#Fallen’s Writing

[fallenasleepyetagain]

His World...No, His Jacket - Shadilver Fanfic

Prompt: Sharing Clothes

Prompt From: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: Sonic the Hedgehog

Genres: Human AU, sonic lore doesn't change they're just humans, fluff, established relationship, pining, silver is gay and in love, shadow is shadow (meaning gay)

Characters: Silver, Shadow, Sonic (mentioned), Rouge (mentioned), Omega (mentioned), Amy (mentioned), Iblis (mentioned), Dr. Eggman (mentioned), Blaze (mentioned)

CW/TW - Mentions of suicide

Word Count: 3475

It's now on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!

Cold.

It’s really, really, cold.

Of course, Silver normally found the past (err…the present) cold. It was chilly compared to the future - his future - with Iblis and all of the fire and magma. While the first time he travelled back to the past was rather foggy in his mind, he did remember the chill that ran down his spine, the goosebumps that travelled their way up and down his arms and legs. He had gotten used to it though, mostly. The nights were the worst, especially in the mountains or the winter, but he had learned to cope with it. However, heavy rain plus a cold night? Oh, that equaled a wet, soggy, unhappy Silver.

Rain beat down on the flimsy metal roof he’s under, glancing out at the cityscape in front of him. He slumped onto his butt, knees pulled up to his chest. The cement was cold and damp; he hoped he wasn’t going to get sick. It wasn’t below freezing and he was thankful for that, but the cold winds seemed to pass through his boots, chilling him right down to his bones. His hands, which had his yellow and teal bracelets on their wrists, felt the worst. And he shoved them down into his pockets, balled into shaking fists.

Why not find someplace inside? Said his inner thoughts, which often sounded like Blaze chastising him. It wasn’t that simple! He was in unfamiliar territory, with unfamiliar people, and he wasn’t about to force a family to house a stranger for the night, not when he could survive on his own. Spending time outside in the cold wasn’t going to kill him! It was cold, sure, but it wasn’t freezing, and since he was safely underneath a shelter, he wasn’t going to freeze his digits off.

The storm had come suddenly and completely out of left-field. Silver had wanted to spend the night with Amy and the other freedom fighters, but he wasn’t about to fly multiple miles in the rain to do so. It was one night! He would be fine! It wouldn’t be a night he would forget, and he would definitely try and prevent it from happening again. The cold still bit at him, nipping at every available piece of his tan skin – his face and his wrists mostly, and he can’t stop sniffling! He really hoped he wouldn’t catch a cold, but perhaps it was inevitable. The idea was both as exciting as it was annoying; he would’ve never caught a cold in his future, but colds in general were awful!

Or, so he had heard. He’d never had one before (and he is on the verge of breaking his streak!) but others have had colds and they seem terrible.

Silver reaches up and unclasps his ponytail, allowing his white hair to cascade down his head. The clasp that held most of his hair up sat cold in his hand, a few water droplets rolling down the gold and teal metal. It slipped into his pocket nicely, and he put his head into his knees. Putting his hair down helped ever-so slightly. His neck felt far less cold and his ears would begin to warm up.

The space he was in was rather compact, which helped with keeping the wind from hitting him at full force. He couldn’t stand up fully underneath the metal sheet without hitting it (something he was absolutely going to do when the rainstorm was over, he just knew it) but he was taller than the average human. Others could probably stand underneath it fine. With a heavy huff, he put his head into his knees, arms wrapped around them loosely.

Exhaustion weighed down on him, but he wasn’t about to lay down on the damp concrete. It would not only be extremely uncomfortable and cold, but if someone needed help, it would take him a few seconds longer to get to his feet. He knew intimately that sometimes a few seconds is all someone had.

Sleep wouldn’t come easy, but it would come. He’d be able to sleep sitting up, with his face in his knees. His breath would keep his face warm, and keeping himself in a tight ball would limit how much heat was losing. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but if it did the job and got him to sleep, Silver didn’t mind.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Silver perked up at the familiar, monotone voice.

Standing under the sheet of metal was an even more familiar face, his red and black hair teased upwards and his red eyeshadow perfect and sharp, per usual. Silver needed him to teach him how to do his own eyeliner like that. Shadow’s arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes piercing into Silver’s soul.

“I was going to try to sleep.” Silver replied sheepishly, scooting over slightly and patting the cement space next to him.

“You’re sleeping here.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Silver answered it like it was one anyway: “I plan on trying too, yeah. Wanna sit with me?”

“Hmph.” Shadow sat down next to Silver, legs positioned in what Silver had been told was a “butterfly stretch.” He hadn’t ever seen a butterfly up close, so he wasn’t sure if the name was accurate or not, but he still found it impressive. Shadow was nearly touching his groin with his heels, no sign of strain at all. Was there anything Shadow couldn’t do?

“How’d you know I was here?”

“You’re not exactly hard to spot.”

Silver touched his hair, bright white and flushed, fidgeting with it. “Yeah, I…I suppose not.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Huh?” “My question. You didn’t answer it.”

“No, I heard you. What question?”

With a heavy sigh, Shadow rubbed his forehead. Silver was worried for a moment that he would poke himself with his sharp nails.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you? I was trying to-”

“No.”

“...Okay.”

“What the fuck around you doing here?” Shadow said, gesturing in a circle with his hands.

“Oh! I was going to meet up with Amy and the other’s, but I got caught in the rainstorm.”

“You stopped instead of continuing your path.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on meeting up with them until tonight. I’m looking for-”

“This week's Iblis trigger. Yes, I figured.”

“I- That’s not-” Silver groaned, rolling his eyes and putting his nose against his knees.

Shadow wasn’t wrong. Silver wouldn’t deny him that. But it wasn’t like there was some new thing every week! Every time Silver stopped the world from ending, he would come back to a perfect world before watching Iblis emerge from the core of the planet, wiping out everyone and everything he’s ever known. The bastard was slightly different every time, caused by something else, but he was a constant, just like Silver was. One of these days, Silver would destroy the Iblis trigger, and it’d be the last one. He’d be able to go to a future and it’d be alive. He’d have no reason to come back!

He’d have no reason to come back.

“Hey. Silver.”

A soft smack (soft compared to strikes Shadow’s given Silver before) to the back of his head snaps him back to reality and he glances back at Shadow.

“Did you end up finding it?” “The- The trigger? No I…I haven’t yet. It’s not always easy to find, or the most obvious thing. Sometimes, it’s super obvious, like some new robot Eggman’s made that he’s not in full control of. Sometimes, it’s…someone young who is hurting. Who believes that the only way that their pain can be helped is to summon the end of times! Those ones are always the hardest. To find and to deal with. And, sometimes it’s even-”

You.

Silver cuts himself off, coughing into his hand as he glances away from Shadow.

He had seen it more times than he would like. In visions of the future, in person, in writing. It was always so vivid. Bodies sprawled out, the familiar silhouette standing, hunched over and panting. Hair messy but still teased upwards, inhibitor rings gone, discarded. Silver had seen him tear open the plates of the planet with little sweat, exposing the raw magma of the planet for all to see. Then, without fail, Silver would watch him fling himself into the core of the planet. He couldn’t stop him, although he frequently tried.

