#desire of the endless fanfiction

[lis-likes-fics]

Finite

Pairings: Desire of the Endless x vampire!Reader Word Count: 10.5k word Warnings: NSFW, smut, death of unimportant character, blood sucking, oral (f!receiving), fingering, praise, p in v sex, multilple orgasms, slight dacryphilia, desire being fucking sexy... A/N: I think this got deleted somehow so I'm reposting it. This was my first Desire fic so I hope you still like it, lol.

This night reminds you of that one song. That song that goes on and on and on and on.

You have the whole setup. The singer in a smokey room sings her song on a tiny stage for a crowd of people who really aren't paying attention to her. The smell in the air isn't necessarily wine, but there is plenty of beer and whiskey and perfume, all of which are the cheap brands no one cares for but also don't care enough to be picky about. The smell is thick in the air. The murkiness aggravates you and clings uncomfortably to your skin, but you've dealt with worse enough not to care.

You have hunted better crowds, but you aren't really looking for hundreds of bodies at a festival too preoccupied to notice one or two missing people, nor are you looking for a frivolous venue where people are too rich for others to miss. It's not a great bar, but it's nice enough and big enough that people don't mind coming for a drink or two. There are tons of people tonight. Everything is half-off, and they'd rather pay less for more of the cheap, crappy booze than more for the expensive stuff.

It's late. There's a get-together occupying a couple of booths at one end of the room, a few people lining the seats of the bar, and more clusters occupying any empty spaces left. As the singer starts a new, more energized song, a small mass of people flock to the open space to dance. Most of it is drunk dancing, the kind with swaying hips and lidded eyes and waving hands.

You've been here for a few hours, tucked away in your booth with a drink in front of you that you haven't really touched. One of the bartenders, Carlos, knows you and always gives you half-off drinks because you come often and hardly order. He knows you like to pick up hot dates, sometimes you take them home and other times you sit and talk until one of you leaves—and on the occasion that you take someone home and he never sees them again, he’s smart enough not to question anything and be happy that there’s one less asshole for him to serve. He glances at you across the bar, giving a thumbs up to ask if you're okay. You nod back, smiling gently before turning your attention away again toward a couple sitting across the bar.

She's tucked under his arm, smiling wide as she cradles her drink in both hands. He smiles back at her, his hand on her arm rubbing circles. He's cheating on her. Just ten minutes before, after he'd told her he needed to use the restroom, you saw him down the hall with some other girl against the wall. She was also smiling and giggling, his arm above her and closing her in. He gave her his number before he left to his original girl.

You shake your head and turn away.

There's a woman sitting at the bar. She has been sitting there for a while, her phone in her hands as she types away at what you're assuming is a heated conversation. Her brows are furrowed, full of tension. She's slouched over her phone, her elbows on the counter and her knuckles clenched.

Your eyes flicker over when movement catches your attention. You glance over at a man approaching her, a smile on his face as he grows nearer.

"Hey," he says, leaning on his elbow next to her and eyeing her up and down, sizing her up like a predator does its prey. She looks up, bringing her glass closer to her and discreetly setting her palm over it.

“Yes?” she responds, shifting away from him.

“I saw you across the room,” he says, shrugging a shoulder. She shifts uncomfortably at his closeness, moving away from him as much as she could without standing. “You look lonely.”

She glances briefly around her. “I’m actually waiting for someone,” she lies, looking around again as if to solidify her words.

He shrugs again, easing a step closer. “Yeah? Why don’t I keep you company while you wait, huh?” You’ve already moved to your feet, walking over toward the pair, the short heel of your shoes clicking dully on the wooden floor and becoming a rhythm in the back of your brain that echoes there like a silent warning.

“I’m okay,” she says, ready to stand and leave now.

“I insist.”

You come up to the bar, leaning over it and looking for Carlos with a smile. “Hey, can I get a refill, please?” Carlos spots you and nods, his own smile on his lips as he grabs a bottle and heads toward you.

The man looks at you, his attention shifting as he eyes your little black dress. His smirk widens and he looks at the girl. “S’cuse me, sweetheart.” As he makes his way over to you, fixing his hair as he does, you look away and pretend not to notice.

Your eyes scan the bar briefly, looking for no one in particular as they do. As you’re bringing your focus back around, you suddenly stop as a vision of white catches your eyes. There, tucked away in a dark corner of the room but somehow glowing like an enchanted treasure, is a person you had yet to notice.

White hair is combed and styled away from a pale face, whose blood red lips hide white teeth. Golden eyes watch you, staring into your soul as they glow and flicker with mischief and temptation. You’re stuck, gazing at such a charming creature as those red painted lips curl in an alluring grin.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is swiftly taken again as you look back at the real reason you had come over here. “Oh,” you mumble, glancing back over your shoulder at the figure who had disappeared, as though they had never existed to begin with. You look back at the man, shaking your head gently and letting a smile take your lips again as you refocus. “Uh, yeah. I’d love that.”

The woman glances at you, her eyes both relieved for herself and worried about you. As your eyes meet, your smile softens and you give her a wink. You watch her lips shift, a tiny smile making its way to her own lips as she takes your response with gratitude. She flags down Carlos and pays for her drink before she gathers her things and leaves before the guy notices her again. She mouths a “thank you” to you as she does.

You almost tense as his hand lands on the small of your back, his thumb stroking you there as he leans in some more. You look up at him over your shoulder, offering him a reflection of the smirk on his face as you turn your body to face him. You lean in closer, your hand on his chest as you take him in. As you size him up. The apex predator to prey higher up the food chain. “We can skip the drink if you want…” You lower your voice to a smooth seduction, tapping your fingers against his chest and looking at him through your lashes. You nearly whisper, “I think we can have a little more fun if we get out of here. How does that sound?”

He chuckles darkly. “Like music to my ears.”

You move out of his grip as you wave to Carlos and saunter toward the door. He follows after you, holding a hand out as he sets it on your hip. You glance over your shoulder as you walk, continuing to beckon him as you both step out into the slight chill of the night, surrounding you in a darkness that’s only dangerous for one of you.

~

You listen to the slowing of a dying heart, rapid thumps reduced to faint rattles against a weak chest. The blood coursing through his veins slowly diminishes, coming in smaller gulps than before as you take your fill, quenching your thirst for as long as his bittersweet taste will hold you.

The fight left a long time ago—and you let him fight. He wasn't very strong.

You pull away from his throat with a long sigh, your head lolling back as the sharp canines in your gums retract to an unassuming point. You hum, looking down at his lifeless face before dropping him carelessly to the dirty stone ground.

You shudder, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth with a drunken grin.

"Psst."

You tilt your chin toward your shoulder, stilling completely to listen to the unmoving air around you. You wait, slowly shifting your chin to the other side as your eyes scan the space you can see without turning around.

“Hello, dear…”

That voice. It melts on your skin like caramel, warm and smooth and rich. It’s got a rasp to it that rolls in your chest, echoes off your bones like footsteps on a marble floor.

You hum gently, turning around as you look around for the disembodied voice. You raise a brow, “Hello.” Cracking a small grin, you place your hands in your pockets and sigh. “Come on out. Don’t be shy,” you beckon. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Your tone is akin to comforting a frightened animal to your arms, the added taunt a whisper in your words.

But it seems they’ve got some taunts of their own.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

You chuckle lightly, doing one more small circle around yourself to ensure whoever is watching knows just how amused you are by the theatrics. “Then why are you still whispering from the shadows?” you wonder aloud.

A chuckle rolls out of them, a deep, throaty sound that sinks into your flesh. The sound of footsteps reverberates along the dark walls of the buildings surrounding the two of you. The echoed laugh which once bounced off the space around you now focused on one spot as shadows became a silhouette of a person. As a silhouette became a person, you cast your eyes upon an enchanting being as you looked them up and down appreciatively.

They are wearing black, similarly to you—it just makes things easier on nights like these—and a deep red that pops against porcelain skin. A lacey red bustier is worn tight around their body, intricately designed like the expensive fabric of royals. Their slacks and floor length blazer are dark as night, accented with gold jewelry and heels—like the thick golden chain around their neck holding a heavy heart over their chest.

You tilt your head to the side. “You were at the bar.”

The face from the bar that had briefly distracted you from tonight’s prey smiled. “I was.”

You look them up and down again. “Who are you?” They tilt their head, inquiring more. You shrug, “You’re not human. You aren’t like me.” You straighten your back a little, your brows furrowing as a new solemnity sinks in, “Who are you?”

They smile wide, another chuckle slipping from them as they shake their head at you. Asking the wrong questions, it seems. “Who I am doesn’t really matter, dear,” they say in a voice warm and smokey, like the embers of a fire.

“Oh?” you hum. “Then what really matters, pray tell?”

“You.” Your breath stilled in your chest, though you said nothing. “The reason I'm here. I looked at you and I saw…” They make a face, one full of curiosity as they try to find a word that accurately describes what they mean to say, looking away as if the walls had the answer and waving a hand.

“What?” you encourage.

