fantastical thing. “Well, darling, just know your work is appreciated.”

Dream’s lips tip up in a tiny smile. When he meets Hob’s gaze again, his eyes have gone dark and starry. He folds Hob into a hug, and—

oh, it’s like being hugged by the universe itself.

Hob feels the light breeze of a warm dark night, when he’d lain by the dying fire in a war camp in the French countryside, and looked up at a million stars and first whispered to himself what if this is really who I am? Dream is that breeze and those stars. The dying embers that had lit him as he’d run his hands over his body and felt it differently than he ever had before, and been terrified because what would it mean?—but also thrilled and alive. Dream is the night wrapping around him in that moment, the night that was listening to his dreams no matter how quietly he admitted them, Dream is that and more and the voice in his heart telling him it would be okay.

A younger, more uncertain Hob would have needed this. Hob now is older, and he already knows who he is and what he wants, but he falls into Dream’s embrace all the same. A tear slips from his eye, and Dream kisses his cheek, wiping the tear away with his tongue before leaning their heads together.

“I could craft you any body you wanted in the Dreaming,” he says lowly. “However I think the one you have made with your own hands is more remarkable.”

Oh, God, he’s going to tear up again. “Dream, you are the most beautiful, wonderful thing.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the words, and lets Hob hold him close, lets him cradle his head to his chest, a dream kept close to his heart. One that he knew as soon as he saw it walk into the White Horse. Sooner even than he truly knew himself.

Then Dream looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “With these truths revealed, are we able to be intimate?”

Hob laughs so hard he has to tip his head back against the couch. “Wow. One track mind with you, isn’t it? I spill my heart and that’s what I get?”

Dream grumbles, tucking his face in against Hob’s neck to press his lips to Hob’s throat. “I find myself impatient of late.”

“Knew all along you were only with me for my body.” He’s grinning, though. Can’t stop.

“Well. Considering it is such a lovely one.” He plucks at Hob’s shirt buttons. Lecherous little nightmare.

It feels fucking good, though, to be desired.

“C’mere, then,” he says, and drags Dream into his lap.

Dream settles there with a purr, starts playing with Hob’s hair, but says, “I would not truly derail this moment, nor distract from your feelings if you do not wish it.”

“Oh, I wish it. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now. You’re like a prize.” He cradles Dream’s beloved face between his hands. “Stick around for long enough and you’ll get the most incredible Dream at the end of it.”

“Or at the beginning,” Dream says, and Hob’s heart swells so much to hear him voice that that he has to kiss him.

When he does, Dream makes a low, pleased sound, settling deeper in his lap. Yes, this moment, this life, is certainly the prize for all of those years hanging onto those dreams:

the dream of his lover

and the one of himself.

[morpheusbaby3]

Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:

[writing-for-life]

The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels

Part 2: Bully for You—An Unhinged Interlude

Okay, I’ve spent the whole @sandman-rarepair-fest with tragic relationships, poetry and being serious.

And while this relationship is also… tragic, it’s neither poetic nor to be taken seriously, although a small group of us are fully committed to the cause: Behold, the crack ship! Morpheus x The Helm! For the Monsterfucker prompt.

(It’s highly advisable to read part one first, but they can sort of exist independently. Just not as well 🤣)

Bully For You: An Unhinged Interlude (2321 words) by Writing-for-Life Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Desire of the Endless, The Helm (The Sandman) Additional Tags: I Blame Tumblr, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Or Is It?, Muhulhu, Drat! A HelmLord Story, Murphy and his Cool Hat, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Swearing, Masturbation, Anal Something, Because I have no clue what they are doing honestly, helm fucking, Monsterfucking of sorts, It's a Dream of a Thousand Cats Situation, At least a thousand fanfic writers were thinking of the same thing, but he actually enjoyed it, although he would never admit to it, Dream and the Helm finally get it on, About Time, tags what tags they make no sense, don't get your hopes up, this is not really smut, it has all the marks of being explicit, but somehow it's really not Series: Part 2 of The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements Summary:

Where we witness how the Lord of Dreams loses his bearings (no, not those ones), and even Desire needs a stiff drink…

If you always wanted to know what's so special about Dream's relationship with his Helm (capital H on occasion), this might provide some answers. Or raise more questions than you ever dared to ask...

Excerpt:

Desire had felt… things for a short while but shrugged the sensations off. Until they became impossible to ignore. Because he wanted something without their doing (although what comes first, or who, was sometimes hard to tell, but not to get lost in details at this point, dear reader). In lieu of ridiculous desires like “something beyond my function, blah blah”, it would usually be shaped like a woman. Since Desire had given him Killalla (and maybe, just maybe, taken her away again, which still made them chuckle), he had developed a bit of a kink for female-shaped mortals. Well, they hadn’t all been mortal, but the “female-shaped” still stood. And because of the mere fact that their brother was so painfully strait-laced (we suggest the spelling “straight-laced” here, dear reader), it came as a bit of a surprise to feel those decidedly different vibes. Dream wanted something. But it wasn’t a woman, or anything remotely female-shaped. It was…

What the heck was it?

Desire concentrated really hard.

It seemed to be something forged in the fever dream of a blacksmith who took his inspiration from a lobster and a nightmare. Something otherworldly, something with a spine like the tail of a crustacean. Truly, if a lobster decided to pursue a career in gothic architecture and at the same time became some sort of… headgear, it would probably look like this.

Desire first rolled their eyes but then felt their breath catching. “It’s his fucking helm,” they muttered. “Please give me a break. He wants to fuck his helm…”

Brother Dream, master of the subconscious, running his hand tenderly, with a slight shake, over the spine of that ludicrous thing. Desire laughed out loud, but the laugh was short-lived, because things began to unravel. Rapidly…

Read the rest here (otherwise I have to add a content label 🤣)

[harukaspiegel]

"Which Prisoners Call the Sky" by @dreamerinsilico.

I did them for @endlessbigbang.

[windsweptinred]

Metamorphosis

Based in this post

The AU Where Morpheus doesn't retire and become mortal, but marries up and gets a promotion...

Part One

3 months earlier

The bedsheets rustled as Hob stirred, breaking the near perfect silence of the bedroom. In the distance, waves of revelry carried across the breeze from the city centre, and the odd crawl of traffic from the road out back could be heard through the window. London never truly slept..

Hob pawed at the empty bed beside him before furrowing his brows. Peeling an eye open reluctantly and gazing blurrily towards Dream's perch on the window sill. 

"Dream?" He called questioningly, before rubbing at his eyes. Lifting his head and fumbling for his phone resting on the bedside table. "What time is it? 2.05!" Dropping back with an overly dramatic grunt, he covers his eyes with the heels of his hands and let out an exaggerated groan. "Umph. I have to be up in four hours!"

Smiling softly at his lover's behaviour, Dream turned to rest his forehead against the cool pane of glass, momentarily flinching at the remembrance of the cold sting against his skin. Before gazing upwards in contemplation. 

" Night seems muted somehow." 

Hob pulled a pillow out from beneath his head, resolutely bringing it down over it again with a huff. 

