#forgedfromblacksand

[mischiefandnightmares]

New follower! forgedfromblacksand

forgedfromblacksand

Pitch walked along the roof tops of a small town, watching his nightmares spread fear to the children. But for the whole night it felt like someone or something was following him, “You know you should really find another hobby, stalking someone is not a healthy activity" the nightmare king snickered as he pet one of his nightmares.

[nixanimus-archive]

monsieur-i-know-a-little, forgedfromblacksand

     "Hmm. Not sure I know what you're talking about."

[semihalfcousin]

He was now out of most of the alcohols he put in his Gargle Blasters.

Was he drunk? Hard to tell. He could still count his fingers, he could still cross his eyes (involuntarily), and he could still walk in a straight line.

Maybe showing hospitality would get them off the ship.

He would try that, and the complete opposite. See which one works better. Like a middle school science experiment.  

[themaharajahmonkey]

forgedfromblacksand has entered the lair

"GET OUT VERMIN! I want nothing to do with your master unless he has something to give!" shadow monkeys come down and holler at the shadows

[littlegirlofwintertime-blog]

forgedfromblacksand has entered the gates

Elsa had been getting ready for bed when she'd seen something out of the corner of her eye. She quickly turned when she did, but seeing nothing she frowned and went back to taking off her gloves for the night. She'd been imagining things, she decided.

[notenoughfearinyou]

@forgedfromblacksand

"I didn't notice you approaching there, do you need something?"

[kozpitchiner]

Pitch's Convalesce

The Nightmare King paced from the furthest reaches of a dark tunnel to the deep core of his lair and then back again to the surface of the Earth to watch as moonbeams cast themselves upon the land each night to find him. It was a long process to calm his rushing thoughts, and it wasn't working. Each step within the catacombs of Earth's darkest depths made the fearlings giddy, their voices hissing in whispers waiting for their master to speak.

As he ventured deeper into his home, Pitch felt the ache of his hidden arm pressurize beneath his cloak, and holding a firm grasp on the injury was not dulling the pulsating torture he felt. Finally, after many nights of excruciatingly slow walking, Pitch finally collapsed in the center of his globe room panting.

Pitch's flesh coloured hand laid out from underneath his cloak now, exposed to the fearlings swarming him. The pale shade that was now visible disgusted Pitch, but he couldn't be bothered to hide the scar any longer. He had to find a way to cure himself of this dreadful wound.

Still, the locket with his daughter's photograph remained entwined within his fingers, the gold chain cooling to his skin.

[motherovernature]

forgedfromblacksand entered the glen

Mother Nature shifted in her hollow, looking out into the clearing by her oak tree. It was night and dark, the tree's blocking the moon and stars. And normally there was no discontent with this.

But tonight something felt off.

Something had slipped in, and she did not like it.