Shadow wasn’t the Iblis trigger, he knew that much. He was done with blaming his friends for it. There were many times when Silver would end up with a boot to his head from a familiar man, dressed in red and black, telling him to “go back and fix the fuck-up properly this time.” Shadow’s existence didn’t equate to Iblis’ existence, but sometimes actions taken caused Shadow to help break the world enough to allow him to escape. He hadn’t found the correlation yet, if there even was one.

“It’s even what, Silver?”

Silver glances at Shadow, meeting his eyes and- and, did Shadow know that his eyes had specks of brown in them? The color red was often used by evil (Silver always seemed to associate it with Eggman first) but when it came to Shadow, his hair, his clothing, his eyes, Silver couldn’t help but feel the warmth, the strength that came with him. There was something in Shadow’s eyes that Silver couldn’t place, something he found himself getting lost in.

“It’s evennnnn…” Silver gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to come up with something on the spot and almost failing miserably. “Me? Y-Yeah, that’s what I meant. It feels like it’s…me?”

Shadow’s eyes dilated for a moment, his pointed ear twitching slightly. 

Shadow knows he’s lying. He’s going to poke holes in his words, he’s going to make him admit what he’s seen, he’s going to-

“That’s wrong. You do your best to protect your future. If it was you, you would know.” Relief flooded through Silver as Shadow spoke. Even if he picked up the lie, which he likely did, he didn’t press it. It was appreciated. He isn’t sure how he’d go about telling Shadow that he had witnessed his death, more than once. He gives Shadow a smile. Small, but thankful.

“Thanks I…I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing sometimes.”

“I don’t think there’s a universe where you aren’t.” Shadow said bluntly. Despite his monotone voice, Silver could feel its sincerity.

Before he could respond, a gust of cold air shot through the world, a slight drizzle hitting his shoulder, and he shifted away from the edge of the roof he was under. He shivered, pressing his teeth together to stop them from chattering together. It was already cold, the last thing he needed was the wind to make it even worse. Shadow, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected by it. Silver thought that was wildly unfair.

“You’re shivering.”

“It’s cold, Shadow.”

“You’re from a magma-filled future. I don’t think you can properly determine if it’s cold or not.”

“You’re from space! You don’t get to say anything either.” Silver said, rolling his eyes and nudging Shadow with his elbow playfully. Shadow only smirked in response before another wave of cold air blasted through the city. This time, Shadow flinched a little, his eyes squeezing shut as the cold air rushed past them. Silver shook from his toes to his hair, pressing himself into Shadow without meaning to. His face stayed pressed against Shadow’s shoulder for a lot longer than he expected; wasn’t Shadow going to push him off?

It was only after the flurry died down did Shadow remove Silver from him with a simple nudge of his shoulder.

“S-Sorry,” Silver shivered, arms wrapped around his chest. Shadow wasn’t exactly appreciative of sudden touch, and he hoped he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. “It’s just… just so cold.”

“Tch.” Shadow scoffed at him, standing up, a hand placed loosely on his hip. Silver was taller than Shadow by a fair amount, Shadow’s face only barely came up to his shoulder; if he was standing in front of Shadow, he’d have to go on his tiptoes to see over. The idea of Shadow needing to go on his tiptoes to see was hysterical, and he imagined that was the reason why he insisted on being first in everything.

It was time for him to go, or he had gotten tired of Silver’s whining. Both were entirely possible, and it was also possible that Shadow would use both reasonings. He shook his head, shifting on his feet. “You’re pathetic.”

“Thanks- Ouf!”

Insults from Shadow weren’t uncommon. Himself and Sonic were the most likely targets of his degradation, with personalized insults given out to the both of them depending on the situation. Silver was frequently called pathetic (obviously) and naïve; Sonic always seemed to get harsher comments shot at him. Sometimes, Silver felt like Sonic deserved it. (Yes, Shadow! Sonic was an obnoxious fool!)

The first few times he was insulted, it stung, but now Silver understood that it was simply part of Shadow’s love language. He was cruel because he paid attention, because he deemed them important enough to take up space in his mind. Silver would rather be pathetic than nothing in Shadow’s mind.

What was uncommon, if not unheard of, was Shadow sharing anything of his own. And yet, here they were. Shadow’s jacket had been dropped on him, the red and black leather jacket still warm as he pulled it closer around his shoulders. It’s a stunning jacket, vintage too (although Shadow wouldn’t call it vintage…it just was). The main color of it is, unsurprisingly, black, the sleeves have red stripes, and there are other various red accents around the breast and hip pockets. There’s a yellow clasp at the collar, keeping the warmth from leaving at the neck. There was a fluffy hood (although he rarely saw Shadow wearing it) and the golden zipper hidden behind some more fabric. It was high quality, and Silver wasn’t sure he deserved to touch it.

Shadow crouched down as Silver slipped the sleeves onto his arms. He was lankier than Shadow, and the sleeves didn’t fit him perfectly, but they fit him well enough, only exposing a few centimeters of his wrist. Not the biggest of deals. Before Silver could ask what Shadow was doing, Shadow’s hands zipped up the jacket, and buttoned the clasp for him. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and it’s only made worse when Shadow shoves the hood over his head, his hair feeling rather uncomfortable underneath the fabric. Once Shadow let him go, standing up with his hands on his hips, Silver pulled his hair out of the hood. He looked silly, he’s absolutely sure, but having the hair on the inside of the jacket was so insanely uncomfortable.

“Thanks.”

“Hmph.” It’s a dismissive noise, but the smallest of smiles appear on Shadow’s face, and Silver reciprocates it with his own, sunny grin. Shadow looked different without his iconic jacket, nothing but a tight black turtleneck sweater underneath. It already looks warm enough, why he needed the extra warm that his leather jacket provided, Silver would never know. The jacket had slipped over his golden inhibitor rings without issue. Silver had never realized how tight they were, clamped on his wrists right below his biker gloves, allowing those to come off easy. Did it hurt to take them off? Is that why he disliked doing it…?

Questions that never had easy answers. Whatever was going through Shadow’s brain at any given time was a mystery to everyone but himself.

“I’ll be sure to get it back to you.”

“Good.” Shadow nodded, “Don’t let anything happen to it, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Silver rolled his eyes at the threat. Shadow always had some problem with him, jacket or otherwise.

“I’m serious, Silver.”

“I know! I know. I’ll take care of it.” Silver said, holding his hands up in surrender. His fingers played with the fluff on the edge of the hood. It was soft. He glanced up at Shadow and smiled at him. “Promise.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“When the storm is over, where will you be?”

“You know where to find me.”

“N-No? No I don’t?”

Without a word, Shadow smirked at him, hands in pockets, before walking from under the flimsy roof. Despite Silver’s desperate calls for him to elaborate, he kept walking. He approached the end of the building roof, wind causing the belt chains on his belt to clink, his hair swaying slightly. He stepped up onto the edge, hands relaxed in his pockets.

“Shadow?!” Silver shouted just a moment too late as the other took one more step and fell like a rock. Silver struggled to his feet, his head slamming into the metal roof (he knew that would happen, goddamnit!). He saw stars for a moment, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to run towards where Shadow was, stumbling before breaking out into a sprint. The rain hit the back of his hands, chilling the skin, but he didn’t seem to care. He struggled to a stop as he glanced over the side of the building, a wave of psychic energy going through his body as he prepared himself to catch Shadow.

