Viva La Vida

Blew Down The Doors To Let Me In

TW: Implications of rape

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Summer. No... maybe autumn. It was slightly too cold for Summer, but perhaps that was simply because of the breeze that flew through the air, ruffling clothes and flipping hair around. It was nice weather, far too nice for a King to be trapped inside his office. Yet there he sat, surrounded by paperwork in the stuffy office. It was far too hot in there, it didn't help that his bones always felt as if they were going to melt, as if the sludge that covered his body was going to melt through the cracked bones beneath it and he would turn into a puddle on the ground. He was used to the heat of the summer after years of suffering through it, but it was still not fun and he wished the winter would return to coat their whole kingdom in a blinding blanket of white.

Nightmare sighed, kicking off his desk and pushing his chair back and kicking his feet up onto his desk. He narrowly avoided kicking the stack papers off the desk and sending them crashing to the ground in a mess that he would dread to pick up and reorganise. Nightmare sighed and shoved the small stack of papers further into the middle of the desk with his foot.

Fuck it was so hot, he hated it, it felt like it was worse than usual. He was sweating, or as close to sweating as he could. The tar covering his body was slowly melting off his body and drenching his clothes with deep black stains. He groaned, standing up and staining the floor as his tentacles and body dripped onto the wood below him, staining it just like he already did with his chair. He carefully peeled the wet, black shirt-that was white when his tailor delivered it to him-off, throwing it in a pile to the side. He left his pants on, but knew the black magic that covered his body would eventually soak into it and he'd eventually have to remove it too and finish up his work while completely naked. He'd have to change and venture down to the dungeons eventually, the cool stone always made the temperature much more bearable down there.

He dropped back down onto the desk, he could feel the 'sweat' that still stained the chair and it made him squirm in the chair a little. It felt disgusting and he hated it, but settled back into his chair uncomfortably, knowing that the quicker he read through and finished with all the papers on his desk the sooner he could find Ink and Killer and drag them all down to the dungeons to spend the night.

They were most likely down at the training grounds. Ink and Dream were probably sharing a meal while they watched Horror, Dust, and Killer all train and spar. They were probably talking with each other happily, perhaps bragging about how strong and attractive each of their lovers were while they watched the sweat drip down their shirtless bodies-because of course they took their shirts off. Nightmare rolled his eyes at the thought of that. They were all so dumb, and of course they would have to take their shirts off, and of course they would summon their ectobodies to 'help them with their magic consumption and make them stronger'-even though in reality they definitely just wanted to show off to their lovers. Dream and Ink wouldn't mind either, they loved ogling at them, practically fucking them with their eyes. They also loved the attention they got after the three of them got a little too... rowdy, and Nightmare was sure that whenever they ran around and sparred shirtless they enjoyed the night they would inevitably be given.

Nightmare sighed as he signed his name on the bottom of the last paper, placing the small stack to the side and leaned back in his chair. He was coated with sweat and he would probably have to bathe before he left to go steal his lovers away before someone got injured or fucked right in the middle of a spar. Nightmare stood up and stretched his arms above his head before he collected the stained shirt and returned to his bed chambers. He threw them out onto the balcony to let it dry and he quickly threw on one of his older shirts and a pair of pants so that he wouldn't care about stains on it. He only wore it when Ink managed to convince him to do something creative and stupidly messy.