They breathe in deep, turning their gaze back upon you. Their smile widens again, full of mischief and…something else. “Longing,” they rasp. “So much longing.” They sigh, their hands finding their pockets once more and their head shaking slowly. A click of their heels marks another step toward you. “What is that I saw in you?”

A gentle shrug of your shoulders brushes off the question. “I’ve lived centuries,” you say. “There is plenty to ‘see in me’.”

They watch you like they’re unconvinced, looking you up and down with a skeptical gaze. “And yet…”

You sigh, shifting from one foot to the other as you regard them with a little more impatience than before. “What does it matter that I tell you?”

They laugh again, a little louder this time with that same bravado as before. “All this talk about what matters…” They wave a hand dismissively, rolling their eyes as they go before finding your gaze again and taking another step forward, “It doesn’t. The only difference between telling me or telling the wind is that the wind has no power.”

You raise a brow, “And you do?”

The pride that shines in their face as they smile, tilting their chin up just to look down on you. “Let’s just say…” they lean forward just enough to make the point, “I can give you what you want.”

Your eyes flicker away for a split of a second. “How?”

“Well, that depends.” They shrug a shoulder, still taking a couple more steps toward you, stalking like a predator as they slowly move closer and closer. Who the apex is in this situation, you're unsure now. “Tell me, dear… What is it you desire?” Their voice washes over you and warms you chest in a way that makes you shudder.

A war goes on between the very fibers of your being. The better half of you that doesn’t believe in these tricks is ready to feed on the luscious scent of their blood and be done with it, but that other part nagging you about what is and what can be is telling you to heed their words, if only with caution. You stand there, contemplating with yourself for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds.

If you entertain them a little while longer, it could end up changing your life forever or simply be another hour of your immortal soul ticked away into the past. There’s no real harm in it.

So you look them in the eye and play along, your answer as blunt as you can make it to get through this interaction as quickly as possible.

“Freedom.”

They tilt their head. “From what?”

“This. This life.” Something in you had you speaking before your brain could come up with a more logical, stoic answer. It’s as though the truth was being pulled from you, word by tantalizing word. Your hands leave your pockets and you’re the one stepping closer this time as you speak. “I want to be human again, feel human again,” you confess with only a little bit of the desperation you feel. You lick your lips, your tongue wandering to the fang hiding behind them. “I’ve been living like this for too long.”

They regard you, taking you in with a tilted chin and a calculating gaze. They hum, smiling gently. “Perhaps…” The smile falls and their head tilts back down, “but no.”

You shake your head, confusion seeping into your face. “No?”

“I can see your heart. I feel its warmth, its want, its need.” They step forward again, but this time their feet carry them in a path around you as they circle and speak, evaluating your body as if looking right through you. You don’t move, sighing and rolling your eyes as you stand there. Their scent swirls around you like the sweetest perfume, and you’re already starving again at the smell of it. “You want to feel human, but being human isn’t the same.”

They shake their head, biting their lower lip as they sigh. “No, you don’t want mortality. You want something so much harder to obtain. Something humans and gods alike can go entire lifetimes without having.”

You raise a brow, already tired of this conversation. “Which is?”

They stop in front of you, their smile almost a sneer by the way it condescends you, mocking you as though you could not rip them apart. “Love.”

You straighten your back a little more, not appreciating being read like this, having desires shown to you that you had locked away a long time ago. They are wrong. You don’t want that anymore, you’ve seen it too many times, felt it too many times. It’s always too good to last.

But they continued. “You want to love and to be loved. The most basic want of all life,” they shrug, glancing away like the prospect is so trivial, “and yet the most foolish.” They chuckle at that, the thought absurd.

You chuckle as well, though yours is filled with a little more irritation than amusement as you shake your head. You lick your bottom lip and direct a sneer of your own toward them. “Only a fool would hold out hope for love with what I’ve learned.”

They raise their brows, perking up in a cat-like fashion. “And what is that?”

You take your time answering. “Love is fleeting.” Silence fills the space between the two of you in the moments where you aren’t speaking. They watch intently, clinging to every word with a kind of delight and fascination that makes you huff. “It can be as cold as ice and as raging as fire. It can die out just as quick or," your lips almost curve in a fond smile, "live for decades.” You hesitate, looking away for a moment as you frown again.

“But it always ends. One way or another, everything ends.” There’s a kind of heartbreak in your voice that they have not heard in a very long time. It makes the delight in their chest dwindle to something a little more sober. Their eyes land on a necklace hanging over your chest, listening to you as they stare at the trinket. You shake your head from solemn thoughts. “I learned not to love a long time ago. Saves a lot of heartache.”

They look back up to your eyes where your gazes linger in the other’s. There’s a sort of understanding now, a moment where the both of you are no longer just non-human entities meeting and toying with the other, a moment where you’re finally on the same page.

They breathe in, breaking the silence with the most care. “And yet…” a pause to sigh, “your heart aches.”

You look away, clenching your jaw. Shaking your head, you turn back to them, your willingness to go along with this joke dwindling by the second. “Enough of this,” you say. “You cannot get me what I want, I have no use of you. But your blood…” You smile with teeth, allowing your fangs to protrude once more. “Well, your blood smells delicious.”

They almost look offended as they look at you, but not in the least bit afraid. They stand up straighter, chest puffing out a little more. “Who says I can't get you what you want?” They tilt their head to the side, raising a hand to their chest where their fingers brush the thick golden heart. “Do you know who I am?”

You shrug dismissively. “Someone’s wasting my time.” You breathe a humorless laugh. “Which is strange, as mine is so infinite at the moment.”

They shake their head, turning and walking away slowly, their head tilted toward their shoulder to speak to you. “Nothing is infinite. Nothing is endless.” They pause, looking at you fully with a taunting grin. “Except for me, of course.”

You freeze. The annoyance washes into fascination. Your eyes go wide and your lips part, but it’s a full-bodied reaction as you stare in wonder. “Endless…” you mutter, the silent suspicion you’d turned down as soon as it appeared coming back to the surface at the word, the revelation. “So you are. You’re an Endless.”

The delight has returned, pride and regality accompanying it. “You know me?”

“Of course, I do,” you reply. “You’re Desire.”

Their smile is the widest you’ve seen it, shining with a type of superiority that finally suits them with the new information pinned to their character. The stories are definitely true—they are the most alluring being you have ever laid eyes on. But not only that, the mischief and taunting surrounding their name through time also seem to have plenty of truth to it.

“Clever girl.” Their voice is deep with that smoky rasp. You nearly shudder again.

A new seriousness washed over you at another realization. “So you can give me what I want.”

“With a price, yes.” Their arms crossed over their chest in a delicate way, their head inclined upward as they regarded you. “Would you like to hear it?”

You take a moment to decide, scanning the face of this powerful entity. “They warn about making deals with Desire of the Endless.”

They raise a brow, a curious look glittering in their eyes. “Who?”

You scoff, “Anyone who’s ever heard of Desire of the Endless.”

Desire shrugs a shoulder, seemingly proud of the reputation they’ve built. “Well, ‘anyone’ would be correct.” They narrow their golden eyes, smirking, “But I have a feeling you don’t necessarily have much care for such things, do you?”

“Not necessarily,” you admit. You stare into their eyes, unwavering as you thought, trying to make a solid decision but still heeding the warnings and caution you’ve heard in reference to beings like these. “What do you want?” you asked.

They breathe in deep, looking you up and down as a mischievous grin widens red lips. Their lips part, beginning to find shape around their reply as they watch. “You.”

You hold your breath but do nothing else to give away the anticipation. You figured as much but you hadn’t cared enough to actually put belief into it as you spoke. The idea has your pulse jumping and your breath thinning. You hum, shrugging it off. “That’s all?”

They shrug as well. “What else is there for me to want?”

You raise a brow. “No agent of desire to bring you back wanting and wayward souls?”

They wave that off. “Oh, I have plenty of those.” Taking a step forward, their height becomes a little more apparent as your head tilts back slightly to hold eye contact. Their index finger comes to rest over their lips, curling back down to their chin.

Desire’s gaze was hot on your face, dragging over your body and filling you with more heat than even a fresh kill could provide. They evaluated you, your body, your face, the very essence of your soul, and you hate that you shudder under their scrutinization as they do. They shake their head, amused. “No, your body will do just fine.”

You swallow thickly. “And, if I do it. If I say yes…” your heart jumps at the idea, “you’ll make me human?”

They tilt their head. “No.” They walk past you, waving a hand as they begin a slow circle once more, still taking in every inch of your body with a warming appreciation. “Unfortunately, I do not have that power. But,” they smile again, breathing in as they stand in front of you once more, “I can give you what you crave more.”

You roll your eyes, beginning to turn away from them. “I don’t want–”

“I can give you someone to love.” You pause, your back turned as you become completely still. You feel as though your body is shaking as you stand there, refusing to face them as you cling to every saccharine word falling from their lips. “Someone whose life won’t be so fleeting and needlessly fragile. You’ll have love for them for as long as your soul has the potential to have it.”