And Shadow was…falling slowly. Weird, considering the height of the building, he was falling slower than the raindrops around him. It was perfectly controlled, and Silver hesitated to grab him. What is…?

Oh.

Suddenly, Silver felt like an idiot. The shoes! He could see the flicker of light from below Shadow’s feet, the jets on the soles slowing his descent. Silver stood up straighter, a large sigh of relief leaving him as he rested his hands on his hips, soon returning them to the pockets on the jacket. He watched as Shadow landed safely on the sidewalk and mounted his, rather iconic, red and black motorcycle.

Shadow glanced up at him, and although he was so far, Silver could feel red-eyes looking at him. Shadow made a gesture: a wave, flipping the bird, a salute; Silver had no idea what he did. He did his best to return whatever favor was shot at him with a wave. The engine revved, and the motorcycle sped off to who knows where. Silver spent a few more seconds than he should’ve staring at where Shadow had disappeared over the horizon. The hood hid his face from the cold, and his reddening cheeks from the rest of the world.

Shadow was so cool.

A gust of wind nearly tumbled Silver over, snapping him back to the present. He shuffled back over to his little area of safety, collapsing back down onto the cold concrete. Shadow’s jacket was keeping him warm. Warmer than he was a few minutes ago, at least. They were holding hands by proxy, with his hands shoved into the jacket’s pockets. Silver snorted at himself, putting his face into the jacket, eyes fluttering shut. One of his legs was propped up onto the other, the tip of his boot just narrowly avoiding being hit by the rain.

A cacophony of smells hit Silver all at once: gunpowder, gasoline, and…coffee? Despite the wild combination, he wasn’t put off by it. Was Shadow a coffee drinker? Maybe he was just in some place that had coffee beans. Rouge wasn’t a coffee drinker, and Omega definitely wasn’t. Who knows. Shadow always seemed to end up in the weirdest of places, so the smell of coffee wasn’t too surprising. The gunpowder and gasoline was easily explained: Shadow’s choice of weapon and his motorcycle.

With his face tucked away in the hood, sleep was supposed to come quickly. He was warm, comfortable, and had something that wasn’t concrete to lay his head against. And yet, one more thing shot him awake. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, and found multiple grains of sand in his palms. What the fuck? Sand??? Silver rolled his eyes, dusting his hands off before tucking them back into the pockets. He wasn’t about to question that right now. There were smaller grains tucked in the corner of the pockets, but he opted to ignore them, hands balled up into fists. He’d find a way to pay Shadow back for this, although he’s not sure what of his dress that Shadow would want. Maybe he could share his hair clamp with Shadow. His hair was long enough for that.

The jacket gave him the warmth he needed to fall asleep.

He hoped that he’d dream of Shadow.

Was that weird??? That might’ve been weird.

Silver couldn’t help it though, he loved the man.

Adored? Admired?

No, those words weren’t right. He was correct the first time.

The rain lulled him to sleep, a soft smile on his face.

[whereserpentswalk]

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

[fraternum-momentum]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓:

♡ Aimée likes to present herself as an 'it' girl at school. She is a known exhibitionist in town, and is rumored that she gets around.

♡ Kleptomaniac. Pickpockets people during work hours and even during encounters. It gives her a little extra cash but she does have multiple jobs. Prefers stealing things rather than actually paying for them. Has been caught before but usually with a little bit of 'persuasion', she's able to get away scot-free.

♡ A sweet talker. (turns out paying attention in English class does have its benefits) She oftentimes tries to get out of a situation by finessing people. Her mouth is probably her best asset, in more ways than one :)

♡ While Aimée doesn't outwardly harass others, she enjoys teasing and messing with them. Silver-tongued, playful and witty, she finds that she enjoys pushing peoples' buttons, and seeing how they react after a measly few words is always a fun time. And if they fall for her somehow, then that's a major plus, breaking hearts is her favorite past time ♡

♡ In private, she is actually meeker than how she shows herself to be. However, she finds comfort in this persona she's created. Everyone knows that you're easy prey if you act shy and show any vulnerability, so she's learned the hard way to always take the first bite.

♡ By being promiscuous herself, it gives her a sense of autonomy in a way. In her mind, if she objectifies herself first, then she's taking away that decision people have over her body.

♡ Her arousal is kept high at all times so she can avoid overthinking, its a way to cope from everything. Sex is a great distraction. It makes her feel good, and all she needs to do is just focus on the what was happening during the moment, and on giving the person she's with pleasure that she's very happy to provide.

♡ Can't find herself to commit to anyone due to her fear of opening herself up to others. Sex is easy. To her, it's simple. And it's something she knows she's good at. Meanwhile, feelings and emotions are messy. It complicates a lot of things. But she can't help but get attached to some people. Whenever she realizes that she's getting too close, she distances herself and quickly moves on to a new person, minimizing the chances of any feelings developing further.

♡ This is where her reputation as a heartbreaker comes from. It's not actually something she actively likes doing, but it's a way for her to get even for what they had done to her.

♡ But no matter how many times she tries to convince herself, deep down, she knows this isn't how she wants to be. She does want to make genuine connection with someone. And despite being surrounded by (mostly unwanted) attention, there's still this lingering sense of loneliness that, no matter what she does, she can't seem to get rid of.

[noxcheshire]

I am sick, dizzy, and can barely think but you know what would be WILD?

If the DC universe was an echo of Danny’s world. What if the continents of their planet shifted enough where Amity is now in New Jersey and had then become Gotham.

And when Danny died underneath the portal a part of his death fractured and imprinted itself into those various worlds. One of them being Gotham, where Danny’s home ironically used to be where Wayne Manor used to be.

So just imagine it, you’re coming back from patrol, grimy, sweaty, and with questionable intentions by dressing as an overgrown bat when suddenly the lights dim. It dims and brings darkness, only enough light to catch the beady marble eyes of the bats you fear.

And then electricity jumps in the middle of the room, flinging itself around like an agitated snake in wide open circles.

Everyone is backing away, some weary, some cursing, some just half way out of their own suit.

And then a child — barely as old as your youngest now, flickers to life before you, screaming and screaming, wailing in pain as the scent of burning flesh mingles into the air. You can see the boy, black hair and blue eyes that underneath the bright light that burns them is causing black to turn white, and blue to turn green.

The electricity crackles and when the boy is about the drop, limp, certainly lifeless, he vanishes as if nothing had ever been there.

But he comes back, he always comes back, in the moment of calm and in the moment of despair, echoing that painful wailing of death.

It’s so wrong.

It’s very, very wrong.

It didn’t even matter anymore why the boy showed up, only that this moment of pain continues to haunt the cave of heroes.

Continuously haunting, even as some whispered apologizes when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as some provided songs of comfort when the boy appeared. Continuously haunting, even as stories of Gotham are told and promises (though uncertain and flimsy at best) are spoken to the wailing boy who always drops fast and disappears just as quickly.

Always, it was the same.

Until one day it wasn’t.

The electricity crackled like it always did. A spark, and then a calamity of light. And the boy would be there, uncurling himself into a tense position as he would wail.

But not this time.

Instead the boy curled himself in the air, calm as can be, almost as if he were sleeping. Even the electricity that they have learned to dance away from was calm, gentle, like ocean waves.

And when the electricity vanished, the boy did not, instead dropping to the floor where Dick was quick to catch him, grunting in preparation of weight only to show alarm at how thin the boy truly was.