"That's air pollution for you poppet." 

Dream looked up at the moon, a hazy blur of light, lording over an inky sky of equally sickly looking stars. Blinking feebly in competition with the bright lights of the city below. Placing a hand flat against the smooth surface, he took a deep inhale, tentatively reaching out towards his mother, feeling a lazy waft of irritation in return. 

"Perhaps" 

Hob peered one eye out from beneath his goose feather fortress, before pulling himself free with a sigh. "Dream, come back to bed. Your simple human needs a few more hours if he's going to face 30 odd freshmens tomorrow."

Pulling his bare legs out from beneath him, Dream dropped gently to the floor. Hob's old shirt hanging in gently folds about his thighs, one sleeve draped precariously off his shoulder. Tip towing silently across the floor and slinking back into the bed, Hob granted him a tired yet loving, lopsided grin. Already fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

"Look at you, shining like a star." 

Dream smiled indulgently as Hob let out a loud yawn. Tucking himself snuggly against the side of his body. Basking in the heat of his duvet cocooned skin. With his head neatly resting in the curve of Hob's neck, he let out a small chuckle. "I do no such thing Hob Gadling." 

He felt Hob's fingers run a gentle figure of eight into his shoulder blade. 

"Then why's your skin twinkling like a bag of diamonds?" He mumbled, voice thick with sleep. 

Dream rolled his eyes, burying his nose into Hob's jawline. "You are a hopeless romantic when you are halfway to my realm my darling. Now…" He ran a hand featherlight over Hob's face. "Sleep." 

With a snuff, Hob eyes closed and dropped almost instantly into a peaceful slumber. Glancing idly about the room, Dream's eyes caught the glaring numbers of the stereo display. 12.15 am. Hob's sleep-addled brain must have misread the time. 

"I too wish for more time, beloved."

……. 

2 months earlier 

Hob exited the door of the shared English and History department, taking in a lungful of fresh, early evening air. He swore they'd painted the windows shut back in the 90s. The last time the university had seen fit to refurbish the building. His demeanour quickly lit up when he noticed the slim, dark figure of Dream resting against the bonnet of his car. Head tilted back, seemingly observing the deep reds of the sunset. Walking to meet him with a renewed  jig in his step, Hob greeted him with a peck to the cheek and twinning his arms about the Dream's slim waist, propping his head upon his leather clad shoulder. Feeling the residual warmth left by the setting sun on the fabric. 

Dream turned to observe him, eyes flitting about, cataloguing the toll the day had taken on him before smiling a small, sweet smile. "You glow today my love."

Hob barked a laugh, re shouldering his work bag and running a hand through his tousled hair. "That's a nice way of saying I still look hideously hungover duck. I appreciate it."

Dream pulled away, angling his lithe body to fully face Hob. 

"I do not jest. You shine with life. If I did not already know such a thing to be impossible, I would say you looked younger." He reached up, sweeping aside an  errant strand of auburn hair from Hob's eyes. "Vitalised."

Hob let out a snort, placing a quick peck upon Dream's brow, licking at the sweet remnants of 'dream' stuff it left upon his lips. "If you say so, love. Yesterday I swear I looked and felt every one of my 600 odd years. My hair was practically grey I tell you."

The starlight pinpricks hidden within Dream's pupils flared in what Hob had come to learn was amusement. For a brief moment, he swore he saw the first stars of the evening, scattered haphazardly amongst the intertwined reds and blues of sunset, flare back. 

" You are as vibrant as the day we met." 

Hob smirked at that, crowding Dream backwards until he half sat on the car bonnet. Leaning forward until they were but a hair's breadth apart. He whispered cock surely, "That's what you thought of me was it? Covered in shit and smelling twice as fragrant? Vibrant?" 

A challenging spark lit in Dream's eyes as he quirked his lip, before pouncing forward, arms wrapped tight about Hob's neck, claiming his lips in a searing kiss. 

A raucous chorus of wolf whistles sounded somewhere behind them, followed by a riotous roar of hoots and cackles. A group of students who'd obviously begun the night early. Hob pulled away, rolling his eyes, before giving his ear an embarrassed tug out of habit. 

He watched Dream take in the group with a fond expression. Wondering passingly what he knew of them. Their lives, their hopes, their dreams. When Dream turned his attention back to him, Hob's breath hitched in wonder. His eyes, usually pools of blue or as pitch black as the midnight sky, were now a wash with soft, mingling hues of reds, purples and blues. As if someone had captured the dusk sky around them and painted it onto Dream's eyes. He took a moment silently, to once again thank whatever entity watched over him, for deeming him worthy of this ethereal, beautiful creature in his arms 

"What were you looking at anyway?" 

Dream looked to the sky, and once again, the stars seemed to blink brightly in response. As if clamouring for his attention. 

"The stars are singing. Can you hear them?" 

Hob smiled adoringly, kissing Dream one last time before detangling himself from their embrace, working his way round the car and sweeping the passenger door open with a flourish. 

"If you say so sweetheart. Come on, let's head home."

….. 

One month earlier 

Hob pawed at the meat of Dream's thigh, hefting it higher as his thrusts increased their tempo. About his shoulder, he felt Dream's other knee tighten in a vice grip. His toes, resting near the centre of Hob's back, clenched with every snap of Hob's hips. Mouthing desperately at the beautiful pale breast below him, he felt the familiar sensation of his coming climax alight like a sparkler. 

"Oh god, I'm close, I'm…" And suddenly, he was adrift. Gone was Dream and in his place he was being held aloft in the vast, endless skies of night. He felt the cold embrace encompass his body, gently, lovingly. About him, stars and comets danced and flared in a frenzied, joyus display. From within him, he felt a heat, a great light pulse and grow. A  power, an essence unfurling within him like a flower, opening to embrace the first rays of dawn. He was a  great wave crashing against a slowly eroding cliff face, he was sun and shadow, weaving its way about an ancient sundial. He was the very turn of the seasons, rotating like a great wheel, over and over. 

And then, there was the night again, about him. Stroking, clawing, adoring, challenging. He battled back, he loved back. He felt the pull and push, light and dark, heat and cold… expanding and condensing. Building, building, building… Then… Bang. 

Hob, melted rather than pulled off Dream. Flopping down beside him on the bed. 

His body, a mass of quivering gelatin, he was sure couldn't hold him if he tried. He took lungfuls of the stale, bedroom air, thick with the heady aroma of sex and desperately tried to catch his breath. Next to him, Dream seemed to fare no better. Sprawled out comatose, hands clutching at his head and heart. A glazed, almost vacant expression on his face. 

Somewhat, regaining the use of his vocal cords, Hob turned his head towards Dream, croaking, "Holy Fuck what was that?!" 

Dream gazed at the ceiling for a few moments longer before languidly rolling onto his side to face Hob. His eyes spoke of bone deep exhaustion but also utter contentment. 

"I do not know. That has never happened before."

Somewhere deep in Hob's subconscious, his ego stuck its chin out, gave a pompous, self congratulatory cockcrow and proceeded to strut elatedly. As it was, he sent Dream a slightly pleased, knackered looking smile. 

