wailermoon

He’d thought the conversation had gone well. A simple dinner date, perhaps a night under the stars. Just Nightmare’s time, really, that was all Beau ever wanted. 

But, he supposed he should know better by now. His love was never one to do something casually. He always went all in, meticulously, and was more than happy to leave Beau in the dark. Assuring a simple dinner, as Beau had asked. 

Except, the moment he’d been handed a sleek box and told to change, Beau knew things weren’t going to be straight forward. He couldn’t read the boutique's name - the language didn’t register as familiar in any respect. Something from some far flung AU, for certain. But when Beau delicately pulled out a gown that felt soft and impossibly lavish, he was stunned. It took an embarrassingly long time to grapple with the dress being for him, before he changed into it dutifully at the first call of his beloved through the door: ‘Is everything fitting, my dove?’

Oh, it definitely fit. Perfectly. 

Deep fabric dark as any night, embroidered with light specks like stars that felt less like a gem or a physical decor, and more a warm, subtle buzz of magic trained to center in these spots and remain, no matter how Beau’s fingers ran over them. The magic stars began just at the base of the sternum, spilling off down to the end of the skirt, more sparse and disparate the further down they went. 

It was off-shoulder, deeply so, the neckline below the collarbone and partway down the sternum. Though, Nightmare had also provided a lovely necklace with a black chain, and a deep cyan crescent moon pendant that sat neatly on his chest. The sleeves connected down past the shoulder, and gently hugged his arms, ending at the base of his middle finger, a triangle of fabric over the top of his hands, his palms left bare. Most flustering, however, were the high slits in the sides that reached to his upper thighs… There was certainly enough fabric in the skirt to feel covered, but the wrong moves or postures could expose more than he intended. 

The gown matched his love. Beau noticed it even before he slowly crept through the door to meet him, to shakily take his offered hand that swallowed Beau’s own. 

His lover wore a suit as crisp black as his corruption, hints of bright cyan in his tie, on the trim of the pockets. But it was the black trench coat that sat on his shoulders like a cape that truly connected their looks. The buttons were deep silver, the hue shifting depending on the light. Those same spots of magic glow dotted the outside of that coat like bright spots in an abyss. 

Nightmare appraised his beloved, holding onto his hand, one large thumb stroking the skin. An approving rumble rolled in his chest, his grin thin and relaxed, pleased. 

“Beautiful…” Nightmare lifted his other hand, to trace a single claw along Beau’s jaw, down the throat - oh so slowly that it drew shivers out of him. He couldn’t help but lift his head, neck further exposed - his own eyes too locked onto Nightmare’s face. A mix of apprehension in his little rabbit heart, and awe. Awe for such a titan of a man looking at him with reverence. 

It brought heat to his cheeks and made his voice run and hide somewhere far away. At best, he only got a strangled, quiet sound from his lips -  something between a nervous laugh and a whimper.

Nightmare’s grin widened on one side. His claw reached the pendant. For a moment he just appraised the gem, balancing it on the digit with care. Then, he hooked his claw around the chain and gave a gentle pull. Nightmare took a step forward at the same time, crowding Beau against the wall. 

The gesture earned a soft hitch of breath as Beau pressed his back up against the wall. Eyes blown wide, the shadow of Nightmare cloaked him heavily. Heavy enough to freeze his feet to the spot, hardly daring to breathe out. Nightmare then leaned down, his face drifting down to the side of Beau’s head. He spoke low into Beau’s ear as the shorter man trembled. 

“I nearly regret our reservations. It seems almost a crime for anyone else to behold you but me, little bird.” 

Oh, that made him redden.

“R-reservations?” Beau prodded then. Both to keep himself on track, and to figure out the secrets he’d been keeping. 

Nightmare pressed his teeth to the side of Beau’s throat, just under the ear. And pulled back, letting the necklace fall back onto Beau’s skin. A knowing smile was on his face as he walked down the hall, pulling Beau from his frozen state. 