On that face that has haunted them all for months is just a boy, sleeping, and scarred. A boy breathing very slow, slower than what they would like, but here in the physical realm with them.

Dick brushed back bangs of black hair, and slowly, ever so slowly, glazed blue eyes stared back.

[inkskinned]

i got my isbn today for the book. 8 months to go. my mom and i were talking about what the next steps are. i was eating trail mix, standing on one foot, phone tucked into my ear.

"yeah," i said. "the problem is that tumblr as a market is like, not something that can be studied." there's this weird wave of nostalgia and affection for this place that came up over me: how lovely we avoid consumerism. okay, it sucks as a creator. but also? keep stickin' it to 'em.

my mother made the sound at the back of her throat that i also make, the one that means i've got an idea. "you should figure out some kind of reward for presale amounts. maybe you give out poems or a mug or a signed book or something. would your followers like that?" my mother is sweet, and kind, and i have no idea how to explain on this website you can buy someone crabs.

i put more m&ms down the hatch. i had to speak through peanuts and almonds. "if it passes 25 thousand i will print the book out in its entirety and eat it live on camera."

"oh god. no, you don't have to do that." she was anguished. "just tell them that you'd love them to read it, and that they've inspired you to write. you got started on that site, and they helped you keep going. raquel, you love these people. the community? you talk all the time about the other writers and artists and whatever else. tell them that you're hoping for their support, they'll come through."

"no," i assured her. i discovered i had dropped an m&m, but an ant had already found it, so it belonged to him now. i will let his little life have a surprise blue treasure in it, too. "i'm gonna fuckin' eat the book."

[frickerdoodle]

Mild act 2 Durge spoilies

My Dark Urge has been vehemently denying any thoughts of bloodlust to their companions and has hiddentheir evil deeds whenever possible (threw a certain body in the river and played dumb about where they went, for example) so imagine my shock when everyone knew about his deep dark secret after the most harrowing night of his life.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME / BECAUSE I EXIST, I EXIST, I EXIST

Franz Kafka Letters to Felice // リリイ・シュシュのすべて All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) dir. 岩井 俊二 Shunji Iwai / Phoebe Bridgers Funeral // Emily Palermo // Ocean Vuong Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong // 堕落天使 Fallen Angels (1995) dir. Wong Kar-wai // Margaret Atwood // Bell Hooks All About Love // @mango-season // Mitski Nobody

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy Birthday to Fallen London; My favourite British people beefing it with bats simulator.

[thevoidstaredback]

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant

Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.

So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.

Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.

Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.

At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.

Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.

Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.

The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.

The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)

Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!

Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!

"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.

Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."

"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."

"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"Excuse me?"

"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.

"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."

"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?

"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.

"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."

"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"

Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."

"Excuses."

"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."

"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."

"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."

"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."

"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."

Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.

The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.

Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."

Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."

Storyboard Part 2

[softmangoes]

how the LIs come

18+

pure!sydney buries his face into your chest, lapping at your nipple with a warm tongue. "you're beautiful," he breathes, eyes filled with adoration as he watches you roll your hips. you take him so well and yet, he is taken by you. when you place your hand around his throat, his eyes widen. "beloved," sydney gasps, clutching you as he fills you with the warmth of his worship.

"wonderful." corrupt!sydney's breath is warm against your ear as he rocks his hips into you. one of his hands is busy stroking you, coaxing breathy moans as you fuck yourself against him. your hand braces against the shelf. there are students milling around in the distance. "i can feel you clenching around me," he whispers, pushing himself in deeper. there's a note of fanaticism to his voice, an obsessiveness in his embrace that threatens to drive you over the edge. it takes all of your strength not to keen. thankfully, his fingers, so soft and smooth, slip into your mouth. "but we wouldn't want the others to know that, do we?"

"so fucking whiney," whitney curses, taking your hair in his fist as he fucks you against the desk. "you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he sinks his teeth into your skin, rakes his nails across your hips as he comes. whitney is selfish, but his marks burn in a way you can't resist. he doesn't wait for you to adjust yourself and pulls up his trousers. you hear him fasten his belt. "better clean yourself up before the break's over."

kylar whines. he can't help it. all week, he's been saving himself for you, palming his groin whenever it got too unbearable, all because he wanted to fill you up once you were back in his arms. "you look so beautiful like this," he gasps against your neck, rutting into you with jerky, desperate thrusts. "you'll, hah, take everything that i can give you, right?"

there's a grumble that builds within eden's throat - part growl, part rolling of thunder as his hips meet yours. "you're mine," he says gruffly, his tongue licking a hot stripe along your neck. the hunter has you pinned. his massive body cages you in while he thrusts, cock twitching inside of you as he smashes his mouth against yours to swallow your moans. when he pulls away, he licks his teeth, admiring your sweat-slicked skin as his release leaks out of you. what a sight he is, your hunter. what a feast you are, his prey. "don't you ever forget that."

"we have to be quiet," robin muffles his moans by pressing his mouth against yours. he's got you in his lap, arms wrapped around your body as he thrusts. just a few minutes ago, he had been playing video games. now, his hands are occupied, sculpting your sides. your back. when you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull, he lets out a needy whine that you silence by taking his lips between your teeth.

ivory wraith hums, a sonorous thrum that vibrates the very marrow of your bones. when his pleasure crests, it is the surge of the current. the coiling of a great and powerful tide that washes over you, drowning you as he swells. "droplet," he sighs, pressing a cold kiss to your temple. the specter's embrace is gentle yet possessive, his caress carrying the promise of adoring you during this lifetime and a thousand more. "may we never part again."

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Thrall - Blue/Nightmare

Media: UTMV/UTAU

Genres: Vampire AU, Human AU, Nightmare’s a real piece of work, dark fic?, “romance”

Characters: King Nightmare, Blue, Killer, Dream (mentioned), Error (mentioned), Science (mentioned), Dust (mentioned)

Pairing(s): Nightmare/Blue

CW/TW: Kidnapping, stabbing, blood, blood drinking, breaking bones, toxic behavior, threats of violence, just...read with caution lol

Word Count: 5450

“Get. Out.” Blue spun around, the knife pointed straight at Nightmare’s chest, right where his heart was. Or, more accurately, where it should be. He would be surprised if Nightmare had a heart in that cold chest of his. Nightmare held his hands up defensively, not yet moving.

“Blue, sweetheart. Let’s put down the knife, yeah?”

“No! Get out of my house and never come back! I’m sick and tired of this. I’m done!” Blue shouted, body trembling as he did so, his glare never faltering. “I’m done being your blood bag, and I’m done feeding into your sadistic nature.”

“Come on now. Let’s not be like that.” Nightmare grabbed onto Blue’s shoulders, pushing him into his side dresser. 

Despite his shaking, Blue held the knife to Nightmare’s chest anyway, ready to stab it into it at a moment's notice. Nightmare’s nostrils flared, Blue’s blood flowing right beneath his skin, practically begging to be drunk from. Even from here he could practically taste it, it’s savory flavor, it’s utter perfection. His tongue ran over his lips as his teal eyes met Blue’s gaze, eyeing him like a plate of freshly cooked meat. Blue shuttered, suddenly acutely aware of his heart pounding in his chest.

“Go away.” It was wavering, more of a plea than an order. 