You blink, looking down at the ground as you contemplate, letting the silence stretch between you. Your lips tingle as you part them to speak, though it takes a moment for the sounds to even breach your lips. “And…”

“And?”

You sigh silently. “Will…” You lick your lips, slowly turning on your heel to face them, taking a moment too long to meet their gaze. “Will they love me back?” Your voice is so quiet, so desperate for something that feels so unobtainable. You hate it but you ignore it for the sake of hope, of possibility.

A shoulder rises and sinks slowly. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?” It’s a possibility, at least.

They step forward, beginning to shorten the distance again. “I can promise you this… you will be happy.” The look in their eyes, for the first time all night, seemed to hold a dash of empathy as they watched you.

You swallow the smallest lump in your throat, glancing away. “But none of it would be real.”

“Who says?” Their brow furrows at your words. Desire shakes their head, “This love will not be made artificial, otherwise it would fail. I will simply…ignite what is already there, amplify it to outweigh doubt and petty apprehensions. This love will be as real as you or me, as real as the sun’s fire or the stars burning thousands of lightyears away.”

Their poetry clings to your bones, making you believe for a moment that Desire isn’t just a creature of lust but one of true love and affection. You watch, your breath shallow in your lungs, your throat tight, and your heart stuttering against your ribcage. As Desire stepped forward and into your space, your symptoms worsened. Their eyes never left yours.

“This love will be genuine, and it will last in its full intensity for as long as there is the smallest ember of need or want for it.” They raise a hand, a slender finger hooking under your chin and their thumb tenderly stroking the skin there. They tilt your head up, tugging gently on your bottom lip. “It is entirely up to your heart to decide.”

Your eyes glue to their own lips as yours tingled with a desire for more than these teasing touches. It takes a moment to find your voice again.

“Who is it?”

They smile wide. “Well, that spoils the fun, doesn’t it?”

You roll your eyes, still not daring to move in case they break away from you. “Do I know them, at least?”

They shrug. “In a manner of speaking.”

You sigh. “Do you ever give straight answers?”

Your worst fears come true when Desire breaks away from you, stepping away with a sigh and a raised brow. “Do you ever stop asking questions for me to give unclear answers to?”

You roll your eyes, catching your breath again. You need the oxygen to think, and you only just realized you were holding your breath. Desire waits patiently for you to decide.

You bite your bottom lip, feeling your heart thump. You peek up at them through your lashes, the look you give too vulnerable for your liking. “I will be happy?”

“The happiest.”

“Then…” you take in a deep, steadying breath and nod gently. “I accept.”

A smile splits their face in two as they look at you, pride and entertainment and something else filling their face to the brim as their tongue slips between their teeth to lick a sharp canine. They walk forward in strides, taking an arm around your waist and pulling you in as your breath hitches.

“Then let us begin.”

~

Lips and teeth and tongue clash together in some mad, lustful dance. Fingers tangle in hair and hands grasp at shirts and skin, desperate for the touch of intimacy—soft or rough, it did not matter. What matters is the skin on skin contact that had not yet been breached as Desire pushes you against the glossy, red walls of the Threshold.

Your hands have found their hair so many times, it's a disheveled mess. One of their hands travel up your side, cradling the side of your neck before rounding to the front to cup it, squeezing gently and making your lips part as you gasp. A chuckle borders on a growl as their teeth nip your bottom lip, trailing down to your jaw.

"Look at you," their voice is a deeper rasp in your ear, warming your body to an impossible temperature. "You're so hungry for my touch, aren't you?"

Your hands begin pulling off the long black coat until it pools on the ground, already gone from your mind. Their bare arms are revealed to you, smooth like the porcelain they reflect. You were reaching for their crimson belt before their hand grabs at you, a firm but gentle tug on your jaw as their fingers dig into your skin.

A sort of growl erupts from their throat as they smile down at you, “Answer me, my pet.”

You breathe a shallow breath as you nod, forced to look them in the eye and melt at the sight. “Yes,” you reply.

They devour you once more, lips to lips, chest to chest. Your hand wraps around their back, tangling in their hair once more. You tug back just enough to expose their neck, pressing your lips there as you kiss and nip and suck. It takes a lot not to sink your teeth into the awaiting flesh—or at least, not completely. You did bite down, unable to help yourself, but not enough to draw blood. A rough moan grumbles out of them at the sensation, bending down to pick you up and wrap your legs around them.

“Naughty girl,” they breathe in the middle of a heated kiss.

You bite their lip, smiling wide at their shuddered breaths. Without letting go, you grin deeply as you whisper, “I can be worse.”

“Oh,” they chuckle, the word almost a moan. “Promise?”

In the next moment, you’re falling backwards. Before you can try to catch yourself, your back lands on a plush mattress covered in silk and a multitude of pillows, red and black like just about everything else in this place. The bed was huge and round, you could fit ten people on it and still have room for more.

As you're looking around yourself, Desire’s lips find your neck again and you melt against them. You curse under your breath, drunk on the feeling as you gasp. Their hand slips underneath your shirt, going up, up, up until their palm cups your breast over your bra. You are shaken to your core when their hands claw around the bra and rip it from your body, tearing it off of you and tossing it away like trash.

They grope you underneath your dress, which is somehow hotter than if they had stripped you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you moan, but their voice next to your ear has you shivering at a command. “Open your eyes and look at me, sweetling.” You make yourself do as you’re told, breathing heavily as you do.

They hum deeply, watching you with an admiration and lust filled gaze that would have made you clench your thighs, had their body not been between them. “Beautiful,” they sigh.

They entwine their fingers with your own, pulling them above your head and pinning them there as they continue to watch you. It isn’t until you feel something fuzzy around your wrists and hear the faint but telling click of metal when you realize just what they had been up to.

You look up at the furry white cuffs around your wrists, chaining you to the bed and leaving you vulnerable. Their hands stroke your sides, smiling wide as they kiss your neck, knowing how much you love it, how much you melt and moan at the feeling of your throat being caressed and touched and bitten.

Their lips ghost over your jaw as they speak in a deep whisper. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me to slow down, and I will. Tell me to keep going…” their smile widens, mischievous, dangerous, “and I just might.”

You watch them, your lungs hardly being utilized at this point. They raise a brow, “Understand?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“I can’t hear you,” they say in a sing-songy voice.

“Yes, sire,” you say, louder this time as you feel your skin tingling.

“Good girl.”

This time it is a growl and your skin is no longer tingling, it’s on fire. You watch them travel down the column of your throat, reaching your clothed chest and taking the fabric between their teeth. Their hands find the neckline of your dress, grasping and ripping it down the middle with no regard for it. They smile in appreciation of your skin revealed to them.

“I liked that dress,” you mumble.

“Well, I like it more like this.” They dangle the fabric and drop it on the floor with a dashing smile. You roll your eyes, interrupted as lips press to the bare skin of your belly, leaving red lipstick behind. You think they did it on purpose, because only the single print of a pair of lips is tattooed on your belly, but no other marks are left after that one. Their tongue pokes out every now and then licking your skin, usually after their teeth have nipped you.

All of this teasing will be the end of you. Desire of the Endless knows how to pleasure, to bring you to the edge of lust with a few words, a few touches, a few kisses. They’ve given you all three, and you’re going to blow.

“Please,” you whisper, squirming underneath them.

Their face lights up at the sounds as they look at you, still caressing your skin as they do. “What was that?”

You sigh, “Please, Desire.” You bend your knees, spreading your legs wide to invite them in. You'll beg if it means an end to the taunting. “Please touch me.”

Their hands find purchase along your thighs. “You’re so needy, my pet.” They kiss low on your belly again, palms smoothing over your legs. Taking the fabric of your panties in their hands, they rip them from your body and throw them away. You roll your eyes, but your sass is interrupted when a warm, wet tongue licks wide along your pussy.

The heightened sensations course through your veins like fire and a low moan simmers from your throat. You curse under your breath when their lips wrap around you, tongue plunging between your folds and filling you with pleasure.

You tug on the chains, moving to break them with your sheer strength, but they don't budge. You feel their lips spread wider in an almost malicious smirk. They curl their tongue inside of you, suckling on your clit before pulling away and licking their lips, the red still intact.

"You're not getting out of those," they purr. "Trust me."

You almost scoff at that. "Trust me". Yeah, right.

But, at the same time, you're the one chained to the bed with your legs spread open for (the equivalent of) the god of desire. Your thoughts are immediately disassembled once more when lips find the hot junction of your thighs.

Your knees bend and you squirm at the feeling, your eyes closing as you toss your head back. Their fingers curl tighter around your thighs as they feed off your pleasure, straying from your cunt to lick along damp thighs, teeth finding the plush skin just to sink into it.

Your back arches then, a deeper moan clawing at your throat as that ecstacy spreads. Fuck, you hadn't realized just how much you enjoyed having someone else sink their teeth into your flesh for once, to have someone else feed off of you just for the pleasure of it.

"Desire," you moan, unable to hold back this time from your audible arousal. You didn't want to give so much satisfaction to a being already so smug. But they did deserve it—a sort of giving credit where it's due.