"Shit, seriously?" 

Dream nodded his head slightly in confirmation.

Hob paused for a moment before sending Dream a devilish look, "Was it just me, or did Big Ben go off just as we came?"

Dream eyes crinkled as a huffed chuckle escaped him. Hob guffawed in response. And thus they greeted the morning, snickering to each other like naughty children. 

…… 

The present day

The rain pelted incessantly from above, Dream's hair lay in sodden clumps, water draining from them streaking down his face, his shirt was soaked through. Yet he felt nothing. He clutched desperately to the cliff edge he sat upon, pressing the jagged rock into his palms, making it bite in the flesh. He willed it to pierce, to cut, to hurt, to make him bleed. Below, his realm was torn asunder. He wondered what it would be like to push himself forward, fall freely into the destruction below. Escape wantonly into oblivion. Would it be kinder, less painful then what was to come?

"Take my hand little brother."

He stared at Death's palm outstretched, he could not look her in the eyes. It would just be another unsaid farewell, another desperate want to stay, another moment fighting the urge to lay himself prostrate at her feet and beg for more time. 

He took a deep shuddering breath, attempting to calm his nerves. His arm felt like a deadweight as he lifted it. At once conflicting emotions of panic and relief rose from within him, overwhelming the numbness. His senses dulled and head roared simultaneously and he rocked forward toward his sister in a blind, nauseous haze. Soon it would be over… I'm sorry, I don't want to, I'm so tired, please don't make me go, I'm sorry, I can rest, I'm sorry…I love you… 

"Stop!" 

Hob

He felt himself being hauled into the confines of two strong arms, that locked about him like an iron cage, resolute in keeping their captive from all. In that moment, as his mind frantically scrambled to process everything, aeons of repressed pain broke from the tight binding he had placed about it. And cradled in Hob's embrace, mere seconds from his death, his reserve finally crumbled and he unabashedly wept.

In his misery, he felt the unexpected sting of sharp metal pierce his chest and wondered if this was what it was to die. Yet further it plunged deeper and deeper still, until it hooked his heart and pulled. And he knew then what this was. For the first time in countless centuries, Dream allowed his mind to be reeled in without resistance. As grey mists filled his lungs and phantom hands clutched at him, pressing him maternally to a soft stomach. There he lay in the clutch of Despair, as she petted his hair and cooed softly to him. As her rats scurried about him, gently nuzzling his body. Slowly, he became aware of a thud reverberating around them. Quiet at first, but growing steadily louder. A drumming, strong and proud that sent the rats scattering…. A heartbeat he realised. Was it Hob's heart pounding frantically under his ear, no… No he was not with Hob, he was being held from behind, two arms wrapped about his chest, beautifully manicured hands placed on his breast framing his heart. The smell of peaches smothered him and as his senses roared to life. 

'Fight it big brother, do you hear me? Fight it! Desire happiness, desire to be loved as you love. But most of all desire life. Let yourself desire big brother. Please, please!..' "Please, please don't!"

"Hob, you should not be here." 

Hob. 

He snapped back to the moment, feeling the painful, vice-like grip of Hob's hand in his hair, fiercely holding his head to his chest. Above them, he felt the rain still pelt down, below, the rock scrapped at his knees through his sodden jeans. Feebly, Dream reached out, grasping a handful of Hob's drenched shirt, clenching it in his hand like a tether. 

"Please Death, don't take him, I beg you! I love him." Hob pulled Dream's body even closer to his. Rocking them both in a soothing motion, Dream was not sure if it was for his benefit, or Hobs. "I love him."

As his vision cleared, the form of his sister slowly became apparent, kneeling at their side. A respectful distance away so as to not cause Hob further distress. From the protective barrier of Hob's arms, he met her eyes, awash with unshed tears. Dream wished desperately to reach out and comfort her, but for the first time in their shared existence, feared her touch. Instead he clung tighter to Hob's shirt, feeling the hitch of Hob's body as he hopelessly failed to hold back sobs. 

How was it he could bring such pain to those he loved when he wished them none?

"Hob please, it is not so simple..." 

Dream opened his mouth, tongue laden as he tried to speak, he worked his throat fruitlessly for a few moments as his voice sought to restore itself, before he let out a weak, "I don't… I don't.. "

Hob's startled, pushing Dream from his chest and reaching to carefully cradle his face with two trembling hands. "Dream, love? Dream?" 

"I do not wish to leave you."

[nualaofthefaerie]

Wow...would you look at that? Not only did she not abandon her fic for her now CANCELED show (when I get my hands on you, Netflix) BUT she's also providing you 17.1k words to soothe the pain. ✨️ Enjoy guys.

"The case of the missing cat" 🐱🔍

Chapter 6: Hadestown

Rating: Mature (no sexual acts)

[awwsd]

Would they wear a dress? Endless siblings edition

(TLDR, yes. All of them.)

Destiny

Will wear a dress but ONLY if it has a hood. I think he casually sports one of these bad boys

Death

Surprisingly most resistant to dress-wearing. She will but not if there’s another option. She enjoys being able to move her legs independently of each other, and has moral objections to fancy clothes.

Dream

He basically wears dresses all the time, but a prerequisite is that the dress must be so ridiculously over the top that it distorts the laws of physics. And also it has to be black.

Desire

Yes.

Despair

She’s just as likely to wear a dress as she is to wear anything else, which is to say of course, not likely.

Destruction

Would absolutely, as he is comfortable in his masculinity given that he is not a human nor a man.

Delirium

She would try, but the dress would turn into a pantsuit then overalls then a swarm of bees then an incomprehensible eldritch horror that makes your eyes bleed. For what it’s worth, she did her best.

[not-d3ad-y3t]

Stay near and you'll have nothing to fear

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💋------------------------------------------------------💋

Fandom: The Sandman/DC

Paring: Desire of the endless/Reader

Rating: G

Words: 472

Summary: You could hear a deep sigh coming from them before they swiftly sat beside you, wrapping their arms around your body in a comforting embrace. Their bare chest pressed against you.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

💋------------------------------------------------------💋

Crying. That's what they heard.

Crying? In their domain? That simply wouldn't do.

They easily spotted you, curled up on the floor, knees to your chest, tears freely streaming down your face. Their eyes softened as they felt a certain sadness bubbling up inside of them. They've never seen you cry before.

��Darling?” they moved closer, their voice sultry and their heels clacking on the ground, it was an oddly comforting sound when it came to desire. You didn't want to look at them, feeling utterly pathetic as you couldn't stop the tears falling down your cheek. It felt like their gaze was boring into you.

You could hear a deep sigh coming from them before they swiftly sat beside you, wrapping their arms around your body in a comforting embrace. Their bare chest pressed against you.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

You struggled to get the words out.

“Dream, he- i-” you stuttered, it was too difficult to speak as you hiccuped, sobbing into your pants.

“Ah, my dear brother,” their voice was filled with a certain disdain, lightly trailing their finger up and down your arm, trying their best to bring you comfort. ”What did he do this time?”

Morpheus was often very self-centered. Not that they were saying they weren't. They're the embodiment of desire. Cut them some slack, they were made to be self-centered. But at least they admit it.

