Chapter Text
By the docks of Port Townsend lives Desire's cat. He started out with a beautiful tortoise-shell coat, through folly his sleek colors turned orange, and, after long hours spent grooming his coat,a witch kills him just to let off a bit of steam. Now his coat is black as midnight.
The local fisherman are starting to take note of a sleek black cat, eyes yellow as the moon as it wails into the night into the earliest hours of the morning. Crying out from a broken heart he gave himself.
The Cat King sits upon his wooden box throne, a navy blue fuzzy shawl is thrown haphazardly over it as he lounges across it. To the naked eye, he basks in the glory of simply existing, but just underneath the surface his heart pounds uncomfortably against his skin. A mild torment to be so close to winning over that poor Edwardian Era ghostly detective, only for him to slip away from any more advancements.
He'd tried, had he not? Going out of his way to tell Edwin about that witch's crow, only to be left without a lick of favor from his favorite ghost. His redemption was short-lived with a presentation of lilies. Thomas thought his plan was almost ingenious, as to cats, lilies are deadly. White lilies represent purity and rebirth, surely Edwin had vast knowledge of flowers tucked neatly away in his notebook. To know what Thomas wanted to convey without words, how important, how special he’d slowly become to him. For all his efforts, he was rewarded with a kiss, a final adieu before Edwin walked away, leaving Port Townsend behind, leaving him behind.
Now, Edwin was back in London, solving cases with the demon ex stalking psychic ( had that been resolved? Actually, scratch that he didn't care) and his brute companion. What was his name? Chris? Chuck? Ugh. So hard to keep up with names these days...
He mulls over his failings, wondering exactly where he went wrong. He was forward with his advances but hardly evil. He'd presented Edwin with option after option and yet each time Edwin refused outright. It was a bitter defeat to come to the realization he'd fallen for his own entrapment.
Thomas broods on his wooden throne, hoping this town would provide him with a new muse to distract him from the past.
"My poor dearest kitten, don't think I've ever seen you so glum." Desire's voice echoes throughout his warehouse.
Thomas rises in an instant, in a puff of smoke he's in a bespoken black suit, a large fluffy mob boss jacket thrown over the top, hair slicked back in a waved pattern. He looks behind himself first, feline eyes wide as he finds nothing.
Desire smiles, cocking their head. Their little kitten has been sulking for far too long. As his cat turns to see them, he jumps in fear.
"My Lord.” Thomas bows low and deep before rising, “Haven't seen you in...." Thomas searches his brain, but it's been well over three hundred years since he last saw the Endless. "Forever," he lands on with a cautious smile. Unsure as to why he’s so nervous he hops down from his throne. Closing the distance between them, he bends down on one knee and kisses the outstretched hand waiting for him.
Desire hums, musing over their creation for a moment. “A little birdy told me you're crying at night over some young ghost?”
Thomas' heart stalls for a split second. He’d heard through the grapevine that Endless Dream had recently employed a crow. Surely it wasn’t Monty? Monty was alive, feeding information to Desire. He couldn’t believe it, why had his Lord taken any interest in Monty. It couldn’t be, Desire wanted very little to do with Dream besides his own destruction. Maybe his news was old.
As the seconds grow old, a hand curls into his hair, drawing his eyeline upwards towards matching feline eyes. Thomas' breath catches at their beauty.
"I'll move on." Thomas says with a huff of self-deprecating laughter.
The room spins as he's tossed across the room, crashing into his throne. Desire is upon him in an instant, sinking down on top of him in the carnage of his broken throne. Snake-like Desire slithers downwards, boxing him in as blood red nails dig painfully into his chin. "I can't recall the last time my creations were ever so pitifully cock-blocked before," his smile is sharp, eyes predatory. "I'm disappointed in you Thomas." The nails dig into his skin uncomfortably; the dark part of his mind draws to the quick conclusion he's about to lose another life.
Desire captures his mouth, a searing kiss that's more pain than pleasure. "How dare you quell your desire for that ghostly aberration," he bites into Thomas' lip who bucks out in pain as it splits underneath the Endless’ teeth. "I want you to seek him out, seek out your desires, or have you forgotten how my little kitten?" Desire drags their finger through the liquid red dribbling down Thomas' busted lip, bringing it up to his mouth. The Cat King obediently opens as the sharp tang of blood fills his mouth. Desires nail digs into the tender flesh of Thomas' tongue. Another flash of pain and Thomas plays Desires game, taking the finger deeper until he reaches the knuckle. Desire roars out in laughter, head thrown back in joy. Thomas swallows around Desire, blood trickles down his throat.
“Now,” Desire says curiously, “I do think you’ve forgotten why I created you,” The finger curls dangerously within his open mouth, nail digging into the tongue once more, this time digging viciously into the flesh, carving into it. Thomas’ eyes sprout with tears as he writhes, screaming around the blood building in his mouth as a single manicured hand keeps him in place. Desire works slowly, knowing their creation can take the pain, carving a neat little rune into their kitten's tongue. They pull their bloodied finger from Thomas’s mouth and into their own, tasting the bitterness of pain and pleasure mingling together.
Desire rises, lithe and nimble, dusting themselves off. "Thomas, my dearest little feline, go seek your prey before I get angry and do something you really won't like. My sister has taken an interest in your little Edwin Payne. It would be a shame, don't you think, to know your feelings couldn't be acted upon before my sister drags him into eternal despair?" Desire hums, watching Thomas shake his head. “Good my kitten!” They clap happily. “Now! Something might be a little different for you going forward, but if you perform well, you’ll get them back. Caio Thomas~” winking, Desire of the Endless disappears into a brilliant array of white smoke that smells mildly of roses and the copper tang of blood.
Thomas groans, rubbing tenderly at his jaw. He can’t remember the last time he felt sore like this.
He snaps his fingers to fix his throne.
Nothing happens.