“Yes. It took some time to find a place worthy. . . but I have my connections, sweet mouse.” 

“Is.. would we go the normal way, or..?” 

“It resides in another AU, I’m afraid.” Nightmare slipped his hand from Beau’s, only to rest it on the small of his back. Though, the span of his hand was far too large – the claws easily curled around to the front. “Stay close, won’t  you?” 

And he did. Beau leaned into the touch, pressing into the larger man’s side without hesitation. When the chill of the shadows and the dark of his magic was all around them, Beau kept his eyes up on the single, cyan light of Nightmare’s eye. An anchor point, a star, that Beau focused on no matter the depths Nightmare took him to. Even as the chill set in, and he felt his stomach lurch with the shift in space-time, it only took Nightmare’s arm tightening around his middle, and the comforting scent of parchment, ink and pine to keep him upright. 

When the shadows had cleared, they were left in a stone paved courtyard; a semi-circle around the entrance of an older, but elegant, two story building. Great arched windows were left open, framed with deep red curtains that gently billowed in the night air. The smell of sea spray hit Beau’s senses. And easily, he found the rolling sea just behind this isolated restaurant. And the way the full moon overhead peeked between thinning clouds and splayed its light across the waves.. Oh, it was pretty.

Beau was hopeful they’d sit somewhere with a good view.

Though, any place would do. So long as he could take the memory of the moonlight hitting Nightmare and lighting him in cool, blueish light and never forget it. 

“It’s really pretty here - where is this?” Beau asked, snapping out of his awe to actually see the bemused look on Nightmare’s face.

“It is a newer AU - a little thing, one I do not even have a proper name for yet,” he admitted and gave a soft cock of his head towards the restaurant. 

Beau blinked, then gave a look between his face and the restaurant. His brows almost furrowed. But then, he moved - eyes wide with a soft ‘o-oh, of course!’ under his breath. The lapse earned a chuckle from Nightmare, growled and quiet, that crept heat right up Beau’s neck to warm his ears. 

“It feels . . .quiet. Are we here really late or something?” Beau asked, noting no line of people at the door. And no sign of tables filled the closer he drew to the windows. A lavish interior with dim, romantic lighting had caught his gaze. Such a place should be swarmed with guests, surely. 

“Not quite, darling.”

He led Beau along, his hand still  on the small of his back. Idly, he traced circles with his thumb over his spine. 

The two arrived at the entrance and were swiftly greeted by a nervously smiling dog monster. Her red hair was pulled back into a cute bun. She was immaculately dressed in a deep blue-violet suit dress. She spoke quickly while her eyes flitted between both Nightmare and Beau. But none of her words really made sense to Beau - he couldn’t even decide if it was a language he’s seen, or heard. Much like the dress box before had been a mystery…

“Soa rei, Se Nightmare. Sasa ae du trecophante?” 

“Yes. It will just be us. This is my darling Beau,” Nightmare replied, fully in a tongue Beau could understand. Despite this, the dog hostess nodded curtly. She held the door open hurriedly for them both. 

“Tomigu! Kehtar su tei soleur, scusei..!” 

Nightmare led Beau along, and his smile only seemed to grow as Beau looked up at him, starting to gape. 

“What– why could she understand you– what is she even saying?” 

“Ah, pardon me. . . Those in this AU seem to speak something closest to perhaps Portuguese or Spanish in your familiarity, but not quite. But my speech translates for all that hear me, when I wish it. So speaking is not a problem.”

“.. And could you help me understand them, too? Is that how that works?”

Nightmare chuckled and gave him a little squeeze on the hip. A moment between steps, he bent down to speak softly, teeth close to his temple. The glow of his cyan eye mingled with the dim lantern and candle light all around them. Beau caught his breath.

“I could, perhaps. But I thought best you had nothing to worry about, or think of. . . You trust me to order for you, pet, I trust?” 

His breath was a chill tickle across his brow. And Beau felt Nightmare’s other clawed hand come forward under his chin, tilting it up a bit. 