“Am I a nuisance?” you finally croaked out. You felt weak. Letting Morpheus get to you. Letting yourself get upset over such a simple insult.

A small look of irritation towards their brother crossed their face. How could he talk to their human like that? He had no right.

“Is that what he thinks you are?” They ran a hand through your hair, feeling you nod slowly. You continued to let out choked sobs, burying your face in their chest, tears hitting their skin.

It was rare for them to feel such anger towards their older brother. But when I came to you, they were furious. But they kept calm, gently rocking you.

In all their years of living, their heart has never broken seeing a mortal cry. However you were different, you were their mortal. They cared about you and you only.

They kissed your temple, leaving a red lipstick mark, rubbing circles on your back.” You, my love, are anything but a nuisance…” they trailed off, their chin resting on top of your head, before giving in and burying their face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

You brought your arms up and wrapped them around them. They cracked a real, genuine smile. They had always loved your affectionate nature. And for a few moments, they felt human. Being treated with such care, such love. It was enough to make their heart flutter.

They loved you. Truly.

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Ao3 is @Not_D3ad_Y3t

[lis-likes-fics]

Red Thoughts

Pairings: Desire x Reader Word Count: 3.3k words Kink: Sensory Deprivation/Voice Kink Warnings: NSFW, sensory deprivation, voice kink, praise kink, edging, overstim, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v, bondage, mention of orgies, use of safe words, swearing... A/N: I am so in love with Mason Alexander Park. Someone needs to take my phone away...

"Stop squirming."

You sighed as you obeyed the command. It was just hard to stay still for long when your partner had you standing in your bedroom with your chained wrists attached to a hook on the ceiling and your feet chained to the floor to keep your legs spread open wide.

It had been part of a bet. You started a wager that they couldn't fuck more people than you at a rager. You ended the night with your strong sixteen (and a few extra people wanting to take you home). And when you found Desire, they'd managed to start an orgy of twenty-five. When you asked how many they'd actually fucked, they told you they just finished off the last one. "Some of the people in there are not coming out the same way they went in…"

So, yeah, you lost the bed after failing to mention that orgies were not part of the deal. You would remember it for next time.

But there you were, spread out and waiting for your long night with your beloved.

"Am I going to be here all night? My legs are going to get tired," you complained, leaning your head against your shoulder and raising a brow as Desire prepared.

"Hush," they replied, amused. "Red, black, or white? I'm thinking red tonight."

You shrugged as best you could. "Let's go with red then."

Back still turned to you, they pointed in your direction in agreement and snapped their fingers. You felt your clothes fall away from your body in a dull ash, replaced by a new set of lacey red lingerie to add to your collection.

"Before we begin," they spoke, "tell me your words."

You played with the chains above your head, humming lightly. "Dawn to keep going. Dusk to slow down. Midnight to stop."

"Very good."

They plucked something off the vanity and turned toward you, letting their eyes skim your body with an appreciative gaze. They hummed, "Look at you."

Kissing at them, they breathed a laugh and walked toward you. "Hold still," they ordered, rounding behind you and with cloth in their hands. In the next moment, you were blinded as they wrapped it around your head and tied it securely in the back. Shit.

"Well, you didn't tell me we were doing this," you muttered.

They're voice was close to your ear when they spoke, reverberating in your mind and echoing in your chest. "Hush."

"I'm only saying, a bit of warning woul–"

You were cut off when another piece of cloth was stuffed between your lips, joining the other to wrap around your head and silence you.

You flinched when you felt their fingers graze your sides, starting at your ribs and trailing down to your hips. "Hush," they rasps. "If another sound falls from those sweet lips of yours… it had better be because I made it." You shudder. "Do you understand me, sweetling?"

You nodded. A pleased hum sounds from their throat, their breaths fanning on your shoulder. "Good girl." You could hear the smile in their voice as they dipped down and pressed their lips gingerly to your neck.

They broke away from you in complete silence, and you turned your head around in search of a sound or any light to find them with. You didn't attempt to speak, knowing better than to disobey so close to the beginning.

Your hips jerked when you felt their hot tongue against your cunt, breath hitching as they held the thin cloth of your panties aside to taste you. Another shudder shook through you when the skin once covered by thin lace disappeared, Desire not bothering to deal with them altogether as they left everything else intact.

They laved their tongue along your folds, dipping between them and licking hungrily into you. They suckled around your clit, pulling the pleasure from your body to make you moan and succeeding. A sigh left your mouth, huffing out into a mild whimper as you tensed.

Their hands found your waist again, sliding down to hold your hips and pull them toward their mouth like you could a bowl of soup. Their silver tongue worked you like an instrument, as master of their craft pursuing their perfect symphony.

Their tongue flicked at your clit, building you up with appreciative hums. You whined when they pulled away, only to choke on a moan when you felt their long, slender fingers fill your pussy. They curled and coaxed, their thumb tapping your clit to tease you.

"Do you feel that?"

You jumped when their voice echoed in your ear, deep and raspy, like the billowing of sheets. "Do you love it?"

You nodded, huffing a breath as you tried to respond with a moan. "Listen to yourself," they chuckled, curling their fingers in a way that brings your hips forward. Their free hand grabs your waist and pulls you close without disrupting your bindings. "Such precious sounds…"

You ground your hips into their hand, searching out your pleasure. They move quickly and quietly, never letting you know their next move as you feel their tongue dip inside you again.

"Mmm, you're so wet for me, darling. You taste absolutely delectable."

You whispered their name, a muffled, muddled sound. ruined by the gag in your mouth. Your hips jerked as their teeth sunk into your inner thigh, bite marks sure to be left behind as they licked their tongue over the spot and kissed it tenderly. They continue to curl their fingers inside of you, sucking on your clit as they graze their fingers along your thigh with the likeness of a feather.

You could feel the ecstasy rising within you, teasing your nerve endings like pop rocks. They could tell you were close, they could always tell. By the way your moans became insistent whimpers, the way you fluttered around their fingers, the way you tried to get your affection passed your lips.

You managed to get the gag out of your mouth, the damp cloth falling around your neck as you took in a breath. "Mmm—Dee!"

Just as the coil threatened to snap, they pulled away with a disappointed tut, stopping everything with what you assumed was a disapproving glance. You mewled at the lack of stimulation, feeling that desperate need in the pit of your belly fade out into dissatisfaction. They took hold of your chin in your hand, tilting your head up and leaning so close you can feel their breath on your skin. "Come now, my dear… You know better than that."

You felt the cloth shift around your neck and whined. "Need you," you tried, leaning forward to taste their lips against yours. You never made contact.

"I know," they said, as though this was common knowledge (which it was). "But only good girls who listen to their beloveds get what they want. Isn't that right?"

With a sigh, you nodded.

"Good. Now, be my good girl…and whimper for me." You could feel their lips just hardly brush yours. You did as you were told, allowing a tiny whimper to slip from your lips and flood their ears with your delight. With a humming sigh, they seemed pleased. "Good. Word?"

"Dawn."