You pull at your restraints again, whimpering when nails like claws dig into your skin and scratch down the length of them to give rise to angry red lines. You bite down on your lip. You draw blood.

You don't seem like the only one who can smell it when their mischievous face peers up at you with that curling grin, traveling back up the length of you to kiss hungrily at awaiting lips. What you share shouldn't be described as a kiss, not with the way you both bite and tear, devouring one another in a rough but empowering passion.

The taste of your blood is sweet in nature as they lick it from your lip. You wrap your legs around their waist, and they smile as they move one hand to support one. "Oh, baby," they groan. "You are divine."

You bite their lip in return, hard enough just to manage the slightest taste of the aroma that had been so attractive before. Though it's hardly a sample, the taste is like nothing you have ever had before. Human blood was great, especially coming from someone whose blood was pure, but this… You would kill for this. You would maim and massacre for this.

Another moan draws from you, fangs returning at the intoxicating taste. Before you can think to control yourself, you lunge forward in an attempt to take a bite out of them, just a nibble, just a taste. But Desire could not have been quicker as a pale hand wraps around your neck and stops you, pinning you down against the bed with a malicious smirk and a cruel laugh.

You come back to yourself almost immediately as the mist clears, reminding you who you are and what you’ve just done. For half a second, shame and panic fills you before you return to an unapologetic stoicism.

"Now, now, my little sapling," they tut, leaning in with no care for safety to whisper in your ear. "You'll get a taste of me soon enough."

The promise of such a treat fills the pit of your stomach with warmth that spreads throughout your body and tingles in all the right places. If you weren't already aroused before, you were practically dripping now, salivating at the prospect. Their lips find your neck, tongue darting out to lick over a vein before biting down into the skin there and lighting a fire within you.

Your arms flex against the cuffs and a restlessness fills your bones. You need more.

A slender finger pokes at the slick folds of your cunt, tracing the seam with an annoying amount of expertise before slipping inside. It fills you, inch by inch until it's buried to the hilt. In and out, their finger dips and curls and coaxes gentle whimpers from you. Adding another finger, and then another still, your whimpers become louder as pace builds.

"You're so wet, my darling," they dawn, the words dissolving in a moan as they speak. "Could it be that you wanted this so badly? You needed it?" They shift down to take a nipple into their mouth, flicking and sucking with teeth and tongue. The shift gave a new angle as they continue to create a speed that has your hips bucking. The sounds of a palm slapping against a soaking little cunt fill the space and your moans are next to follow.

"Listen to you," they continue, voice dripping with arousal. "So needy, so wanting. And look at you," they laugh, "You're practically begging me to fuck you dumb."

You don't respond. You don't know what you'd respond with—Nuh-uh? You buck your hips up some more, losing breath over the way their tongue massages your nipple, licking into it and somehow creating the most overwhelming pleasure out of the smallest thing.

You miss it when they pull away, kissing down to your belly again before their mouth is met with your pretty pussy once more. They don't waste time as their lips and tongue create an assault on your clit.

Their fingers continue to pump inside of you, driving you mad with the aid of their skilled tongue. Your curses don't seem to matter, no matter how much you make them as you continue to let your hips seek out the pleasure. When it becomes too much and too little all at once and it all feels like teasing, your body moves before your mind to flip yourself over onto your knees, shifting to accommodate for the fact that you are still very much cuffed to the bed.

Desire is pleasantly surprised by the new angle, situated under you with your desperate hips against their face. Golden eyes flutter shut, playing along as fingers dig into the meat of your ass to guide you in your grinding. It almost sounds like muttering as they moan underneath you, the vibrations trembling along your spine.

After a particularly rough grind, they reward you with a smack to your ass, grabbing the flesh momentarily before rubbing their palms against you again. As they suckle around your clit, slowly adding more pressure to pull you closer to your release, you moan and sigh, eager for that release to fill you.

You throw your head back and gasp when you cum, thighs trembling and shaking as they refuse to let up. As the aftershocks spark, electricity in your veins, your fingers tangle in their hair as you sit up, pulling your hips away to catch your breath.

They lick their lips, tasting you on their skin with an immense amount of appreciation. "You are delectable, my sweet," they purr, undoing the furry cuffs with a chuckle and sitting up to pull you into their lap.

"You're not so bad yourself," you breathe as you wrap your arms around their shoulders. You lean forward, bumping your lips against theirs with a little bit too much intimacy before allowing yourself to soothe into the kiss, tasting yourself on their lips with a quiet hum.

Moving one hand over their chest, you slip it down slowly until you are finally able to undo the red belt wrapped around their waist. They smile against your lips as you slide your hand inside and meet slick folds. You make a short humming sound, almost a grunt.

"What?" they mumble against your lips. "Expecting something else?"

You shrug, leaning back in for a deeper kiss as you tease them, guiding your finger inside with a long stroke, adding a second in on the next one. A grumbling moan vibrated against your mouth.

With one hand tangled in their hair, you unweave your fingers in favor of finding the strings along their back, pulling at it slowly to remove the bustier hiding so much smooth skin from you. Just as you are able to loosen it, feeling it slipping off their form, they pull you back with a primal sound.

Desire pushes you off of them, to which you stare with kiss-swollen lips. You watch as they continue the process, finally stripping for you so you aren't the only one of you nude. They hover over you once again, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss as you smooth a hand down their side, sticking your fingers back into the warmth of their pussy.

Their eyes flutter at the feeling, opening to look back at you with a seductive grin as they kiss you again.

Your bodies move together as you take your time to stroke and thrust, curling your fingers against all the right places to pull delicious moans from their perfect throat. You hold the side of their neck, bringing your lips to the other as you nibble at the skin, practically salivating at the scent of what lies just on the other side of such delicate flesh.

You chuckle as a sigh passes their lips when you pull your hands from them. They cast an almost disappointed look upon you as you wrap your arms around them and sit up, pushing them onto their back. You hover over them this time, kissing their lips quickly before you shift to kiss down their body.

You hadn't intended to tease at first, but as your lips brushed over their clit, you pause, looking up with a smirk. Staring at them, you kiss it gently before moving down again to kiss along their thighs.

"Oh, don't you dare," they chuckle darkly, watching you take a thigh in your hand and smother it with lips and tongue and teeth. You ignore them, continuing to give affection to the skin there as you switch sides.

They huff your name—a name you had not yet given prior to all of this—and lean back with closed eyes. "Fuck, will you make me beg?"

Your smirk deepens as your teeth nibble at the skin just above their femoral artery. "I might," you chuckle.

They don't reply at first, holding on to the pride they'd dangled over you since they met you in the alleyway. The teasing becomes too unbearable to endure as you draw closer and closer to the place they wanted you most to be. They give in with a huffed "fine" after you'd reflected on how you could do this all night—you only have an eternity.

"Alright, please," they mumble, a hand finding your hair and grasping. "Please forget your insistent taunting and fuck me."

You'd take it.

With one last kiss to the top of their knee, you smile. "Okay." They roll their eyes but you cut them off with your lips on their slick cunt. It's not as they expected it to be as you immediately go in for the prey, your tongue plunging in and out, your lips suckling on a pulsing clit. Their hands tangle in the bedsheets before upgrading to your messy hair once more.

You spread their legs wide, adding your fingers back after another long moment of listening to pleasant moans as you thrust them inside.

"That's it," they sigh. "Just like that, my darling." More praises fall from their lips throughout the time you spend with your head buried between their legs. You enjoy every second immensely, tasting the sweet nectar of their arousal as you coax it from them, taking the grinding of their hips every time you curl your fingers or suck on their clit. You could spend forever down here.

As their walls flutter around your fingers, you only work harder to get them toward the edge. And when you send them over it with a shuddering gasp melted into a louder moan than you'd expected, you smile proudly.

"Oh, fuck!" they breathe. "Such a good g-irl."

You hadn't expected Desire to be as vocal as they are, their fingers firm in your hair as they tug and gasp with a lewd grin in place. You let your tongue explore a moment longer before pulling away, licking the arousal still seeping. You turn your head toward their thigh again, licking over that same artery again with a tentative bite before kissing it and moving back to Desire's lips.

You sigh against their lips. "Are we done?"

They laugh like it was a joke. "Babygirl, not even close."

They actually growl when they take your head in their hands and kiss you, a rough and guttural sound as they pull you into their lap with your legs wrapped around them. They bite your bottom lip enough to draw blood again, trailing their lips further down to your neck as they paint you in their affection.

Your eyes flutter shut as you lean your head back, sighing as you feel the touch of their lips at your throat. You stiffen for a moment when a warm length presses against your folds. As you look down again, you're surprised to be greeted by a cock and not a cunt against yours.

Long fingers stroke it, fingertips gliding over the bottom and up to the tip where it glistens with precum.

"Expecting something else?" they repeat with a raised brow.

You shrug, choosing not to comment and worsen an already inflated ego. You lift yourself up a little on your knees as you kiss them again, allowing your hands to find their new home in the messy locks of Desire's hair. Their hands squeeze your hips, moving down some more to cup your ass in their palms with a sudden smack.