His heart thrummed in his chest, and he found himself nodding, stiffly.

When Nightmare let him go all at once, drifting gracefully past, Beau felt far too empty in that moment. At the least, he caught his breath. And watched as Nightmare murmured back and forth with their hostess who’d led them deep into the restaurant. That was very much empty, Beau realized. 

The longer he’d been able to disconnect from Nightmare, the more it was abundantly clear. Every table was pristine and ready for guests that’d never come that night. Across the dining room were doors to the main kitchen, and the only other sounds of life. Dishes and pans gently being moved, rearranged. 

A single bird monster stuck his beak out of the double doors to peek. And paused once he met Beau’s eyes. A sheepish look followed as the bird looked at him curiously. Even more so as Beau managed a gentle smile and a little wave, feeling put on the spot. 

It made sense he would stare. That the bird monster would wonder just who had, apparently, taken the entire restaurant for themselves. 

All of a sudden, the bird monster went still, eyes wide as plates. His feathers ruffled. Then, he ducked back through the doors like life had been scared out of him. Beau only had a moment to blink and ponder that before Nightmare set his claws over Beau’s shoulder suddenly, drawing a squeak from him. 

Whatever the bird monster had seen, Beau only saw the easy going, if far too smug, smile on Nightmare’s skull. 

“Have a seat, little mouse,” he encouraged, lowering his voice and emphasizing ‘mouse’ more than usual. 

Beau did. 

Their booth was a half circle that faced a large, open archway. All the way at the back of the restaurant, their table faced the sea, the moonlight almost perfectly spilling through the arch and highlighting their table. A deep blue tablecloth like the oceans’ depths was soft under his hands, and Beau took a moment to appreciate the set table with a soft smile. 

True to his word, Nightmare did order for the both of them – still in the common tongue for Beau. And each item felt correct, perfect for his cravings. As alien as the language was here, the food had parallels he could understand. 

“Did you really reserve the place just for us..?” Beau hazarded. He’d sat in the middle of the booth with Nightmare looming just beside him. 

“I know your nerves, Beau, and how often crowds can . . . excite them.” He looked down, and snuck his claws over Beau’s thigh, the tips of them slipped under the fabric. A tease. A claim. “I preferred the night be peaceful, so only I might excite you so.”

“R-right! Right, that. . . That makes sense.”

Beau dared not insist against it, not when it was said and done. And in a way it was peaceful to face away from most of the empty chairs and only see the seaside view before them. And with Nightmare looming just at his side, so fully in control of the reins of Beau’s attention it was hardly a contest.

“You know,” he began, voice a rumble as he leaned close. His cyan eye noticeably trailed down the front of Beau’s body, before finding his face again. “This holiday does give me quite a lot of joy so far, my dear.”

His claw lifted from his thigh, and Nightmare wove it deftly around a thick lock of his curled hair. A gentle turn of his wrist winds the hair against the black sheen, the gesture practiced and just noticeable enough that it made Beau shiver in delight. 

“Yeah?” Beau managed. He couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face if he tried. Stars, the way Nightmare looked, dressed for his eyes only, in such a calm space so far from work and the other voices of the castle. . . Just the two of them.

“It is a yearly occurrence that I can dress you, just as I would like to see you. With no room for complaint,” he said, grinning widely. “Though, how to outdo myself with such a strong start..?”

“I might have ideas for you,” Beau offered, heart racing. He managed to place his hand on the man’s chest, feeling the smooth fabric chilled by his love’s natural cold. Vibrations of a pleased chuff were felt rather than heard, and Beau’s hand stilled. “But if the designer you got these from has a catalogue, I need to see it.”

“Perhaps I may acquire it for you. If such things make you look at me the way you do,” Nightmare teased, sparing his free hand to reach for his wine glass. He gave it a swirl, a sip. Then gently pressed it to Beau’s lips. 

