I'll Make You Mine

Let's Get This Over With: Ink

(First major content warning I need to put on a chapter: Noncon kissing and noncon-to-dubious consent. It doesn't go any farther than kissing, but if you prefer to skip, it starts at "A black tendril banded his wrist to the paintbrush" and ends with "Eventually, Nightmare pulled away".)

Ink had been in here for less than five minutes and he already wanted to leave.

He was having such a fun time with the others before he remembered about this stupid date. He was winning Never Have I Ever, Cross was losing, and he a cup of amazing hot chocolate he almost finished. At least he had a rubber chicken battle with Epic to look forward to, that was going to be fun, way more fun than this.

Classical music streamed through the air along with the sound of chattering couples. Burning candles lit the room from a few black chandeliers. About three feet between each navy wall stood a curved white pillar. Almost all the velvet booths were full. Ink searched for Nightmare, but he couldn't see the octopus anywhere.

The attendant he followed, a monster named Grillby, didn't speak to him once as he led him through the restaurant. If you only saw his black and white suit vest, you would think he was human. His head and hands of blue fire wrecked the image. Even though his only feature was a pair of square glasses, Grillby looked remorseful. Like he was taking Ink to his funeral. He probably was.

Ink tried to make small talk with his guide. "So, how's business been?"

Silence.

"Fascinating, I'll need to keep that in mind."

Grillby stopped in front of a round silver archway. A matching gray curtain with tiny star designs covered it, hiding whatever was inside. The fire monster peered in, said something, and then turned back to Ink. He drew the curtain open.

The first thing that jumped out to the artist was the massive window at the back of the room. Outertale's tourist-worthy galaxy glittered with stars and planets, glowing purple against black. The other thing was that it was the type of room reserved for parties or gatherings, not like the rest of the place. Besides the size, the room had the same decorations as the previous one, except only one table was being used.

Nightmare sat alone, swirling a glass of red wine and absentmindedly watching the sky. His fancy outfit made Ink feel way underdressed. No, why was he thinking these things? The octopus was the last person he was going to look pretty for. It had to be his aura of hatred and misery making him think this way. While Dream's aura lit up the room with hope and happiness, Nightmare's was the dark mirror. He sensed the artist's bitterness and gave him a smile, which would be welcoming if it was from anyone else. Well . . . yeah no, anyone would be better.

Ink looked over to Grillby for reassurance, but the fire monster disappeared. So much for that. At least he had Broomie. Worst comes to worst, he would need to fight him and make an escape portal. Holding tight to the brush's handle, he walked over to the octopus.

Nightmare looked him over and greeted, "Hello, Ink. You look lovely tonight. How has your day been?"

The artist rolled his eye lights. "What do you want? Twenty gold says it's not friendship." Ink sat in the light gray chair. A glass of pink liquid shimmered in front of him.

"Straight to the point, are we?" Nightmare drank some of his wine. His tendrils curled and shifted behind him. "No, I'm not interested in friendship. I want something more."

Ink raised his guard. He leaned a bit closer to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No need to get so defensive. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble." He gestured around the room. "I invited you here because I have an offer for you. But before I elaborate, you look so tense. How about you try to enjoy yourself?"