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t.” The grip on the knife tightened, Nightmare stayed calm, watching every moment carefully. Every twitch and subtle movement was analyzed, studied carefully with precision. Questions flying through both of their minds as Blue’s breath quickened, and as Nightmare didn’t breathe at all. Only adding to Blue’s horror.

Blue swallowed hard, eyes darting back from Nightmare’s hypnotizing eyes to the floor to the knife back to Nightmare. How quickly could he attack, how quickly could he get away? How quickly could Nightmare recover and how quickly could he sink his teeth into his skin?

“I said, get out. Before I make you.”

“We both know you won’t do it.” Nightmare leaned in closer, whispering in Blue’s ear, making him shutter. “You don’t have the heart. You’re too sweet, too kind,” Nightmare smiled, “Now put the knife down, stop this silly little act of rebellion of yours and give me what I want.” Nightmare licked his lips and kissed Blue’s cheek, and moved all the way down to his neck. Blue’s lip quivered and Nightmare nipped gently at his neck. Not biting. Not yet.

“You taste so good, you know.”

“Leave me alone!”

Nightmare sucked on Blue’s neck for a moment, “Mmm…I hope you beg like you did last time. It was adorable.” 

Blue shivered as Nightmare ran his tongue up his neck, “Though, I don’t think you can outdo last time's performance, ‘twas incredible, haha.” Nightmare’s hand squeezed his hip, gently rubbing it with his hand. “But don’t feel required to live up to your, beautifully intoxicating, standards. Your desperation excites me regardless.”

Sobs threatened to come out of Blue as Nightmare continued to play with his neck. Leaving saliva and small hickeys all over, forcing his blood to the surface. His grip on the knife wavered, and he felt like he might drop it. Then, Nightmare let out a low hiss, a signal that he was about to bite. Blue had heard that noise time and time again never connecting the two things up until recently, it was now or never.

Nightmare cried out, in pain? Surprise? Horror? Blue didn’t know. He had shoved that knife so far into Nightmare’s chest, only the handle was outside. It must’ve dug through his organs, and, if Blue was lucky, pierced his spine. He shoved Nightmare out of the way and onto his bed before running out of the room. That should give him enough time to at least get to Error’s house, or at least to some place in public. And maybe, he could get a plane and travel to Dream, who was currently in Transylvania visiting family. Dream could help him, he was strong and his family is so large, no one would allow Nightmare to slip in to get him. He would be safe.

Moving faster than he ever had before, Blue rushed down the stairs, slamming the door to his room behind him. He beelined to the front door, shoving aside his coffee table as he moved; he didn’t have the luxury to walk around furniture. He threw open the door, and carefully prattled down the steps to the sidewalk before sprinting down it, towards the moon. It was still rising, and bright as hell. His mind focused on Error’s apartment building. It was a five minute walk when he wasn’t being chased by a vampiric madman, so getting there should take no time at all.

The street lights flickered as he ran, the moonlight shining down on him. He could see Error’s house from here, he was so close. Then memories flashed as he glanced to his left. There was the same alley he had met Nightmare on the day his life was ruined forever. He took a pause. Nightmare wouldn’t be so cruel to remind him of that night…would he? He stopped running, his heart pounding in his chest. He spun around, no sight of him. Blue didn’t even want to look down the alleyway. He patted himself down, maybe he could come back home and Error could pick him up?

Shit shit shit!

All of his pockets were empty. He left his phone at home. Of course he did. Just his luck. He took a step back, listening. His ears started ringing with silence and the pounding of his blood. His blood…he felt disgusted at the sound of it. That’s exactly what Nightmare was after, exactly what got him into this mess. He glanced at the other side of the street, nothing. Not even an alleyway for him to get jumped. He ran across the street, making sure no cars were coming. Despite his legs screaming at him, he began his sprint again as soon as he reached the other side.

A scream escaped his mouth, and within a moment, his head was slammed into the building next to him. Nightmare had a tight grip around his head, eyes and body shaking with anger. Knife still lodged in his chest, a few drops of his blood oozing out of the wound and onto his bare chest. Nightmare had most of his shirt unbuttoned, only having the bottom two still together, the top part of his chest completely bare. 

“Did you really think you could get away from me?” Nightmare yanked his head back, fingers tightly holding his hair. “Especially after that stunt you pulled?” Nightmare laughed, it was vile and unsettling.

Nightmare shoved Blue into his chest, on the opposite side of the knife, “The mere idea of that is adorable.”

“Are you going to monologue now that you’ve caught me?” Blue hissed out, trying to pull away. Nightmare’s eye twitched, and he slammed his foot down on Blue’s, a large crack ringing out. Blue shrieked, his struggling ceasing immediately.

“Y’know, I don’t mind your spunk, Blue. I don’t mind the sass, and I don’t mind the blatant fucking disobedience. But you know what I do mind?” Nightmare yanked the knife out of his chest, placing it against Blue’s cheek. Despite it being lodged in Nightmare’s chest for at least ten minutes, it was freezing against his cheek, still seeping with vampiric blood. 

“This bullshit. It’s cold, isn’t it? I know you think I'm an unfeeling monster, but it still hurts, you little cunt. You need correction. And now, my dear, you have set up the perfect way to do that.”

“You broke my foot!” Blue shrieked, “Is that not enough for you?!”

“No. I cannot trust that you won’t pull something like this again. You need something…permanent.” Nightmare didn’t stop speaking, not allowing Blue time to comprehend the horror of what he just heard. “I have clearly been far too lenient with you. That is my fault, allowing you to live your life just as you always had been. Do not worry, unlike your foot, this will not hurt a bit.”

“NO!” Blue yelled, pushing himself away from Nightmare. However, he didn’t get all that far, due to the arm gripping his waste. “I don’t want to be like you!”

Nightmare paused, his face falling for just a moment as his eyes narrowed. Blue opened one of his eyes, looking at Nightmare who laughed. Cackling in astonishment. “You naïve fool, I will not be turning you. Your mortal blood is far too valuable at the moment. Maybe someday though, if you bring me enough entertainment.”

“Then wh-”

“You’re clever, obnoxiously so. Do you know what a thrall is, my dear?”

Blue’s eyes widened and his mind was taken off of the throbbing pain in his foot for a moment, “No…No Nightmare please you can’t do this, I don’t-”

The knife was put up to his lips, silencing him, “Shh. Your begging won’t save you this time, and most likely, never again. You fucked it up, and now, I get to make you mine.”

Clearing his throat, Nightmare began to speak, oddly calm. He slipped the knife into his belt, freeing up his other hand. “Now, I know you mortals think of a vampire turning someone into a thrall by taking control of their mind, or whatever. You’re all stupid though, because that’s not how that works. If we could just mind control anyone we wanted, then we wouldn’t need thralls, we wouldn’t need to hide, and we most certainly wouldn’t put up with mortals who think they’re able to take us down.

“Mortals like you, babe!” Nightmare’s finger flicked Blue’s nose, his voice high pitched as he mocked him. Then, without warning, his tone went dark once more. “Blue.”

“What?”

“Define ‘thrall’ for me.”

Swallowing hard, Blue wracked his mind, trying to ignore the pain overwhelming all of his senses. “A thrall is…a noun.”

“Mhm.”

“And it means…being in someone’s power?” He hesitated, glancing up at Nightmare whose face gave him nothing to work with. “In the terms of vampires, it’s a human, usually, who serves a vampire.”

