Silverfangs | An II Silverspoon horror AU

Make me Impressed

The metallic object turned his focus up, still with deadpanned and numb eyes and settled on a clearly worried Soap in front of him. Her posture made her seem taller at the moment, a hand almost used as a shield considering she was facing a spoon with a scalpel who had just stabbed his own arm. Her eyes shook slightly, probably at the sight of more blood, mainly some near his mouth.

"Silverspoon!" She yelped again, taking charge and grabbed the sharp item from him and scuffled backwards a few steps as if she was scared of him. "What happened? What were you thinking?!"

Silverspoon knew his eyes glossed over in a monotone style when he leaned his head up to stare at her. "Nothing, just wanted to check,"

The soap-bottle let her free hand shake a bit before being able to breathe deeply and repress her fear, placing the bloody scalpel onto a tray before coming back and sitting on the bed with the numb spoon.

"You took a nasty hit in the head, dear," She sounded quite hushed, seemingly trying to make everything seem alright so the spoon wouldn't pipe off at her. "A-and you got a pretty bad scar on your head, we can't fix it,"

Silver let his not-scarred arm touch his head wound, the taste of metallic liquid still burned his taste buds. "I know, I would be surprised if you could,"

Unsure if that was supposed to be snarky or joking, the mother-like girl chuckled softly before grabbing his punctured arm. "Here I'll patch thi-"

Before she could finish, Silver ripped her away from his hurt arm in a much more... aggressive tone than he had ever done, leaving the bottle a bit spooked. "It's fine, I can patch it myself,"

"O-oh--kay then," Soap dragged on her words, quickly stepping to a cabinet and picking something out and bringing it over to the spoon. "I don't want to bother you by keeping you so... here's a bunch of things you'll need just in case..."

The silverware looked into the small basket and picked with a hand, laying inside were at least two rolls of medical bandage, a packet of painkillers, hand sanitizer, a few ointments and a nail-file. Most of these made sense other than the nail file, yet he was somewhat grateful to the annoying bottle of soap.

Silver forced a small smile while getting to his feet, wobbling a bit from being out for at least an hour before stabilising. "Thank you, Soap,"

And with that, the piece of broken silverware left the office and began walking around the hotel, mainly trying to go back to his room but also getting used to the slight crack in his vision. Silver couldn't help but notice the stares and looks he got from guests, mainly from one who had no idea what had happened and just saw Silverspoon all cracked.

It being embarrassing was such an understatement to the utensil, but he never said anything, expressed anything, just blankly stared and walked. That was until he passed by a certain area of the main floor, where the four-sided friend group of the bright lights chilled, mainly when Paintbrush took notice of a hobbling Silverspoon walking by.

"Silver! Where in the name of-" Paintbrush had interrupted their place in the group by walking closer and speaking to the spoon, before pausing when the cracked spoon turned to them, showing the rest of his now broken face. "-Oh good lord!"

Paintbrush seemed flustered after basically telling the guy he was ugly so they stumbled over their words as they tried correcting what they said. "It's not bad! Just... how???"

Something about the brush made the utensil's head pulse with at least some kind of emotion, letting him express just a bit.

"Yeesh, I know it's bad but not /that/ bad," Silverspoon turned completely, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, careful with the square basket. "Eh, Trophy threw Candle's witch thing at me,"

The enby seemed a bit annoyed by the mention of who had done it. "It's always Mr. Hotshot. What is his deal??"

Silver chuckled slightly; around this person, he felt somewhat more alive. "At this point I'm gonna blame Candle's magic,"

"But hey, now you got a sick scar! It really isn't that bad," Paintbrush finished, looking at the spoon with this... look... It wasn't a pity like the guest he'd passed but it was an honest look of happiness. Although it changed when they realised their friends were moving, nudging the royal spoon in the arm. "I'll see you around Silver,"

With that, they skipped off back to their friends and left Silver dazed. It wasn't an attraction, he knew that for certain, but there was an urge of protectiveness that surged over the enby. Painty was a great person. No one should hurt them.

The princely silverware shook his head, continuing to walk towards the elevator, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't get over the taste of blood, the feeling of pain shiving down his spine and the sight of watching his dark blood spill from the wound on his arm. Silver couldn't feel the temperature, nor much of anything anymore, yet those sensations and what had just washed over stood boldly in his head.

He craved it. He needed it.

He craved being near Paintbrush, he needed to watch himself or someone get hurt, he needed the blood, he needed the taste. And it scared him. Silverspoon felt his knees quiver as he was let out of the elevator, on his floor, shuffling a little quicker towards his room.

Closing the door and locking it, he threw the basket on the king-sized bed as he blankly walked into the on-suite bathroom. When inside, he gently closed the door and went into the glassed-off shower. He just... took a seat next to one of the proper walls and looked down at his shaky hands.

||Then the spoon did something. He opened his mouth and bit into his scarred arm, tearing small rips in the skin layer. Goddamn did it burn his nerves feeling his teeth scrape into his arm but at the same time, it was addicting. With such perfect straight teeth though, it proved difficult to carve his arm with his teeth.

Soon he was able to pull out a chunk of skin, chewing on the disgusting tasting piece before swallowing. He leaned out, watching his newly bloodied arm with a medium sized chunk taken out of the lower left arm. It oozed his dark purplish blood and he knew it had gotten on his lips as well. But to him? The taste was fucking amazing, it was what he needed and craved and he had gotten what he deserved.

But now he had something to deal with, his arm. Leaning down again, he sucked at the leaking blood. Perfection. He had thought with this scar that his perfect appearance was gone, yet now looking at his stained arm, he was perfect. He felt perfect. He is perfect.||

Next, he had to fix his teeth.