"Very good." They fixed the gag back inside your mouth, wrapping it more securely this time to ensure it didn't fall out again.

Their fingers found your cunt again, dipping inside and spreading you wide for them. You sucked in a breath, moaning deeply at the feeling. "Oh, just listen to that moan," Desire rasped. "You have no idea how wonderful you sound."

They wrapped an arm around your body, pulling you close as they worked you. Their lips found your neck, and down to your collarbone, grazing the valley of your breasts before stopping to kiss over the thin lace covering each of your peaked nipples. Continuing their way down, they continue to kiss any exposed skin you had to offer before they wound up on their knees again to kiss your throbbing clit. It wasn't hard to work you up again, curling their fingers and suckling on your clit and humming into your pussy as they brought you closer and closer to that release once more.

But as you moaned and tugged lightly on the restraints keeping you from being able to touch your love, they pulled away again with a hum. You mewled, fighting the growing need to cry as a tiny tearless sob erupted from your chest. Your pleas were muffled behind the gag once more as you felt the blissful height wane again.

"Oh, I'm sorry," they purred unsympathetically. "Were you wanting to cum that time?"

Your reply was almost a groan as you pulled lightly at the chains keeping your arms above your head.

"Of course, you were. You're practically begging me for it, aren't you, my sweet?" they wondered aloud, teasing you as their fingers brushed your chin again. "Let me fix that for you."

Their fingers snaked inside of you again massaging the spot within you that made you gasp as you bucked your hips against their hand. They pulled away from you once more, and you felt those same fingers pressing against your lips after lowering your gag. You opened your mouth obediently, closing it around their fingers and sucking your arousal from them.

"Mm, my good girl," they moaned. "Do you know what you taste like, darling?" You had not the chance to answer with their fingers still in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and insisting you keep licking them clean. "Like fucking candy," they whispered, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned. Their voice was raspy and deep, like velvet on your skin as they seduced you, a snake charmer to a viper.

Their hands caressed your sides and stuffed the gag back in your mouth, and your hips jerked when you felt their tongue once more. They hummed and moaned into you. Fingers in your cunt once more, they worked you toward another high.

And they did that over and over and over again, building you up until you were crying for a release before pulling away to taunt you once again. It became this dance, jerking hips and curling fingers and flicking tongue against your clit. All you could do was stand there and take it, succumbing to the pleasure and to the torment "like a good little slut".

Tears were beginning to wet your blindfold. You were a whimpering mess and Desire fed off the pleasure line a succubus. They curled their fingers as they stood again. "Oh, look at you, my sweet pet."

Their free hand brushed gentle knuckles along your jaw. "You're so good. Trembling in my hands like a rattle. I love to watch you squirm."

You sputtered around the gag, your breath erratic and your legs shaky. "Mm, what is it, my dear? What do you need to tell me?"

Like honey, their words dripped on your skin. And, like a bee, you answered the allure as they removed the gag in its entirety.

You were shaking like a leaf as you tried to speak, the words chattering and stuttering out of you. "Please, needa cum… Fuck, y'feel so good. Need you."

"Like music to my ears," they purred. Your pussy fluttered again and they pulled their fingers out of you. A choked sob slipped from your throat.

"Please, I'll be good! Be your good girl. Whatever you want. Just please let me cum."

"Whatever I want?" they wondered, stroking a finger down your cheek.

"Yes. Please," you begged.

"Alright," they hummed. "This is what I want you to do."

"Anything," you moaned.

Their lips brushed your ear, taking the lobe between their teeth and biting gently before letting it go and whispering into your ear. You shuddered, longing to hold them.

"I want you to confess," they hissed. "I want you to confess that I am the ruler of lust and desire, and you are but a creature of it."

You nodded quickly. "You're right," you gasped. "Fuck, you're right." You watched blindly, wanting to see them as you spilled. "I am your servant. You're my ruler. Fuck, I'm yours, baby. All yours. Just, please."

They hummed, a sound that rolled deep in their throat as they relished in your submission. "My good girl," they chuckled. The sound echoed in your ears and you melted, going limp in spite of the chains. Desire had to wrap their arm around your body, pressing theirs to yours to hold you back up. "That's all that I wanted, my sweetling," they whispered on an influx. "Now…let me give you what you so crave."

"Please," you muttered.

"Shhh." Their fingers found you once more, and their tongue swiftly followed. You moaned and cried, bucking your hips into them as one of their hands came to hold you still. They pleasured you like someone who had been starved. They devoured you, and you gladly let them as you folded into their touch.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried. "Yes, Dee. Fuck, s'amazing." You were so close, you could feel it nipping at your heels as you listened to them.

They suckled a little harder as they pulled you closer. The heat in your belly snapped. You clenched around their fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as you came. You cried out from the pleasure, gasping as it crashed down on you hard.

You ground your hips into their hand as you chanted a symphony of "yes" and "please".

Desire purred, still coaxing you with their fingers as they brought you down. When they pulled out of you, you whimpered.

"Would you like me to fuck you now, pet?" they groaned in your ear.

You nodded quickly, "Please."

"My good girl," they praised, taking your chin in their hand and pulling you in to kiss you. You moaned into their mouth, seeking out their touch and embracing it. Their soft lips melded with yours like you were crafted for them and them only.

"You've behaved so well. Who am I to deny you?"

You groaned as your hands were lowered from their restraints, still chained but no longer stretched so far over your head. They eased you down, slowly, slowly, slowly. You felt the leg restraints disappear as they turned you blindly. Just as you went to stretch them, they were bound to the floor once more.

They bent you over the bed, thrusting their fingers into your slick cunt. They bent over your body, their lips next to your ear once more. "Are you ready for me, darling?"

"Yes," you begged.

"What is your word?"

"Dawn."

They gripped a handful of your ass, squeezing it and letting their nails dig into the flesh before letting it go. "Very good," they hummed. "Now be a good girl and moan for me."

You did just that as you felt the long, hard length of their cock push between your folds. They worked themself into you, burying their cock deep within your cunt with a deep sigh as they bottomed out. "You squeeze me so tight, my dear."

With your world still engulfed in darkness, you gripped the end of the bed and held on. "Please, fuck me," you sighed.

"Don't you worry. I'm going to fuck you nice and hard."

And they kept their promise, taking your hips and fucking into you like it was the last time they'd ever feel you. It was fast and rough and hard, the head of their cock thumping against the deepest part of you and making you see stars.

You gasped and moaned, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together. Their fingers brushed down your spine. "You can get louder for me, can't you, my darling?"

You did. You let yourself loose as the sounds fell from your lips like a waterfall. "Please, don't stop!" you begged. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Much better," they moaned, fucking you a little faster. "Oh, you sound so lovely begging for me to fuck you."

"Dee," you whimpered.

"Listen to my voice," they purred in your ear, holding your hips as they ground into you. "Give yourself to me. Let me give you what you crave. Let go."

You relaxed, obeying their every command and letting the pleasure consume you, swallow you whole. Their fingers found your aching clit and began to rub once more, stroking their magic into you and filling you with bliss.