“That’s right. I wonder how you can be so smart, but so utterly stupid at the same time.”

“Wh- Hey!”

“Quiet.” Nightmare hissed, shifting their position so he was leaning against the wall, taking some of the strain off of being forced to hold Blue up. “None of that actually means mind control, now does it?”

“...I guess not, but what does that have to-”

“I can make you my thrall, a handsome thing to serve me, and you’ll be aware of it the whole time. You’ll hate it, but you’ll have no other choice!” Nightmare laughed, voice unhinged as he chuckled, his face burying itself into Blue’s shoulder. “You’ll belong to me, body and soul, and you’ll have no choice but to follow my every word.”

Through gritted teeth, Blue made one last attempt to call Nightmare’s bluff. “Yeah? And how will you go about that?”

With a saccharine smile, Nightmare flashed his sharp teeth at him. “By drinking my blood, of course. A bit of a role reversal, but it’s quite effective.”

“What?! No! I’m not going to-”

“You don’t have a choice there, babe. Drink up.” 

Blue’s face was shoved into the wound, blood going up his nose and into his mouth. He coughed and hacked up Nightmare’s blood, but Nightmare didn’t loosen his grip. Blue shuttered, defeat washing over him. He was going to suffocate if he didn’t do what Nightmare wanted, and despite the fact that death might be the better option here, he wasn’t going to let this bastard kill him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Not now, not ever. Blue swallowed the blood that entered his mouth, as well as apprehensively licking the wound to get more. He gagged, but kept going. Absolutely abhorrent. 

After Nightmare deemed that Blue had taken enough of his blood, he pulled Blue away from his chest, allowing him some time to breathe. Blue was heaving, a drop of blood dripping down his chin. Nightmare wiped the blood with his thumb, smiling as he helped Blue to his feet. Er…foot.

“That should be enough for now.” Nightmare hummed in approval as Blue clung to him. “It would be mean to make you walk all the way back to my castle, wouldn’t it? I don’t think we would make it by daylight if that happened.” Nightmare chuckled, scooping Blue into his arms. The wound in his chest still oozed blood, but he wasn’t in a hurry to deal with it. His body would heal it within a matter of time, maybe in two hours or so. Being a vampire did have its perks, after all. Blue was quivering in his arms, his body shaking, desperate to fix itself. Nightmare felt a slight twinge of regret, not for hurting him, of course, it was well deserved, but for the fact that it would take a few months for his foot to fully heal.

Mortals were so easily damaged and it was so difficult to heal them, he always forgot about that. Perhaps that was for the best. His grin turned twisted, he would have to pay extra attention to the news and social media for the next few days. He wondered how Blue’s friends would react to his disappearance. He wondered how the media would explain it. That was his favorite part, to watch mortals try and explain the supernatural. It was adorable to watch them try. And he especially wondered how that bastard, Dream don Dalezya, would react. It had been so long since he had last stolen a mortal away, he forgot how trilling it was. He had brought humans into the manor before, of course. He wasn’t a newbie at this sort of thing. They’d last a decade, maybe two, before he either killed them or sickness caught up to them. Keeping humans hostage was fun, at first. When the poor things were terrified and still full of hope. Then it got boring. They’d get used to it, used to him. Sometimes they’d even fall in love with him. He didn’t need a mortal’s love. His nose scrunched up at the thought. Besides, hunting and tracking down humans was half of the fun. He’d prefer it to not be a twice a century thing.

None of them had been a thrall. Perhaps this time would be different. Blue was already a fantastic toy. He hadn’t met a lot of mortals before this, but considering he had managed to get the attention of Dream and befriend him, then perhaps he was a little different. Blue never bargained, never tried to offer Nightmare anything to get him to stop. He would only fight back, and when that proved fruitless, he would beg Nightmare to leave him alone. That is what Nightmare adored. He’d also never had a human stab him before. And while it pissed him off, that Blue even thought that he could get away with such a thing, he couldn’t stay mad. Not forever, anyway. Such a bold move from someone mortal? That was something to note. It wasn’t enough for Nightmare to respect Blue, of course. Him? Respect a mortal? He would never allow himself to fall that low. 

Maybe Blue would keep him entertained for longer than a few decades. And maybe…just maybe…Nightmare would curse him with vampirism. Not now, but later. If Blue proved to be astoundingly enthralling (haha, he found himself hilarious), then maybe he would put Blue on the same field as him. Keeping Blue as a mortal kept the power dynamic between him and Nightmare stable. Static. Vampires were inherently stronger, faster, and simply more powerful than humans. Not to mention that Nightmare was tall, muscular, intimidating, and Blue was like a small rabbit, or newborn puppy, to him. Blue could be crushed within a matter of moments. Despite his best attempt to stop Nightmare, he had to rely on stunning him to get away. He was probably hoping that he could get help of some kind, maybe from Dream or his friend…Error? Yes, Error sounded right. Either way, he was prey. And he was acting like it. The power dynamic between him and Nightmare would stay that way unless Nightmare decided to up Blue’s chances.

The forest was getting thicker. The canopy above him was shielding him from the moonlight, which would soon become blazing sunlight. Blue had ceased his whimpering, thank god, and his eyes were squeezed shut, trying to ease his pain. The wind was howling, and Blue shivered in his arms. Nightmare rolled his eyes, nearly rolling them into his own head. He would have to make sure his log supply was decent. His manor wasn’t heated, it was built in the 11th century and he hadn’t bothered to update it to modern technology since his body heat was irrelevant to his survival. Oh, how he loved his manor. It was large, gothic, and had a massive library. What more could a man ask for? His manor wasn’t equipped with much modern technology, but Blue would survive.

Humans these days were so pampered, with their air conditioning and internet and whatever. The only thing Nightmare didn’t mind was the advances in medicine. What was the point in keeping a mortal if the thing got sick and had no choice but to succumb to it?

The forest grew thinner, and Nightmare’s manor soon came into view. It was towering, and Blue opened his eyes briefly to look at it. It was large, probably one of the largest buildings he had ever seen, and had a massive fence around it. The fence had to be over ten feet (or three meters) and was made of a thick metal. It had intricate designs, but not a single pattern large enough for him to fit through. The gate itself had two large spires, and was made of metal and black basalt. It looked to be in incredible condition, even though Blue expected it to be at least somewhat rusted. On the gate, which caused his anxiety to spike, was a massive latch, keeping it locked. It was nothing that he had ever seen before. He squirmed in Nightmare’s grip, trying to get out of his arms. There wasn’t much of a plan, panic was setting in. He didn’t have his phone, he was going to be separated from Error, and Dream, and everyone he loved, and his heart started racing.

Blue couldn’t believe that he had allowed Nightmare to carry him all the way through the forest with little issue. He didn’t get the chance to squirm as Nightmare took him from everything he ever knew. Before he could do anything, he was set down onto his knees as Nightmare approached the gate to unlock it. He shifted onto his good leg, and despite his ever growing despair, he made an attempt to crawl. He wouldn’t get far, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to be a passive player as Nightmare took him. The gates swung open, and Nightmare scooped him up right again. He was slung over Nightmare’s right shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He fought in Nightmare’s arm, trying to free himself. If he could just stay outside till daylight, then maybe he could hobble his way home. The gates slammed behind them, and Blue flinched. He glanced at it, squinting, was it locked?