You mewl and roll your hips forward, your folds just slightly brushing over an erect cock that had not been there a mere minute ago. Flushed red at the tip, it was a generous size. It was actually perfect as you felt it rub against you.

Desire steadied you by your hips, bringing a hand to your chin as they spoke softly, in that smooth, smokey tone that melted on your skin like honey. "Do you want to continue, heartstring?"

You try to lean forward, to kiss your confirmation. They don't let you, pulling away just out of reach as they await your response. You nod gently, smoothing your knuckles along their jaw and licking your bottom lip. "Yes, sire," you whisper back, closing the distance once more with a tentative kiss as you sink back into them.

They moan against your mouth as you kiss, mixing with yours as they position themself at your wet cunt, sliding inside with ease and splitting you on their cock. You breathe each other's air this close to the other, fingers in soft white hair and hands on beautifully carved hips. You sit in their lap, taking a moment just to feel the length buried to the hilt inside of you. A shudder runs down your spine as their fingertips trace up your sides and along the line of your back.

You ease up on your knees, feeling them dragging along your walls as they pull out before you drop your weight back down in a measured stroke. Their hands find your hips again, guiding you on the second stroke, then the third, then the fourth. It isn't long before a pace builds and the careful sets of up and down become a breath-filled repetition of eager thrusts.

You bounce up and down on top of them, their hands gripping you as you brace yourself on their shoulders. Up and down and up and down, you give into the pleasure as the moans stifle in your throat on your own accord. As their lips trail along the column, it becomes harder. This spot will always be your weakness, and they know all too well as their teeth graze the skin.

"Hmm," they rasp. "Look at you, so eager." They pull your hips down for a rough thrust and a shocked gasp falls out of you. They breathe in sudden and deep, smiling as their face forms in a lustful look reminding you of relief and peace. They almost look softer like this, kinder. You work harder to embrace that look, to watch them as you find yourself addicted to the sight of it.

"Just like that," they say, breathy and light, the words almost sounding unfinished by a tongue made lazy. "Mmm, moan for me, dear. Let me hear how good you feel."

And again, you give in, allowing yourself to succumb to the rest of the pleasure taunting you as you release the moans hounded into your throat. "Desire," you whimper, the sound of your thighs smacking against their lap, both slick now from the arousal dripping out of you. You don't know what to say, you just want to let the sound of their name pleasure your mouth as their cock pleasures your cunt.

"Do you love it?" Tongue tracing, teeth biting, lips grazing. All these sensations burn in your heart, fills you with a fondness that eats away at the apathy you thought you'd grown over the years. “Do you love how I fuck you?”

Your teeth sink into your abused bottom lip, which slips from its grip pale before flushing with blood again. "I do," you huff. "I love it."

You grind in their lap, burying your face in the crook of their neck, teasing the skin with your teeth. Desire feels your fangs scraping their flesh and shudders. "Let it go," they rasp in your ear like the whispers of fate and destiny. "Give yourself to me… All to me."

With a breath not yet released, you sunk your teeth into warm flesh, piercing the skin and feeling the hot rush of ambrosia filling your mouth. You groan roughly, moving a hand to support the other side of their neck as you pull more and more of their essence into you, forgetting yourself in the temptations of Desire.

Their lips part as shallow breaths stutter out from their lungs. Repetitive mumbles of "yes, yes, yes," from their lips as you feed from them and they feed from you. Their thumb finds your clit, and you stutter momentarily at the pleasure that suddenly fills you at their calculated circle. The pleasure kicks, like flickering flames too eager to spread and ignite.

It happens so naturally as their words—"let go"—whisper in your ear, yet creates such an explosion of ecstasy that you almost can't breathe. Their name leaves you in a moan as you grind your hips in an indulgent swivel. Your walls flutter around them, clenching as the waves of euphoria intoxicate you and you pull away from their throat.

You shudder as you cum, your body trembling with a lust still not quite satiated as you slowly, slowly come down. Desire continues to rock your hips slowly back and forth, hooded eyes watching you readjust while the wounds your fangs left behind heal.

You look into their eyes of golden magma, warmed by the passion in them as they regard you dearly. Licking lips still tainted with blood. "More," you sigh. "I want more."

They hold you closer, eager for your lips as they capture them again, shifting forward and forward still until you lay on your back and they hover over you. "Then more, you shall get."

Thrusting into you again, the sensitive aftershocks of your prior orgasm still sparked inside of you as you relished in the drag. The slow pace that had been set didn't last long as you muttered "more, more, more" under your breath. What had been measured thrusts became an impassioned fucking that had you moaning loudly with each snap of their hips.

They watch as the lust and pleasure flit across your face, guiding hair from your forehead and gliding knuckles over your jaw. "Look at you," they purr, staring at your face as they hold your leg over their waist. It's the fourth time those words have come from their mouth, each time holding more and more tenderness than the last. "My sweet girl, my lonely girl." A rough thrust has them groaning, breaking from their praise to take a hitching breath. "My beautiful girl."

"Desire," you sigh. "You're amazing."

Like the praise delights you, Desire lets out a longing sigh, nearly folding at the sound of it. They moan your name, cradling your neck in one hand and holding you close by your hips with the other as they spear you on their cock, eager to get another release out of you and coax themself toward their own. Desire watches a stray tear that had built in your eye slowly slip down your pretty cheek.

"Such a pretty girl," they purr as they stroke your cheek, careful not to wipe away the tear yet as they watch it slip down, down, down. "Look at you, crying for me like the good girl you are. Loving how I fuck you, loving how I make you feel."

They bend down, their tongue darting out to taste the tear. A tiny breath deepens within their chest as they grin. "Mmm," they sigh. "All the loss and the love and the lust. My poor, lonely, pretty girl."

"Pl-please," you stutter, legs shaking around their waist. "Needa cum so bad."

They hum, "Of course you do, my sweet."

You huff, "Please, my Desire."

They love how you speak to them, how you have such power still even as you whimper and whine beneath them. They love your praise and they love your body and they love your cute little face twisted in pleasure like no other that only they could provide you. They love how they can feel your pleasure, feel how much you crave them, feel how much you crave to please them and be pleased by them.

They can't help whispering "such a perfect girl" as they shake their head in disbelief. You moan when their thumb presses once again to your aching clit, quickly turning up the ecstasy again as you grind against their thrusts.

"Fuck," you sigh. "Yes, yes, Desire."

They keep working at your clit, expert fingers gliding over it as they watch you with a wicked grin. Their hips keep pumping as they speak, "Cum for me, baby. Cum, let it go, let it all go for me. Just for me, my precious."

Your heart swells with too much fondness for their words, translating into the physical and emotional pleasure they fuck into your body. You take in a breath too deep when you finally reach the peak of your ecstasy a third time, cumming harder than before as Desire fucks you through it. Rambles fall from your lips, each word less coherent than the last as the euphoria hunts every nerve in your body until each and every one is prey to lust. You watch through dizzy eyes and listen through fuzzy ears as Desire succumbs to the same pleasure.

A deep moan full of hunger is rough at their throat and it roars. Your name taunts their lips when they press themself inside of you, as deep as they'll go as they spill within your clenching cunt, painting your walls white and filling you with warmth and affection. This pulls a second wave out of you toward the end of your orgasm, not as powerful as the last but just as satiating as they gripped your hip and neck to steady themself.

You watch Desire as they cum inside of you, as fascinated as your hazy mind can be as you look over them. They cum like it's the first time, an all-consuming experience they gain from feeding off of your own release. They're loud, nearly shouting to announce their release and sounding almost as needy as you. They calm just enough to allow their body to relax, almost dropping their weight on top of you as your arms wrap around them.

You hadn't realized until now that you were mumbling their name, a repeated prayer on your lips as your body buzzed with the leftover shocks. As they simmer in the tips of your fingers and toes, you lay there under Desire, still wrapped up in them as you take a moment to take them in. You inhale their intoxicating scent—what was a natural perfume meant to attract and allure others with the smell of sex was now a thousand times stronger, mixing in with something that was uniquely them. You bring your arms around them down to make them lay on you, dropping the rest of their weight and sighing under it like a weighted blanket. They give in, accepting the new position for what it is as they slowly come to.

They take your chin between their fingers and smile. "You are amazing," they mutter with too much emotion. Then they kiss you, a light kiss nothing like the ones before that. You relish in it, in its sweetness, in its strange cruelty.

You let them pamper you, slowly pulling out—much to your dismay as you whine at the cold, empty feeling. Their fingers graze your skin and you sigh and lay there and breathe. They call you sweet names and you enjoy the aftercare as they give it with a warm cloth and kisses alike.

As they're finishing, you raise a hand to their cheek, cupping it and easing them back in bed with you, over you. You smooth your thumb over their cheek, biting your bottom lip as you stare. You stare at their golden eyes full of a million desires. You stare at their red lips, still painted like blood and not even a tad smeared as they should be. You stare at their white hair, messy and all the more beautiful along their head and face.