It gave Beau pause. However, dutifully, he drank down the sip as the glass was tilted. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Beau managed after clearing his throat. Oh, he was on fire now, eyes downcast. Busying himself with both hands on Nightmare’s chest now. “It’s just a totally normal appreciation of good…good clothes.” 

“Hm… Is that why your eyes forget where my socket is?”

Beau’s gaze snapped up so quick as his back went stiff. He hadn’t realized just how much his eyes had been scouring the man’s chest as his hands roamed, appreciating the undershirt, the fold of the suit lapels, the glossy texture of the tie.. The form under the fabric that was just so nicely filled by him, by all of him.

“Never forget, nope– hello.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the man. He abandoned the hair twirling to instead cup Beau’s face. The disparity in size between his hand and Beau’s face made the gesture far too easy. Claws not quite like ice, but certainly not warm, soaked up the heat of Beau’s blush. Not that the color could be stopped. Not with a handsome laugh like that to make Beau grin in turn.

Their dinner went perfectly. The skittish way their hostess would approach the table and flee once excused made Beau’s heart patter on occasion, his gaze ducked when she was around. Except to insist to Nightmare that he tell her how lovely he found the place, how nice he found the food, the drinks.. Anything to ensure that he was a happy, grateful guest. If that helped her composure at all in the face of Nightmare. 

The food was divine - both his, and Nightmare’s. Who insisted on feeding Beau samples from his own fork, if just for the excuse to cup his dove’s face again. Truly, Nightmare was more focused on the feast for the eyes than on his own meal. 

They talked loosely of Nightmare’s endeavors and plans in the near future. But mostly, they discussed plans for each other. Books that Beau wanted to read that Nightmare had catered into his collection as of late. Films in various AUs that peaked both their interests, ones that didn’t try Nightmare’s patience like the popcorn cinema that Killer or Cross would prefer to be dragged to. 

More and more, Beau found himself forgetting the threat of eyes from the kitchen, or the guilt of occupying the space. Through whatever means Nightmare had done so. 

Instead, he had the evening with Nightmare’s full attention. And with food cooked for him that Beau couldn’t get enough of. Especially when he knew it was a taste that Nightmare also enjoyed. 

He’d have to recreate this at home. But dared not voice that, knowing Nightmare would strong arm recipes from the chefs next. 

Towards the end of the meal, Nightmare turned fully to face Beau. As their plates were cleared, he reached across to scoop Beau up, and drag him onto his lap. One hand rested on a thigh again, the other found his hair to comb through. To tuck behind his ear as Beau let out a few squeaks of - not protest - but startled fluster. 

“If you are not too full by this, I would be honored to take you up to the roof for dessert.” 

“I could do dessert. One to share, maybe,” Beau managed, fighting the waver in his voice. He leaned back into his beloved, changing a look upward. And fighting the urge to lower his head once he saw Nightmare’s face so close. 

“Then we shall go, little mouse… And I would much prefer the privacy it affords us, to close the evening.”  His claws left Beau’s hair to stroke his cheek, and he bent his head down to press teeth to lips. 

Playing with the idea of Harlow unknowingly being the granddaughter of a mortal grandfather, and a Huldra grandmother who's true identity wasn't revealed to Harlow until her apparent passing. Harlow follows the instructions in her grandmother's will, using protections and tools left for her, to venture into the fae realm to inherit her grandmother's old home.

Of course the eventual goal is for her to fall for a skele and turn Fae herself. Her fae form is based heavily off the Rosy Maple Moth <3 Now I just have to figure out which boy is gonna get her.. :'c Indecision ya'll, indecision.

The story of a silly mortal girl testing her luck every time she goes into the Fae Realm, her protections and Wayfinder no doubt to be stolen from her on one of these trips no matter how much her grandmother tried to prepare her for the land of the Fae.

Harlow's always been a bit too blunt, clumsy and well-meaning but unfocused for her own good <3 c:

(Debating a revision in the future if she ends up in the Summer/Spring court instead with a Flower Mantis perhaps, or to lean more into the inherited Huldra qualities.. but for now!<3)