“It locks by itself, don’t get your hopes up. Unless you feel like climbing up that fence with that poor foot of yours, you won’t get far.” Nightmare opened one of the doors to the manor with his left hand and entered the large building. It was like a castle. Blue pulled his scarf up his face, the manor was even darker on the inside. Dark bricks lined every wall, the ceilings high and towering, with fancy chandeliers draping from them. Along the walls were sconces holding dim, flickering candles. All of the doors were large and wooden, with designs meticulously carved into them. The only sound that Blue could hear was his own breathing, and the sound of Nightmare’s footsteps against the wooden ground. It was quiet. Eerily so.

A shiver sent itself down Blue’s spine, goosebumps appearing up and down his arms and legs. It was cold, both the castle, and Nightmare’s arms. He clutched onto Nightmare’s shirt, burying his face into the cold skin of his chest. The pain came in waves, and Blue felt his foot begin to throb, ache, and burn through his veins like an awful poison.

“It hurts.” Blue croaked, his voice threatening to break.

“I know.” Nightmare murmured. He kept Blue close, his stride never faltering. “I will take care of it.”

The walk to…wherever Nightmare was taking him wasn’t long. Blue kept his eyes open, observing all of the manor that he could. It was beautiful, and he wondered how Nightmare got such a place. As they passed through certain rooms, Blue could’ve sworn he heard the sounds of hushed voices and laughter. There was movement that he caught out of the corner of his eye, and despite the fact he knew better than to believe what he couldn’t truly see, he felt a pit in his stomach grow. Who else was in here? Monsters like Nightmare? Or humans like him?

“You're a cruel bastard, you know that?”

“Is that so?” Nightmare spoke, his voice flat as he adjusted his grip on Blue’s body. “What did I do this time? I haven’t said a word in the last few minutes.”

“Who else are you keeping here?” Blue spat, “I saw- I heard them. How many others are here against their will?”

An exasperated, yet malicious grin grew on Nightmare’s face, a snicker forcing its way out of him. “There are many things about this world that you don’t yet know, Blue. The others, there are four of them, if you’re curious, are not quite human, not quite vampire. When the time is right, I’ll introduce you to them.”

“Why not now?”

“Why? Hah!” Nightmare laughed, pushing open a door with his shoulder, “Because they’ll tear you limb from limb!”

The room that Nightmare had taken him to was a bedroom, but it wasn’t Nightmare’s. Not only were all of the surfaces covered in a fine layer of dust, Nightmare would never allow that in his room, but the furniture in the room itself was much less Victorian, and much more Rococo for Nightmare’s tastes. With a hum, Nightmare carefully adjusted how Blue was sitting in his arms, now carrying him one would a toddler. He approached the bed (that Blue couldn’t see, due to his face being over Nightmare’s shoulder) and sneered.

“Bastards. I give them one job…!” Nightmare muttered to himself, whipping around and gently placing Blue on a chair that was tucked underneath the vanity. It was beautiful, if not for all of the dust coating all of its crevices. Hesitantly, Blue touched the mirror with his finger tips, dust coating his fingers. He coughed, waving away the dust. Hesitantly, he touched his face, leaning in closer to the mirror.

Holy shit.

“I look like a mess…” Blue muttered to himself, pulling at his eyebags and touching his sickly cheeks. Is this what he always looked like after an encounter with Nightmare? He hadn’t gotten his blood sucked this time…was this a result of drinking Nightmare’s blood? His thoughts were cut short as a hand that didn’t exist in the mirror grabbed him by his chin, forcing his face to the left.

“You look utterly ravishing,” Nightmare ran his thumb against Blue’s lips as he cooed to him softly, resisting the urge to run his teeth against his neck. “I’m going to be right back, okay? Don’t be stupid, and if you need anything, just shout.”

With a quick ruffling of Blue’s curly hair, Nightmare exited the room. Blue watched him, his heart pittering against his ribcage. He gripped onto the seat of his chair until his knuckles began to turn white. There was a clawing in his mind and chest, his own brain nearly forcing him up and out of the chair. To his horror, there was a part of his mind that panicked when Nightmare left his vision. There was a legitimate sense of longing, of wanting, the urge to stumble after him, to make sure they weren’t too far apart.

Blue shook his head, physically trying to get rid of the foreign feelings. He twisted his body away from the door, taking slow breaths to try and ease his racing heart. His hands shook as he began to snoop through the drawers, needing anything to distract him. To his disappointment, he found nothing except dust and dead bugs within. He pushed back against the desk to scoot his chair backwards, giving himself room to open the large, middle drawer. IT squealed as he pried it open. The dresser hadn’t been used in what seemed like years.

And…! Nothing.

Disappointment washed over him and he groaned, looking up at the tall ceiling. Even though the drawers proved fruitless, the high ceiling was beautiful. It curved inwards, intricate patterns carved into the brick, and at the very top was a painting of the night sky. He wondered who painted it. Not Nightmare, surely? Whoever it was, was likely dead now, considering how old the mansion was.

“I can’t believe you brought me fresh meat, boss.”

“Stop it.”

With a yelp, Blue lurched backwards in his chair, a stifled shriek coming out of him as he slammed his broken foot onto the bottom of the dresser. He bit down harshly on his lip, tears forcing their way out of his eyes. He glanced up at the person who appeared on his left without a sound, taking in their appearance.

The first thing Blue noticed was their eyes. They were more like eye sockets, being completely and utterly blank, like two blackholes on their face. What Blue could only assume to be dried blood stained their cheeks, rolling down from the corners of their ‘eyes’ and forming beads at the bottom of their face. Blue couldn’t look away from their black eyes, desperately trying to search for pupils.

It was almost hypnotizing.

“Shh, it’s okay. Relax, cariño.” They spoke, leaning in closer, and Blue could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The stranger held his hand, as if he was about to kiss the top of it. He could barely move, his mind whirling and growing foggy. “I’m just going to take a little piece of you, ‘kay?”

“Don’t you-”

“AGH?!”

The moment the hunting knife touched his knuckle, instinct kicked in, and Blue’s fist landed in between the person’s eyes. They shot back, knife clattering to the ground as they staggered backwards, holding onto their face. Blood dribbled from their Greek nose, eyes (eyeholes?) widening in shock. Nightmare cackled, lifting Blue from the chair he was sitting on.

“Cabrón…!” Even through his pain, Blue managed to flip the person off, “Coño.”

“I see that the two of you will get along splendidly.” Nightmare smiled, making sure he supported Blue’s bad leg. “Killer, this is Blue, my newest thrall, and Blue, meet Killer, he is, alas, my right hand man.”

Killer, an uncomfortable name for someone who was just mere inches from his face, picked up the knife, twirling it in his hand. After standing up straight, he slipped his hunting knife back into the sheath on his thigh, eyes narrowed at Blue. His skin was a light brown, and his black hair was asymmetrical and choppy. He wore baggy cargo pants, which were also black, with the sheath on the outside of his right leg. His blue sweatshirt drooped from his shoulders, revealing a compression turtleneck underneath. The hood of it had beige faux fur; it looked soft to the touch.

“A thrall? Been a while since you last had one of those, boss.”

“Yes, I am aware. And since you decided to break his poor foot further, you get the honor of making sure his room is adequately set up! Isn’t that nice?”

“Wh- Hey! Nightmare!” Killer shouted, “Do I look like a janitor to you?!”