You choked on a moan, already feeling yourself reaching your high before it crashed down on you and drowned you in ecstasy. They didn't stop fucking you as you came, they didn't stop rubbing your clit. They just kept filling you, building you, devouring you.

"So good for me. Look at how much you came," they sang. "Your thighs are shaking so much. You must love when I fuck you like this, don't you?"

Their voice was full of pleasure. It was dripping from their tone and doused in praise and love. After a rough thrust, their hand curled around your throat gently and they nibbled on your earlobe. "Word?"

"Dawn!" you cried. "Definitely dawn."

"You're so perfect for me."

"Dee," you huffed, wanting to touch them but being unable to reach, wanting to see them but being unable to look. "Fuck, you're gonna…m-make me cum again."

"Yeah?" he chuckled. "My sweet girl, I'm going to fuck you so full of my cum, you'll be begging me to keep it that way."

Your whole body shuddered at their words, and they grunted when they felt how you tightened around them again. They nearly whimpered as you sucked them in. "I'm so close, my darling."

Their thrusts became erratic, their steady rhythm faltering and becoming desperate. They fucked into you and felt their control slipping. "Are you ready for me?"

You nodded, "Yes, please. Please cum in me."

They flicked their wrist, and your dark vision went white as you came again, choking on a pleasured sob. They buried themself deep inside of you, filling you to the hilt as they gripped your waist and let their hand curl around your throat.

They moaned in your ear, deep and rough sounds that rumbled in your chest and made you warm inside. You lost your breath as you felt them spilling inside of you.

"Oh, my love." They breathed, holding you close. "The pleasure you bring. You've no idea how much I love you."

They held you close through the highest of your highs, listening to your weak whimpers and heavy breaths as they eased you down like a gentle creature to soft sheets. They pulled out of you and smiled at your whine, scooping you up into their arms and turning you around once the flick of their wrist was rid of your bindings.

They kissed your forehead before slowly lifting the blindfold. You were nearly blinded once more as the light began to flood your vision again. You smiled upon seeing Desire; their love-swollen lips, their shining golden eyes, their skin glowing with lust.

You raised a hand to wrap around the back of their neck and pulled them down to your lips, kissing them some more with a fervent passion. "I love you," you spoke against their lips, kissing them some more. "I love you."

Their hands smoothed along your skin, any skin they could find. They smiled, big and wide and proud. "I love you," they whispered, kissing the tip of your nose and brushing their knuckles along your cheekbone.

They stared at you, a long moment passing with gentle breaths and the aftershocks of a high as your legs still trembled. You could feel their cum beginning to seep out of you and onto the silk sheets. You took a deep breath. "Remind me not to challenge you again…"

They laughed, a loud one full of so much joy. "I don't know," they said mid-chuckle. "I wouldn't mind a repeat of tonight."

Your legs were weak at the thought.

"Oh, boy," you sighed.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 Tag yourself here...

[theravenmuse]

If I were to write one of these sometime soon, which would you want to see first? (I do hope to eventually write both of them.)

Crowley/Cat King: Rough but sensual. Cat king has a heated bed and Crowley spends the night.

Crowley/Cat King/Desire: It starts out just a bit overwhelming for poor Crowley being the center of attention, then things get catty when Desire and the Cat King start fighting over him. Crowley slips away while they’re distracted and the two end up hate fucking while Crowley goes to get a drink.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Jan 21 - 27, 2024

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA | 🔹Submitted by creator

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Aerin Valleros Fanart 🎨by @storyofmychoices

Aerin Valleros x MC Fanfic ✒️🔹by @skepticalfrogcat

Blades of Light & Shadow Fanart 🎨🔹| Multiple Characters by @phaaz

Promises ✒️🔹- @petalouda85

Things Left Unsaid ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🔹| Mal Volari x F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

Tyril Starfury x MC 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @gaiuskamilah

CRIMES OF PASSION

Gabriel Rose 🎨🏳️‍🌈🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Home Without ✒️| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

laplace's angel ✒️🔹| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

A Tipsy Winter's Tale ✒️🔹| Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @jerzwriter

THE CURSED HEART

Longclaw x Radiance Fanart 🎨🔹by @artbyalz

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Hallway Argument ✒️| Beckett Harrington, MC - @choicesmc

ENDLESS SUMMER

Grandchildren: Leonel 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Estela Montoya x MC - @marmolady

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Snow in Crimson, Starlight in Gold (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🏳️‍🌈| m!cas x m!gabe x m!mc - @aria-ashryver Chapter 38: Heaven is Not Fit to House a Love Like You and I

IT LIVES SERIES

ILITW Fanart 🎨 by @alleykatart

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Prelude: Martin's Rise ✒️🔹| Martin Vanderweil x MC - @aces-and-angels

Serving Cunt and Justice 🎨🏳️‍🌈| Multiple Characters by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

NIGHTBOUND

Loyal to be Royal ✒️🔹| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Full Open Heart Masterlist Week of Jan 21-27

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Best Kept Secrets (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| Liam Rys x F!MC - @ao719 Chapter 18: Maybe We'll Get it Right

Daylight ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| TRR MC x ? - @angelasscribbles

Forevermore (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔹| King Marquise (Liam) x MC - @khoicesbyk Chapter 4a: The Princess Diary, Part 1 Chapter 4b: The Princess Diary, Part 2

VEIL OF SECRETS

Jeff Duffy Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Veil of Secrets Fanart 🎨🔹Multiple Characters by @lilyoffandoms

WAKE THE DEAD

Angel Savage Fanart 🎨🔹by @gaiuskamilah

Angel Savage Fanart 2 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

Eli Sipes Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

The Siren (Zombie) 🎨by @lilyoffandoms

Starlit Night ✒️🔹| Troy Hassan x F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

Troy Hassan Fanart 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms

WTD MC 🎨🔹by @lilyoffandoms for @dutifullynuttywitch

CROSSOVERS / MULTIPLE STORIES

Blades of Light & Shadow/Nightbound

Happy Birthday @ladylamrian! 🎨| Nik Ryder, Aerin Valleros, Mal Volari - by @artbyalz

Crimes of Passion, Nightbound, Open Heart, The Royal Romance

Choices MCs 🎨 by @mariemarieohcontrary

[10moonymhrivertam]

A lil Dreamling bodyswap thing I’m directly copy-pasting from my phone notes, hopefully I get back to it someday

Apparently I was taking inspo from a Witcher post I’ve lost XD I’m gonna go look for it

