#delftmare

i have one braincell right now and it was used entirely to draw this

delft // @kursed-pixels

context: the “voices” was everyone in KP’s server yelling at him about his BLATANT OBVIOUS CRUSH ON NIGHTMARE and the bastard couldnt handle it 😔

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Soft footsteps echoed through the halls, their owner light and easy, a hard feat considering the boots he wore. The halls were dim, but that was to be expected. The harbinger of negativity couldn't have a brightly lit castle! The idea was absurd.

Delft sighed to himself, his cheeks still burning. The voices had gotten to him more than he ever wanted to admit, and he'd ended up running away from them. The castle air was cold, though. It helped.

He passed by another hall, the sounds of an argument between Dust and Killer reaching him. One of them had some kind of grudge against the other. Delft wasn't sure, nor did he particularly care at the moment.

He needed to go clear his head before he gave his report to Nightmare. Before the voices came, he'd gotten some fairly accurate intel for his mission. But then the voices showed up, put those thoughts in his head, forcing them to the forefront of his mind. A life with Nightmare. Kissing Nightmare, even going as far as... that, with Nightmare.

More heat surged into his cheeks, and he stopped for a moment, trying to still his heartbeat. No positive emotions, or whatever hell these were. It wouldn't do to hold a positive emotion in front of the bringer of negativity.

"Delft."

At the voice, he stiffened up, forcing his face into a neutral look. But the feelings inside him persisted, no matter how he pushed them down.

"Boss," he greeted, turning around. Nightmare looked him up and down, and despite himself, heat rushed to his cheeks. He desperately tried to stuff it back down.

"You're back," Nightmare noted, stepping closer with the familiar cold look he always had on his face. "Report."

"A-ah, yes sir."

As he rattled off the various pieces of information he'd managed to gather, he tried not to look at Nightmare, knowing that his traitorous mind would force thoughts of Nightmare against him, what it would be like-

"Delft, look at me."

Delft looked up, and more heat flooded to his face at just how close Nightmare was standing. A hand lifted his chin, and Nightmare turned his head this way and that.

Delft's thoughts were racing. What was happening?

Nightmare leaned in closer, and Delft might have combusted on the spot. Why was he so close? What was he doing?

Nightmare's eye was narrowed as it stared into his, but there was something Delft couldn't place in it. Some thought he knew was there, or perhaps he simply didn't want to try and place it, for fear of what it was.

"Thank you for your report," Nightmare murmured, and Delft could almost feel his jaw begin to tremble. Nightmare leaned back, and relief welled up in Delft's chest. Or was it longing? "You're free to go. I'll let you know if I need anything else from you today."

Nightmare pulled his hand away, and Delft gave a short nod, waiting until Nightmare had walked away to leave the hall.

Safely in his room, Delft sunk to the floor, leaning back against the door. He brought his hands up to his face, peering mutedly through his fingers down at the ground.

Those stupid voices nearly made him fuck up in front of Nightmare, and Delft was certain for a moment that he had. But then Nightmare pulled away from him, and his heart thudded in his chest, and just what was happening?