“You look like someone who’s going to be utterly fucking walloped if you don’t get to work!” Nightmare called back, sauntering out of the room, keeping Blue close to his chest.

The door slammed behind them, a low growl coming from Nightmare’s throat as he hissed. It was rather quiet as he walked down the hall, Killer’s grumblings slowly consumed by the sound-eating walls of the manor. Blue gasped for air, his breath hitching over and over as he clung to Nightmare, pain searing through his body.

“That bad, huh?”

“I-It hurts.” Blue choked, “Fuck, I can’t-”

“I know.” It was likely his adrenaline-filled brain misconstruing Nightmare’s body language, but he could’ve sworn that Nightmare looked down at him with love, sincerity. That couldn’t be right. “I know.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“So you’ve said.”

“This is your fault. Make it stop.” He croaked, his trembling hands feeling the folds of his scarf for a moment of comfort.

“Rest assured, I will.”

Sharp teeth punctured Blue’s neck, his scream lost in the labyrinth that was the manor’s hallways. Not much would be taken, despite Nightmare’s thirst. He had yet to get what he initially came for: Blue’s delectable blood. Blood was blood, no matter who it came from. However, Nightmare did have his preferences. The taste of Blue’s skin intermingling with the metallic liquid, his arms being able to wrap around his waist to hold him close, his pretty cries when teeth sunk into him all made Blue the perfect meal. After all, the actual taste was only half of what made a meal good. Presentation was, arguably, more important. And, oh, did Blue present.

With a desperate gasp, Nightmare released Blue’s neck, blood dribbling down his chin, the two piercing wounds bubbling up slightly. His tongue pressed against them, an ecstasy-filled shiver tearing up his spine.

Like fucking ambrosia.

It had been too much for Blue’s brain to handle, finally deciding to shut down, leaving him unconscious in Nightmare’s arms. For the first time in a few hours, he looked at peace, his head rolled into Nightmare’s arm, and hands neatly placed on his chest. Nightmare didn’t, couldn’t look away, a foreign feeling of fondness flowing through him. His lips connected with Blue’s forehead, leaving a rather blood kiss mark behind.

Cute.

Nightmare began to walk once more, towards his own bedroom this time. He had wanted Blue to settle in a place apart from him. Can’t have the mortal thinking he was too special, now could he? He wasn’t going to force Blue in a room that was covered in dust and who knows what else. He swore that he assigned someone to have an extra room clean at all times, but perhaps he didn’t give that command. …Or he did, and someone ignored it. There would be hell to pay if that was the case.

It’d be easier to care for Blue if they were staying in the same room, though, so Nightmare would let it slide. This time.

Nightmare’s face pulled into a sneer. Blue’s foot had only gotten worse from his initial break, and Nightmare no longer had any idea the state of the bones in his ankle. The last thing he wanted was to set the bones incorrectly, and have them heal in a way that would make Blue’s life a living Hell. That was his job!

That meant he’d have to call up the doctor, whose actual name Nightmare didn’t know, referring to him only as “the doctor” or, when he was feeling more casual, “Sci.” He’d contact the doctor using his phone, which everyone called “old-fashioned” (Dust got a hearty smack for that comment). It wasn’t his fault that phones had simply gone downhill in quality since the rotary phone! Sci would come over and fix Blue right up, likely better than Nightmare would. His area of expertise was blood, not bones.

Immediately, Nightmare relaxed when he entered his room, the non-crypt one, of course. He set Blue down on his massive bed, which rarely went used, and Blue turned onto his side, getting comfortable on the fluffy blankets. His hand ran through his curls, the other mindlessly touching where the knife had been pressed into his chest.

He couldn’t even be mad anymore.

To have Blue, to have Blue be his, was so incredibly worth it.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to get the creature to come to you. Like to give them a little gift of some sort.

[becca-e-barnes]

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

[snail-noodle]

"my my my... what do we have here?"

you shivered in fear at the gigantic being before you. you and your cookie friends had tried your best to seal the rift in the tree with white lily cookie. however, your actions proved pointless. white lily cookie's powers were still too weak and your time had run out. you all watched in horror at the towering cookie grinning down from above.

"it's been so long since we've seen new faces! we were starting to get bored being by ourselves in here..." shadow milk cookie smirked as he took a look at each cookie standing before him. when his eyes had reached you, his gaze stayed far more longer on you than the others. you trembled from his piercing stare, a small whimper escaping from your lips as you backed away and hid yourself behind pure vanilla cookie.

shadow milk cookie chortled at the pathetic display. "Oh, how I have missed the faces of fear from you cookies! Never gets old!" now that the rift had opened big enough for him to pass through, shadow milk cookie stepped out of the silver tree that had kept him and the others imprisoned for so long. the smaller cookies screamed in terror as they scrambled to get out of his way. every footstep he took practically shook the earthbread beneath their feet.

"pure vanilla cookie!" fear clouded your mind as you tugged your leader's arm in desperation. "what are we going to do?!" anxiety gripped your heart when he hesitated to think of a solution. one of the most powerful beings in all of cookiekind has just been unleashed and is ready to bring chaos to the world once more. just how on earthbread will any cookie be able to stop such beasts?

before pure vanilla cookie could even think of an answer, you cried out in alarm as you were suddenly lifted into the air. the other cookies screamed your name as you watched their forms grow smaller and smaller. you gasped as you were face to face with the grinning jester.

"what a cute little cookie you are." he eagerly examined you as if he were a child that had been given a new toy, turning you this way and that. "it's been ages since i had a little pet to dote on. you'll make a fine addition to my collection!" your mind raced as you tried to understand what you have just heard. a collection? a pet to dote on? what on-?!

your thoughts were interrupted as you heard a snap of... fingers? confused, you found yourself locked inside some sort of bird cage; the bars were thick enough to keep you from escaping. shadow milk cookie cooed as he watched you attempt to break free. "no-!" you tugged and pulled at the bars keeping you in.

"no! y-you can't keep me in here! Please!" you cried out to him in desperation. shadow milk cookie only giggled and shook his head, "ah, ah, ah! you're staying right by my side, my little cookie." you shuddered in fear as he began to summon his powers once more. shadows seeped out from your surroundings and from his body. multiple cold blue eyes stared at you and the cookies still down below.

"now, my dear..." with a clap of his hands, monsters of every kind stepped out from the shadows, ready to obey their master. with a manic grin, shadow milk cookie spread his arms out in grandeur to the cookies below. with a perfect view from above, you could only watch in horror as your friends were surrounded at every side by monsters of different sizes.

"let the show begin!"

[neetily]

You're handed a flyer in the school hallway on the way to class. You flip it over to take a good look at the contents.

In big and bold letters, it reads: ALL ARE WELCOME TO THE OXFORD STREET SCHOOL HOST CLUB!!! TOYS AND FUN FOR FREE!!!

"We even got PC Piper to join the club! It's a special event day!" Robin smiles at you, hoping to entice you into visiting.

(1) Visit the Host Club | ++ Lust (2) Pocket the flyer (3) Trash the flyer | + Defiance

click below for an alternative version + the reference image!

here's a version that they all drew on! i UNDERSTAND that whitney would likely draw a dick and devil horns and a moustache over everyone if he was handed a pen, so my PC drew a flower for him instead </3..... and below is the ref image <3