@avelera if you’re interested 💜

~~~

“Sounds like you’re living the dream.” Their lips curl into a conspiratorial smile over their glass. “Still. All bounds of ‘reasonableness’ aside. If you could have anything you wanted. What would it be?”

“Careful. Dressed like sin, shelling out for the good whiskey…a man might think you’re trying to trap him with a question like that.”

“Who, little old me?” They batted their eyes. Hob wondered if perhaps they knew Morse code for ‘I am absolutely trapping you’. “I’m just having a bit of fun. Come on, what could it hurt?”

Hob frowned at them. “Are you one of the Fair Folk?” He blurted.

They snorted, and their coy smile twisted downward into something just short of a sneer. “The faeries dipped out half a millennium ago.” Hob felt a little dizzy, his brain buffering through the realization that it was within his lifetime. As the matter-of-fact tone penetrated past the haze, he found himself rewarding the frankness with honesty.

“I’d like to know what’s going on in my best friend’s head once in a while.” STHe hesitated, but…in for a penny. “[Dissonance of glad to be back but definitely traumatized?]”ST

“A ‘walk a mile in their shoes’ sort of thing?”

Hob snorted. “Not sure I have enough style in me for his shoes.”

“You never know.” They shrugged sinuously. They set down their glass and stretched, full-bodied. It was the dangerously toothy yawn that really made it cat-like. “I really must be off.” They stood, pausing beside his seat. “Good to meet you, darling.” They pressed a kiss to his temple. A sudden shiver ripped down his spine.

“Good to meet you, too,” he said absently

*

For five centuries, Hob always remembered when he dreamed, even if their details slipped away like water come morning. In his sixth century, it was more questionable. He suspected he still dreamed, but he never woke up with anything on his mind, unless it was old memories returned to haunt him. He was just getting used to having the full experience back, which is what made the blankness he was waking up from so strange. He was so preoccupied with it, staring into the middle distance, that it took him at least three minutes to register the voice that had groaned when he’d sat up; the fine bedding beneath the hands propping him up; the wall he was staring in the direction of.

[And then he wanders around and eventually runs into Matthre and Lucienne. Matthre recognizes him as not-Dream on a close examination]

“That’s not ideal.” He’d hoped speaking would calm him down a little, but - he knew that voice. That fucker. They’d never actually denied being Fae, had they? Hoping he was wrong, he looked around for a mirror. He felt himself call it, but it appeared like in a dream - like he’d simply overlooked it before. The face staring back at him was familiar in all the wrong ways, save the eyes. Instead of the icy blue he’d expected, there were voids with twin stars. As bizarre as it seemed, it - kind of fit, actually. Hob raised a hand to his face reflexively, resting under his eye. It was strange to see Dream’s figure doing it.

“Right. Okay. Right.” Wind rattled at the doors to the balcony - balcony? Of course Dream had a balcony. “Maybe if I figure out where we are?” He mumbled to himself, making for the door. For all that Dream seemed more amenable to sharing personal information now (a name, even!), they were still used to Hob doing all the talking, and they hadn’t met much yet despite agreeing to keep a more friendly schedule. He hoped he was in or near London, but there was a pit in his stomach that doubted it. It grew as he stepped into the hall and realized just how massive Dream’s home must be.

He picked a direction and set off. Whatever storm lay outside seemed to be growing, which didn’t help his sense of dread in the slightest. As he kept walking, it seemed like a lecture hall’s worth of chatter was growing louder without growing any closer. Eventually, he came to hear snippets of it: “I have to remember to change that lightbulb”; “she reminds me of my niece”; “Did someone break in? …I really need to fold those clothes”; “Did I leave the stove on?” It left him distracted enough that he didn’t take in many details. The chatter and the storm and the knowledge that this was absolutely his fault swirled around him until he broke free to an open area. After looking around, he realized it was a throne room. Because of course it was. Suddenly, a number of things about Dream’s attitude and conduct made sense, but now he had absolutely no idea where he was.

“Hey, have we got another mission or something? That’s a hell of a gale.” He turned around, his eyes searching upward for the voice without him deciding to do so, landing on a raven flapping towards him from the presumably-front door. Before Hob decided what to say, the raven suddenly winged back, staring hard at him. He settled on the floor halfway down the room. “You aren’t the boss,” he said warily.

“No,” he confirmed. “I know him,” he added, hoping to head off the worst of any panic or interrogation. “But, um…yeah. I’m not Dream.”

“Oh, don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Hearing him say ‘um’ is freaky.”

He cast his mind back over old meetings, recalling how deliberately Dream spoke on the rare occasions that he did, even in 1689, when he’d done most of the talking. “Yeah, no, that’s fair.” He paused, contemplating what to say next. “This is my fault. I think I accidentally made a deal. Anyone I can talk to about that? Besides, y’know, Dream?”

“…yeah, yeah there might be someone.” He took to the air again, and Hob followed in his wake. The chatter and the storm pressed at the edges of his brain, but having someone to focus on helped. He paused as they crossed the threshold to a library. He was sure he’d been in here before, once or twice, and yet…he didn’t remember a damn thing about it.

*****

• Lucienne &/or Matthew call Death

• Death calls a family meeting

• “Alright. I’m hoping one of us did this, because if it was someone else, this becomes much more serious immediately. I have two prime suspects. Given that Delirium isn’t pointing and laughing, Desire needs to start talking”

“What, i didn’t do anything to Dream” and/or similar until “wait YOURE hob gadling?”/“someone tell me what Hob gadling looks like”/“where does Hob gadling live” and Desire realizes they fucked up more than intended and they are simultaneously delighted and terrified

[zorawitch]

sandman friends. somewhere out there in the depths of ao3. there is a fanfiction. no i don't remember the name. it is about desire going through a delirium-esque transformation into a creature of pure apathy that i believe is called dissatisfaction. has anyone seen it.

[un-unavoidableanxiousball]

✨ Meowpheus ✨

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Masterlist

Prompt used: "What's So Funny?", Don't Make Me Laugh

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dream of The Endless/Hob Gadling

Characters: Hob Gadling, Dream of The Endless, Desire of The Endless, Lucienne, Matthew

Tags: fluff, possible out of character, terrible advice, attempt at humor,

Warnings: none

Word count: 1743

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Dream of The Endless doesn't regret anything, especially if said things were forethought or downright planned. As of right now he's curled up on Hob Gadling's lap who's preparing notes for the next lesson - now and again receiving head scratches he's delighting in. And in that moment Hob's hand comes down to scratch behind his ear. Dream automatically closes his eyes and leans in. Half a minute later he lifts his hand, while chuckling at Dream's protesting meow.

If he literally purrs everytime it happens; Dream will never breathe a single word of.

Where was he? Ah, yes. He'll never go along Desire's schemes ever again. Here he is, in his cat form, unable to change. With that wretched collar around his neck he's rendered incapable of manipulating his form in any way.

Lately Dream has been wondering if this really was such a good idea. While being Hob's cat has been shockingly exceptional experience and at the same time not at all surprising. Having said that Hob's kindness and care put Dream off kilter making him feel as if he takes advantage of Hob. Which in turn is only a small piece of the whole picture considering what made him ask for his sibling's help.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Dream makes his way to the library to return a novel "Great Expectations" by Charles Dickens to its rightful place. After putting it back, Dream reaches for another, this time "If I Ever Get Out of Here" by Eric Gansworth. He turns to leave only to be met with Lucienne who's expression was curious with a hint of concern. A spark of irritation lit up at being interrupted, Dream quickly puts it out. "Lucienne." He nods.