Your thumb strokes their cheek. Lost in your own thoughts, in your own mind, you begin to smile as your heart swells with that same amount of excessive fondness as before. You swallow the lump in your throat and blink away the tears you refuse to acknowledge.

"Desire," you whisper. Too soft.

They hum tentatively, fingers moving so their knuckles graze over your collarbone. You sigh gently, shaking your head even gentler.

"You're beautiful."

They want to say something funny, something quick-witted. But the words freeze on their tongue as they gaze into you and your tear-glazed eyes. They swallow thickly, unsure of why staring so long was beginning to turn fire to an ember in their blood, their tongue mush in their mouth.

"Thank you, lovely."

You both lay there, your bodies slotted together as you enjoy the other's body pressing against your own. Breaking the silence, you murmur, "Did you know it would be you?"

A pause. A slow, silent sigh. A nod. "Yes," they say just as quietly.

You consider that a moment, never tearing your eyes from their face. "Why?"

They take a moment, face as soft as a feather. They lean forward, lips lingering near yours as you stay barely an inch from the other. The tip of their nose brushes yours and your eyes flutter.

They lean a little closer still, turning their head just slightly as your foreheads press together, your eyes closing and your shallow breaths teasing sensitive skin. Their voice washes over you with a type of grief you know all too well.

"We are endless, my dear…but everyone ends."

You sigh, opening your eyes and slowly moving to sit up. Desire pulls you back into their lap in a straddle, holding you there by your backside as you wrap your legs around them. You slot your arms over their shoulders, gazing for another long, quiet moment, and leaning forward for another kiss. Too tender.

Lips brush and press and reciprocate the newfound peace and care that has grown between you in a matter of hours, ignited by a spell made of love. Your fingers gently card through their hair, fiddling with a lock of snow white, even as you pull away and look at them again.

You smile, licking your bottom lip between your teeth and sighing. "Thank you," you murmur, almost as though you were promising the world.

They smile back at you, not as scandalous as they had been before. "Thank you."

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 @thegen3sisark

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine Dream and Desire having a competition over who can make you part of their kingdom.

[Part 2]

[2K Followers 'Clue' Special]

It's 11 AM and your Americano is still hot. You stare at the open Word document. It's just an essay like the thousand others you've written so far. But the page is completely empty no matter what you keep telling yourself. There are still at least 1500 words you need to register.

Focusing on the somewhat vague essay question you had been given, you fail to notice two strangers standing across the street from the cafe you're sitting in. One of them looks like he has just woken up while the other seems to be dressed for an occasion far more formal and exquisite than gossiping on the curb. Pedestrians pass them by without ever paying attention.

Initially, Dream was set on not entertaining Desire in this little sibling rivalry but the competitive relationship they shared got the best of him. Apparently, boredom has power even over the Endless. Now it wasn't a question of "if" but how to bring them down a peg or two.

"Money, power, fatal devotion..." Desire counts. "And what can you give them, dear brother? Saint Jacob's ladder?" they tease.

Neither of them tears their eyes away from you. Perhaps they enjoyed the side or simply wanted to make sure that the other doesn't try anything that could be considered cheating while they look away. Although this butting of heads can't be considered final, the two siblings considered it to be at least crucial in deciding which one of them is actually more powerful and important to humanity.

"They dream of a fairer world, a realm where not riches but ethics are put on the pedestal. I can make them a ruler. The first and last monarch of the entire world."

"Well, then. The game is on, I suppose." Desire announces with a mischievous grin on their face. They're checking their mother-of-pearls cufflinks. "But be prepared to lose."

Dream remains as he was: unkempt hair, pooling coat and hands shoved into pockets. His rigid face brightens, almost curving into a fleeting, elusive smile. "No, I don't think I will."

Still blissfully unaware of the figurative price on your head, you sip on the Americano. 1200 words left.

[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.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

More of my fanfiction if you're so inclined :)

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: The Sandman (comics vs TV show)

Sample Size: 1,301 (comics); 4,048 (TV show)

Source: AO3

NOTE: Do not compare colors between charts

[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 🤣)

[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.

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[teejaystumbles]

The gang at the Oscars - for the new chapter 22 of Fuckboi Dream Was Forced To Experience The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Alive And All He Got Was This Stupid Husband (by Fall Out Boy) by @dancinbutterfly

I had fun with these although drawing clothes isn't really my thing lol! <3

[not-d3ad-y3t]

Stay near and you'll have nothing to fear

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

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

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.

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

Ao3 is @Not_D3ad_Y3t

[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.

[cristalknife]

I usually don't, but this time I will

but also I'm too happy about this story to leave it alone

[dream-of-the-bitchless]

The Price of Knowledge - A Corintheus Fic for A Corinthian Celebration

I'm very happy to present you all with this short piece to honour my favourite boy. Thanks to @mr-sadman for putting together this weekend celebration of the Corinthian. For detailed CWs, check out the AO3 link.

So without further ado, here's my contribution for Day 1 - Truth Serum. Enjoy!

The air tastes like dust and humidity. The guards have long been removed to give him privacy, yet he still paces the outermost chamber of the cell, uncertain. It is only after dawn breaks that the Corinthian mutters “fuck it” and walks past the iron bars that signal the entrance of the makeshift prison, a velvet pouch tightly grasped in his right hand.

He sticks to the shadows despite knowing his presence must’ve been felt hours ago. He strolls around the room, circling the glass sphere as if admiring a particularly intricate art installation, and a part of himself mocks his cowardice for not daring to confront the prisoner during the night. Not like it makes a true difference; it’s always night somewhere. But the knowledge that there’s light outside of that wretched chamber comforts him.

Still, nothing could’ve prepared the Corinthian for locking eyes with his maker after 50 years.

The emotions that swim in Dream’s bottomless pupils are as strong as they are contradictory. There is hope and relief and scepticism and rage. Most of all, there is confusion, but the Corinthian isn’t in a hurry to explain himself.

Instead, he uses the momentary respite from that gaze that he gets when Dream shifts his position to extend his hands towards the top of the glass and iron contraption that holds the Endless. There, the Corinthian feels his way around until he disengages a small hatch. As swiftly as the uncomfortable position allows him, the Corinthian empties the contents of the pouch into the sphere, promptly closing the hatch after he’s done.

A fine powder falls onto the Dreamlord like snow, dissolving in a matter of seconds and leaving no trace of its presence. Dream blinks a few times, but makes no other move. The Corinthian is almost disappointed. Still, he needs to know if it has taken effect on the captive.

“Morning, my Lord,” he croons, a smile parting his lips. Dream merely glances at him from under dark lashes, face tight, carved in marble, and for the first time, the nightmare notices how much thinner his creator looks, how much older and younger at the same time.

Dream’s body is all sharp angles and lithe muscle, the skin unblemished yet muted, almost translucent, allowing a glimpse at the human-like features that lie underneath. A pulse thrums at the neck, and the Corinthian takes a moment to admire the precision and rigour that went into the shaping of the Dreamlord’s personification. After all, his creator is not known for doing things half-heartedly.

A few beats later and the Corinthian composes himself, raising both brows at his maker. “No talking? What, you don’t want me to get you out of here?”

“I am under no delusion that you will aid me,” Dream snarls. “I have felt your presence here before, years ago. It was only after that I was placed in this crystal prison, the runes surrounding me reinforced. I would have to be terribly simple-minded to believe it a coincidence.”

The Corinthian considers the words, prepared to deny them, before ultimately choosing the bold route. “It’s been a while since then, isn’t it? Things could’ve changed—”

“But they didn’t.” Dream’s whole body tenses under his indignation, the sentence a declaration of facts. He turns his head to the side, avoiding the Corinthian’s eyes. “You’ve now seen me at my lowest. Take your fill and leave.”

The last look is almost pleading, and it disarms the Corinthian for a moment. You’re wasting time, dumbass. The effects of the powder won’t last forever, a part of him admonishes and it’s enough to get the nightmare back on track. He needs to focus if he expects to get the answers he’s looking for.

“Oh, I’ll leave alright. After a few questions, that is,” he says, crouching in front of the sphere until he’s eye to eye with his maker.

Understanding flashes in Dream’s eyes, his grave tone a warning in any other circumstance. “What have you done?”

“I’ve merely ensured that I get the full truth this time. No lying allowed.”

The Endless scoffs, humourless. “Attempting to poison me with faerie magic won’t get you what you want, I assure you.”

“This is no fae magic, Dream. And I’ll be the judge of that.” There is wariness in the deep blue gaze that pierces the Corinthian, and he wastes no time cutting to the chase. “What am I to you?”

The resulting words come out in quick succession, as if falling out of the Dreamlord’s mouth of their own volition. “You’re my masterpiece, my greatest creation. The one that has brought me the most joy and the most sorrow.”

“So, you admit that I’m nothing but an object of display, a tool, meant to look pretty and do its job and nothing more?”

“No,” Dream blurts out, and the Corinthian is morbidly fascinated by the mere idea of such a lack of control in his otherwise poised King. “You were never a mere tool, although I have wished to display you.”

