Nightmare x Blue Oneshots

Leather

CW/TW - tentacle description, mentions of torture/sadism

human/fantasy/medieval AU :3

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Blue wished that whenever the king needed someone at his castle, that he would send a letter, instead of his best men.

To have the king's personal guardsmen standing at the door of your shop was utterly terrifying.

You never knew the reason as to why the king needed you until you were on your knees in front of his throne, his cold eyes looking down on you like a god judging a sinner.

When Blue was taken from his shop, he should've known better. He should've been cooperative, walked with the three men with his head held high.

Instinct got the better of him, unfortunately. Panic surged through him and he fought. He was dragged out of his shop kicking and screaming, tossed over the largest one's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Despite his best attempts at breaking free, the guards paid little mind to his outburst, one the others telling him to, and quote, "Quit his tantrum."

Once they reached the front of the castle, Blue was finally placed back on his feet, having finally given up on his struggle. He was escorted through the castle, and a dread crept up into his stomach.

Why was the king requesting him? Was he in trouble?

God, he hoped not. He'd heard stories of those who managed to survive the torturous penance process, as the king wasn't one for jail time. His policy was simple: once found guilty, a criminal would suffer appropriately for their crime.

The king believed that punishment was more effective than simply rotting around for a few years in a jail cell, and the kingdom's crime rate had proved its efficiency. Although, it was the king who decided what the punishment was, and for how long the criminal had to endure it.

Horror stories were popular in the lower, darker side of the kingdom.

Purely and utterly sadistic, was how the king was described.

Sometimes, Blue had heard from old prisoners, if the king found enjoyment in your screams or cries for mercy, he'd extend their sentence, just to allow them to suffer. One of the things that stayed consistent between accounts was that the king, for one reason or another, was seen constantly in the dungeon.

Depending on the storyteller, he'd be there to either instruct his men on their next tasks, to gloat, or to even inflict suffering on to his prisoners.

Rumors about the king were everywhere, and Blue prayed for his own safety that they were just that: rumors.

Before the doors to the throne room opened, Blue was stopped by one of the guardsmen. The man had pure black eyes, likely from his heritage, drow, perhaps, and scars that appeared like tears running down his cheeks. His hair was shaggy and black. He grinned at Blue, which only made him more uncomfortable.

"Just be honest 'n the boss won't do anything to you."

With that, Blue was shoved into the throne room, the doors slamming behind him. The room was massive, more like a judgment hall than a mere throne room.

Large pillars of some dark stone lined the walls, intricate stained glass windows were in the walls between them. Blue knew the guy who did them, a sweetheart and a creative genius.

On the floor was a teal and black carpet, likely handwoven, and almost felt bad for walking on it, considering its beauty. As he walked, his eyes slowly trailed up to the throne, and the man sitting on it.