"Do you require more assistance, my Lord? Recently the number of your visits to the library have greatly increased;" his librarian inquires, "Furthermore seeing the Dreaming's overcast weather, it reveals that you, Lord Morpheus, are at an impasse, caught in indecision. Therefore have been searching for insight."

"I suppose I, indeed, have found myself at a crossroad." Dream muses, "Months have passed in the Waking since I last met with Hob...I find I wish to visit him sooner."

"What stops you my Lord?"

"Seeing how he wasn't cross with me leaving as I did in 1889. I'd like to finally tell him my name. He's long overdue." He glances away. "However I fear, if I share it, the novelty will wear off..." He hesitates, "He'll grow to realise how appalling, rotten and broken I am. He takes me to be a mystifying and outlandish being which granted him immortality. While I might be those to him, with time they would give way to the more jarring ignorant, cruel, malicious abnormality and torment."

"If I may, sir? I don't think Hob would change his opinions of you that greatly, nor do I think him capable of discarding your friendship that quickly and easily. He was the one to offer his friendship and as you pointed out - he has accepted you upon return." Dream loosens his grip on the book, not sure when he started to tighten his hold. "But if one opinion doesn't suffice my Lord, you can always turn to your family for council."

"Thank you Lucienne. I shall consider it." With a nod Dream walks out.

Lucienne sighs and walks back to her desk. Moments later Matthew lands on the lamp's neck and caws. "That went pretty well. Right? For a minute there I thought you'd get struck by lightning!"

"It might have just looked like it Matthew. In fact since his return, Lord Morpheus makes an effort to ask for help and listen to advice. The fact that it didn't take that long to get him to open up about this dilemma clearly proves that."

Matthew fidgets in place. "What dilemma? It's pretty obvious to me that both of them are head over heels in love. And I saw them meeting. From afar. The amount of sexual tension there, was just-" he shudders-"nope, too much for me, definitely. Needed gallons of holy water after THAT." Lucienne's smile widens at Matthew's antics.

"Let's hope a talk with Death will point him in right direction."

『••✎••』

Slightly dreading upcoming conversation, Dream braces himself. Although his sibling's insight might prove to be valuable. Definitely has the capacity for when not busy scheming. "Desire, I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil, I seek your council, may I come through?"

"Go right ahead, Sweet Dream~"

In moments Dream steps into The Threshold. "I've never known you to be able of asking for help. What is it that you desire that you came all the way from The Dreaming to little old me?" They tease with a smirk, flicking their tail lazily.

"It concerns Hob Gadling." He said narrowing his brows.

"Who is he? Should I know him? Sounds boring." Dream grits his teeth in irritation at Desire's fake obliviousness and disinterest. "You know very well who it is I speak of."

Desire dramatically pulls back and puts their hand to their chest. "You wound me Sweet Dream, I know not of who that 'Hob Gadling' is. I have other things to do than torment and plot against you; shocking I know."

"He's the immortal human I've been meeting every century. Seeing as I failed to meet him in 1989 because of you, I plan to visit him more frequently. As he still favours our friendship." Desire considers their brother's statement. " Is that his name? I always wondered. Did you say Friends?" they grin, "Your heart tells me otherwise. What I don't know is what part of this concerns me?"

"I want your scheming hands away from him." At that Desire rolls their eyes. "If that's all you needed, then rest assured I didn't come nowhere near your precious little crush. And he's feelings are his own; I didn't influence him in any way." Dream relaxes, but only a bit. He has yet to go straight to the point of this visit.

"Besides I really don't understand how that poor soul went ahead and fell in love with you. Clearly it wasn't your fashion sense that did it. I suppose I must congratulate you. He sees something in you worth loving." Desire observes Dream, takes in how Dream seems to hold something back, hesitant. "What is it that truly brings you here? Spit it out."

"I came..." If one would put a squished lemon next to Dream's face at this moment, Desire wouldn't see any difference."...for advice. In 1889 I refused Hob's friendship, which he forgave me for. Yet again I've done him a disservice by withholding my name. If I were to aspire for more, I'd have to share it. However I fear in doing so, Hob will realise the mistake he made."

Dream is insecure. Sure given his relationship history it's not even surprising. But to come to them? Hob must be special indeed. They should feel honoured; But ultimately Desire couldn't help themself and bursts out laughing. "Oh Brother! You're making me laugh - please stop." They say trying to catch their breath. "What is it that you find so hilarious, sibling? My misery?"

""What's so funny?" he asks! It's your stupidity." They cackle. "So you won't assist. I shall take my leave." "Don't be like that. But fine I'll help you test the waters. But we're doing it my way."

『••✎••』

"That's your great idea?" Dream scowls.

"Have anything better in mind?" they argue back, "In fact this includes every thing you mentioned. First - you get all the TLC your heart desires." Desire raises their index finger and then their middle one. "Second - you get to see his human everyday life. Third - you can test Hob's boundries, see his reactions when pushed and not get rejected in the process." They tap their raised ring finger in thought. Desire make a dramatic shocked face. "Ah yess!" Their pinky joins the other fingers. "Fourth, my favourite~, you get to appriciate his oh so ever, without a doubt in your mind, attractive assets." Desire purrs with a cheshire-like grin.

Dream ignores them. "I'll have to inform Lucienne of my extended absence from The Dreaming."

"See you in a moment, Sweet Dream.~"

『••✎••』

"Lucienne, I'm planning to spend some time in The Waking for foreseeable future. I wish not to be disturbed unless it requires immediate attention." Dream speaks, and in the process scares Matthew. His raven flails cawing at his sudden appearance.

"Am I to understand the conversation went smoothly, sir?" She questions unstartled.

"Perhaps. I expect to receive weekly updates from Matthew, when I'm not otherwise engaged."

"Hey Boss? Isn't staying in the Waking *caw* dangerous for you or something? *Caw* With you getting captured and all?" Matthew tilts his head.

"While your concern is touching, it is unnecessary. I'll be in capable hands." He reassures the raven and then turns to his librarian. "I'll be leaving in a few moments. I trust you to do well looking after The Dreaming."

Lucienne lowers her head. "I won't disappoint sir."

『••✎••』

"There you are Little Dream." Desire says after noticing a black cat sitting on the floor. The cat's shoots daggers their way. "What? If we're to meet Hob like this, I might as well look the part." Desire gestures at themself, then kneel down in front of Dream. "Besides that includes you too." They reveal a black collar, the bow's ribbon covered in a mockery of a night-sky pattern. Dream didn't get time to brace himself, his sibling taking advantage of his inattention, fastens the collar around his neck. "Now we're set." They pick him up. "Let's go to Hob, shall we?"

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A temporary lapse in judgement, Dream vows not to let it happen again. Desire was right about the advantages; however they avoided telling him about the negatives - like guilt. Instead of bravely approaching Hob, he planned. To make matters worse, he went to the one sibling that likes to mess with him. Hob deserves better.

"Come on, Dream. Let's eat then head on upstairs yeah?" Hob rubs his thumb along Dream's head. Dream gives an answering meow, then jumps off Hob's lap to stretch himself.

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@fandom-free-bingo I got carried away. TwT I tried to write crack treated seriously..but I got confused along the way. And now idk if I managed that or not. :/

Tell me if rating is incorrect or other tags for that matter.