The Corinthian arches a brow. “What for?”

“As a testament to my might and to my arrogance.” The Dreamlord gazes down at his hands, which are now trembling slightly, the rim of his eyes becoming red with unshed tears. The Corinthian needs to take a deep breath before continuing.

“The last time we met, in Berlin, you were going to unmake me. What was the plan after that?”

“To punish you for your trespasses. To ensure that you could not hurt any other mortals.”

“How?”

“I did not know, but you needed to be stopped. Unmaking you was paramount to their safety.”

“Were you planning to re-create me?”

“Yes, although I did not know when or in what form.”

“What would you have altered?"

“Ensuring your loyalty would have been paramount for a second iteration of you.”

Hearing that, rage surges inside the Corinthian, prompting him to stand up to his full height. He pounds on the glass with an accusatory finger. “You would have me brainwashed, lobotomised! You would take everything that makes me who I am!”

Dream’s eyes grow wide. “I would have you faithful.”

“You wanted a servant!” the Corinthian reproaches.

“I wanted a companion!”

The breath is punched out of the Corinthian’s lungs, his physical form too used to human gestures by now. Inside his crystal prison, Dream is on his knees, back straight and eyes watery. His expression is of shock, as if this was as much a revelation to him as it was to the Corinthian, and when the words keep coming out, his pupils dart around in alarm, evidencing the involuntary nature of his admittances.

“I longed for someone with a darkness not unlike mine, so that when they were confronted with my own, they wouldn’t leave.”

A huff leaves the Corinthian’s lips, and he shakes his head, disbelieving. “No, you—you wanted someone to order around, to be your guard dog.”

“I did wish for protection stemming from devotion, not from duty. And I hoped that devotion would, in time, transmute into love.”

“Oh, I see. You expected me to love you and worship the very ground you stepped on for absolutely nothing in return.”

Dream snaps his head up, a frown obscuring his face. “I was prepared to give you everything.”

“Another lie!” the Corinthian exclaims, his eye-mouths repeating the accusation. “You had all the time in the universe to prove yourself, and all I could ever aspire to were scraps of your attention when you got bored or others left you.”

“And what about yourself, Corinthian? When has anything been enough for you?”

The Corinthian lets out a humourless laugh. “That’s rich coming from a supposedly endless being. But let’s say I accept that claim. Then whose fault is it that I am the way I am?”

“I have never denied my part in your flaws—"

“No, no,” the Corinthian shakes his head. “You may have admitted that there are issues with the design, but you have not taken responsibility for them. Your only solution is to destroy me, to start from scratch because you fucked up the blueprints while I take the brunt of that fuck-up.”

“There are rules, Corinthian, and you were killing the very beings we’re supposed to serve.”

“You don’t serve anyone but yourself.”

A languid tear falls from the Dreamlord’s right eye. “It pains me to see what you have become.”

“You don’t even know who I am!” The Corinthian slams his fist against one of the iron fixtures holding the sphere, all three sets of teeth bared.

The expression on Dream’s face is one of deep sorrow, one the Corinthian has only seen him sport on three other occasions in their history together, and something in him snaps, all the rage he is feeling transforming into a stinging ache in his chest, the accumulation of eons of resentment, jealousy and pain hitting him all at once.

“You—”

He feels his legs slowly giving way under him, and he lets gravity pull him to the ground, half his body pressed against the glass on his way down until he too is on his knees.

“Did you—” he starts, unable to bring himself to finish, but Dream seems to understand.

“I did. I do.”

His smaller mouths gasp, and the Corinthian has to fight the tears that gather at the corners of them. “You’re lying.”

“You may tell yourself whatever you deem more tolerable, but I believe you have always known this, at your core. I whispered it against every bone of yours as I crafted them—"

“Stop!” the Corinthian screams, stopping short from slamming the glass once more, this time intending to break it.

He’s dropped his head, and his eyes are tightly shut, refusing to behold Dream’s current expression in fear that his resolve might crack under the force of the vulnerability and the tears that no doubt will be there. He made a deal, after all.

Truth is, he’s had that magical powder for years. He received it even before he had instructed Roderick Burgess on how to properly—and permanently—contain Dream of the Endless, thus fulfilling his part of the bargain. And yet, he had been sitting on it for 49 years, unwilling or unable to face his creator in a more equalised playing field.

Truth is, he had laughed when his benefactor warned him that he wouldn’t be able to back out of the deal, regardless of what happened during the confrontation. The Corinthian had laughed because he couldn't fathom anything that might motivate him to free Dream. This was his ultimate victory, his final “fuck you” to his maker and the only way to force Dream to be honest so he would finally say straight to the Corinthian’s face I made you to use you and throw you away. To either be a slave or to not be at all.

And yet, the Corinthian has to fight every grain of sand in his being to be able to stand up and remove himself from that damn glass. As he does, he adjusts his shades, askew after his undignified display. He smooths out his suit jacket, straightens his tie and grits all three sets of his teeth before taking in the sight of Dream once more.

The Dreamlord looks fragile, more naked than ever, and his eyes glint with a spark that the Corinthian cannot decipher. There are tear tracks on his face and his lower lip trembles. However, the tremor doesn’t translate to his voice when he speaks.

“I have not stopped hoping, Corinthian, that you may one day return to me. I recognise my lack of authority to demand anything, yet I wish that, if you take but one thing with you from today’s encounter, it is the knowledge of my undying faith in you,” Dream says, and the next moment, the blue in his eyes turns into the vacuum of space, galaxies forming at the centre of it. It reminds the Corinthian of his birth, of the first thing he saw as life was breathed into him. Then the Dreamlord whispers, “Know this, my nightmare: I will be waiting.”

The Corinthian doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns on his heel, storming out of the chamber as anger and something else rises in his chest, that last sentence echoing in every fibre of his being like a curse, like a prayer, like a dying man’s wish, and all the Corinthian wants is to leave Fawney Rig, never to return.

~*~

Outside, it rains. A lean figure dressed in a burgundy suit awaits on the steps leading to the Burgess’ mansion, and the Corinthian forces his features into an unaffected expression before confronting them.

“Well?” Desire interrogates, a satisfied smile on their lips giving away that they already know the answer.

The Corinthian’s voice comes out too nonchalant to be sincere. “Well, I fulfilled my part of the agreement and you fulfilled yours. There are no more debts between us.”

“C’est fini, then.”

“C’est fini,” the Corinthian drawls the last vowel, extending it for all its worth. When Desire doesn’t speak, the nightmare pulls out a cigarette so as not to have to fill the silence himself.

Golden eyes stare into the distance, taking in the gardens of the Burgess’ state. “And did you find what you were looking for? Learn anything new?”

“More or less,” the Corinthian ponders, suddenly feeling bolder. “I, for one, learnt that there’s very little you wouldn’t do to screw over your brother.”

The golden eyes gleam with a careful rage that seems to always be there, brewing right under the surface. “Oh, please. You are going to lecture me about morality now? I warned you when all of this started. No backing out, no matter what you learnt.”

“And I won’t. Relax.” The Corinthian exhales a puff of smoke, thus covering the sigh of his smaller mouths. “It just never ceases to amaze me how fucked up your kind can be.”

Desire barks out a laugh, their voice dripping condescension. “Corinthian, you misunderstand me and Dream. What you see is the way we communicate.”

The Corinthian raises a brow, internally cursing the moment he got involved with a pack of overly powerful beings who behave like schoolchildren. However, when Desire speaks again, there is a vulnerability in their gaze that the Corinthian had never before been privy to.

“You don’t deserve to know this but I’m still going to tell you. I have tried in the past to do things differently, to approach our familial relationship from a more cordial angle. But Dream is…unreachable. His pride will always stand in the way. So, what am I left with, but the shame, and the rage, and the grief.” They frown, and the Corinthian can almost see all those emotions play out in the amber of their eyes, before they close after an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps that sounds more like something you would understand.”

And the Corinthian can indeed understand that. He could also say something; that he relates to it; that he resents Dream for the same reasons. Instead, he drops the butt of the cigarette to the ground, stomping it with his patent leather shoes.

“I gotta go now,” he says, starting his way down the stone steps.

“I feel for you, in a way—” Desire calls out, making the Corinthian pause, “knowing what you know and not being able to do a single thing about it. Finding out too little, too late. But alas, that’s the nature of desire, isn’t it? It’s no longer fun once you get what you want.”

The Corinthian swallows dryly and resumes walking. And although he cannot see them, he can still feel those golden eyes following him long after he leaves Fawney Rig.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[2K Followers 'Clue' Special]

Imagine Dream and Desire having a competition over who can make you part of their kingdom. - Part 2

[Part 1]

1100 words left.

You're about to read through the 'method' part of the article, when someone sits across from you. A rosy, sweet and spicy aroma hits your nostrils. Surprised and slightly annoyed at the disturbance, you look up.

It's strange. They're strange but not in the wrong way. Blond hair, red suit, heavy jewellery - they look out of place in a small cafe filled with university students drinking vegan chai lattes while swearing at engineering software. The stranger smiles and you doubt you’ve ever seen a more show-stopping person. There’s something unordinary about their features: they’re neither male nor female and yet both of them at the same time; the person across from you has the potential to be whatever you want to be.

"Do I know you?" you ask in a meek voice. Something about attractive people makes others lose their general certainty; their glamour is imposing.

"Most unfortunately, no," the stranger answers in a honeyed, alluring voice.

"Then, uhm, can I help you with something?" You’re nervous, although you’re not exactly sure why. Is it excitement? Fear? A strange, yet delicious concoction of these two?

"Yes, there is something you could help me with, dear.” The stranger leans towards you. “See, I'm not entirely sure I understand why someone like you sits alone in a dull place like this. Don't you think you deserve more, better?"

The suggestion flusters you. Unaware, you nervously rub your hands together. Feeling your cheeks flush, you can’t help but lower your gaze, which glazes over your laptop’s screen.

Then, another thing catches your attention. Your hands are nowhere near the keyboard and yet a sentence is being typed under your work-in-progress essay:

Is this truly what you’re dreaming of?

But then you blink and the message disappears, forever making you unsure whether you did see it. Perhaps it was only your imagination?

You look back up at your conversationalist. Suddenly, you have a gnawing sensation that something about them has changed as though their charm, a magical spell of glamour, has somehow dissipated in the recent seconds. They’re still unimaginably beautiful but not as alluring and charming as you had previously thought.

"Maybe we can get out of here?” they ask.  “I'll buy you a drink and you'll tell me what you desire."

A second ago you would have agreed immediately but now… Now there’s a sense of scepticism inside you like a voice in the back of your head making you question your judgment.

"Actually, I'm a little busy today but tomorrow's alright."

1100 words left. Dream - 1, Desire - 0

______

Tagging interested people: @emarich7 @snowsatsu

[beobhcm]

Fanfic prologue: Is this a dream, or it’s just hallucination?

Summary: After Morpheus's funeral, Desire had a mixed feeling about their brother's death. They attempted to kill him many times since they knew his deepest desire was to be in the sunless land. But deep down, Desire was confused. They hated him, and also felt sorry for him, for what he had been through. Now, he has gone.

Long ago, since Dream had rejected Desire's love, they had created a figure, Hallucination, who looked exactly like him. Then they abandoned their own creation because they knew it wasn't Dream. Hallucination had been waiting for billions of years to get revenge on Desire, and he finally had a chance.

Dream could be something unreal, but it could be beautiful and poetic as it might give you hope in reality.

Prologue:

Hallucination is something unreal, it might appear when your mind lost its control among the reality.

Desire created Hallucination just to fulfill their own desire as they would never receive back Dream's love. They made Hallucination to look like Dream, and they made him desire for them. They were creating a hallucination where Dream loved them, but then they realized everything was just a lie, while the truth always hit them hard. Desire had abandoned Hallucination. They didn't have the courage to uncreate him. They didn't know Hallucination were crazily in love with them due to the amount of desire they put into him, and he would definitely get revenge one day...

I also commisioned this comic from my friend for this fic: https://www.facebook.com/rinz.lizi

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56595925/chapters/143848861

[ineffably-ryuu]

Me, trying to work on my Dreamling Big Bang fic:

Desire, with a steel chair:

[doctorhouse5343]

Let's Go To Bed (Love In The Lab)

Dr. Endlesstein laid in bed, shivering underneath a blanket. How did it end up like this? Well it began when the doctor started to feel really sick, his sinuses were killing him, he was shivering and his muscles were aching. So did he rest that time? Nope. Instead, this brilliant man continued to work around in his lab until he got so dizzy and sick that he had to drag himself to his bed, hoist himself on it, all while trying to not pass out. As if his situation wasn't bad enough, he heard his sibling Desire calling out to him in the hallway "I'm just going to fetch my hair straightener and then we can go..Morpheus, are you even listening?"

Desire frowned as they received nothing but silence "Brother, can you please answer?" They asked as they knocked on the mad doctor's door. Their frown deepened as a groan answered them "That's it, I'm going in to check on you" The door soon opened, the sound of their six-inch-heels filling the air as they got closer to Morpheus' bed "Care to explain what's going on or do I have to throw bread at your head as well?" They asked, crossing their arms as they waited. Their brother lifted up his head, blinking a bit as he groaned "I don't feel well at the moment, dear sibling" A frown, then "Yeah, I can see that but the words I would use would be 'look like you got run over with a steamroller after a day at Coachella'. How long have you been feeling like this?"

The doctor sighed a bit "Since this afternoon, I thought it would past so I did work as per the usual" His reply was met with a look of pure judgement "So instead of resting the minute you felt unwell, you worked yourself to death?" They groaned "Morpheus, you are impossible! Does Hob know about this?" Silence was the answer to their question, Desire then pinched the bridge of their nose "Here's what's going to happen : I'm going to prepare the kettle, I'm going to get you some tea, a cold towel for your head and I'm going to call your husband. This is not up for debate, I am not going to stand by and watch my big brother suffer like that". Soon after the tea was made and the cold towel applied, the blond called Hob to let him know of his husband's state.

Minutes later, Hob frantically got inside the manor, worried sick for his precious hubby "He's in his room" Desire said calmly as they got up from the chair they were sitting on "Thank you for being there for him, it means a lot" The journalist said, earning a smile from their sibling-in-law "Any time, dear Hob...You are a part of the family so it's only fair". After Desire left, Hob began to gently nurse Morpheus back to health with a nice warm bath, helping him get into nice fluffy pajamas (blue with scarf-clad-penguins), giving him some medicine before wrapping him up in a blanket so that he could snuggle up in his arms as they watched a movie. He smiled as his husband buried his face in his chest, kissing the top of his head as he rubbed his back comfortingly. He was planning to stay awake to make sure that his precious love was comfortable, afterall he was his whole world

[kittynannygaming]

[The Sandman] Bound - Epilogue

Title: Bound

Word count: 418

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dreamling, Desunity, Despoe, Hob/Eleanor, Corinthiel, Dream/Past relationships

Rated: T

Warning: NOTHING GRAPHIC BUT Mention of child’s death and adults’ death, mention of suicide, Desire’s scheming

Summary: When you’re 10 (for a human) or the equivalent (for not-human), you’re given (during your sleep) a pet, representation of your soulmate. Thing is, both soulmates need to be born for them to appear. Dream of the Endless thought he didn’t have a soulmate, until a puppy appear near to him while meditating. On Earth, at the same moment, it is the year 1356 and Robert ‘Hob’ Gadling is just born. When he’s 10, he got the poshest, biggest black kitten with a very mean streak. Of course, neither Dream nor Hob see themselves in the other’s pet.

Epilogue: The (many) changes that one little surprise can make.

How having a soulmate and an animal companion changed things for the Endless and Hob.

Things weren’t perfect but they were good.

Let’s begin with Destiny. Everything began with Destiny. 200 years after Dream got out of the fishbowl, his soulmate was born. His companion was a snake-like creature with iridescent scales and 4 eyes the colour of amber named Rainbow. His soulmate (an historian, Mere-phre) was from a planet far from Earth were people could change their gender to adapt to the situation, their companion was a spider named Fatalis.

Death’s soulmate was born a long time ago but they couldn’t met until 2054. Indeed, Death’s soulmate was Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home. Death’s companion was her goldfish, Slim. Hestia’s companion was another goldfish named Wandsworth. The two fishes shared an aquarium and their companions, Death’s home. When Death got home, she felt the tension wash away just because of Hestia’s presence.

Dream, the Morpheus version of him, didn’t die. Daniel was always meant to be his successor but now, they could do things at a quieter pace. It was 10 years after the Corinthian was remade that a companion appeared for both him and Daniel. Corinthian had a ram named Cream Puff and Daniel had a wolf named Hunter.

Destruction’s soulmate was a French preschool teacher named Adelaïde Beaubois. When they met, Adelaïde thought his art was his son’s art. It was very awkward but she invited him to teach painting and colours to the 3 to 4 year’s old kids once a week. They absolutely loved him. It wasn’t long before he got an official contract.

Desire’s soulmate, Unity, lived in the Dreaming, after sacrificing herself instead of her dear Rose. She was close enough to Desire’s realm they can meet often. Sugar, the fox met Peacock, the Dove.

Despair’s soulmate was born the 19th January of the year 1809 and was one of Dream’s protegé. His name was Edgar Allan Poe. Despair was surprised when a baby raven appeared near her but she loved Melancholy. Edgar has a very smart rat named Gloom.

Delirium’s soulmate came from a planet not so different of Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland. She was absolutely smitten with Folly, her white rabbit and Liddell, her soulmate, a metamorph, had a wolpertinger named Hat.

Do you remember that Calliope had a raven has a companion (whose name is Luka)? Well, apparently, it was because she had a Raven (or ex-raven really) as a soulmate. Dear Lucienne, who had a hummingbird named Lyra.

They lived and had adventures and reunions and children. But this is another story.

Ram

Beta: In progress

For @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang

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