Silverfangs | An II Silverspoon horror AU

Dog Teeth

And so that's what he did, taking the nail file and sharpening up his canine teeth mainly. It was fucking painful to feel my teeth be grinded down and to hear the sounds of such, but he quite enjoyed the pain. Occasionally, the file would hit the gums around the teeth, causing them to break open and bleed. Which he happily drank.

Afterwards, he leaned back from the mirror, it was a bit foggy from how close he was and all the heavy breathing. It looked better to him. Smiling with his teeth caused the newly pointed canines to slightly dig into the tissue around the opposite fang.

God was it painful to do it, with all the new bruising in his mouth and blood sports, yet god did he feel perfect. He looked perfect. He is perfect. Realistically, you probably can't file your teeth with a nail file but this is a fanfiction, so it does.

Soon he realized it'd be weird to talk after altering his mouth, seeing as his fangs were still settling in with the others and were constantly causing the gums to bleed. And so Silver decided to just, suck it up and not talk. It was gonna be weird for everyone to not have the spoon talk but it was the only thing that'd really work.

It was odd for the first day, some tried to talk to him but most of the time he just made a 'hmm?' noise or just flat out ignored them.

During that time, he got to finally test out his new teeth. So for a week, he spent it biting and eating himself. Soon the taste of flesh was normal and he looked forward to biting at himself. By now with a final bite, his arms were covered in bandages meant for his crack, he knew he'd be sent somewhere where he couldn't do it if he reached out.

With bandages came his way of hiding it, he began wearing this dark purple long coat with a ruffled neck. Sure, he got weird looks but damn, he felt himself suddenly become cooler than the spirits above. Silver had ended up pretty much isolating himself from everyone. Everyone but dear Paintbrush.

The enby had kept him company a few times while he was in the commons, mainly just ranting about their friends or the shenanigans that happened around the hotel. Always leaving the spoon with a nudge, a hand on his shoulder or patting him. And it kept his craving of them high as hell.

Now with their constant attention, his attachment increased. He craved more and more, especially after Painty touched him and left. In a way, he wanted to bite them, to know that such a great person was his and his only. But he knew his promise. Painty is a great person. I will not hurt Painty.

And he kept it. He wouldn't hurt them even if his hunger got the best of him. They were perfect. Like Silver.

So that's where he was now, looking out the kitchen window, his hands placed on his face as he leaned over the counter. The outside sky was a bronze pink with an oncoming deepening blue-black shade, glancing hard revealed small twinkling stars scattered across the sky like paint specks. There were no clouds, just the interruption of the tree's overgrowth and the occasional birds fluttering from said trees.

Silverspoon's mind spun in the dark, the craving of flesh and skin crawled around in his stomach yet he stayed persistent. He had already bitten himself earlier and needed to heal a bit before he could do it again. Fiddling with the sleeves of his elegant coat, feeling the chilling feeling of its gold button's on his fingertips.

Everything around him seemed to be drowned out thanks to an odd fogginess in his brain. His cravings grew and grew each passing minute, scratching at his skin, begging to bite himself again. But he resisted.

He was pulled out by the sudden touch on his arm, both from the general touch and the shock of pain from having his exposed flesh touched.

"Hey Silvia,"

That was Paintbrush, the fog had cleared and now he could see the brush pulling up a stool beside him while keeping their hand on his hand. Along their face was a lace of concern, yet still stood a pipe of happiness. Maybe it was from them being around the spoon? The silver utensil felt his heart pound slightly from the thought.

"You haven't really been talking or eating for a while," They lowered their attached hand to the man's wrist. "The others noticed but you seem to be ignoring everyone but me, so uh..."

"Are you okay?"

Those three words hurt. Hurt more than the brush's hold on his open wrist. More than the feeling of losing said person's touch, more than the sharpening of his teeth. And in absolute truth, he had nothing to be upset over. He had no reason to be like this. No reason to have snapped and almost killed himself by eating his arm. No reason to even be here at this point.

But here was an opening to talk. "I don't know, Painty,"

The utensil could feel the shock radiating off of the enby beside him, maybe just from the fact he spoke or maybe his teeth.

"I don't know why I'm acting this way," He continued, at this point his brain was numb. "I'm just always so fucking tired of this. I don't know what I want or what I'm doing. It's just a repeating cycle of feeling hurt and done with everything,"

He felt the enby pull their right arm over the spoon's shoulder and pulled themselves closer to him. Silverspoon's brain sparked and his heart practically stopped for a second, processing the fact that they had just gotten closer.

"In a way, it's okay to feel like that," Paintbrush began, looking out the window with the spoon. "The point of everything isn't to have everything figured out, it's to explore our possibilities and try things out. It can be a cruel process but..."

Silver glanced over to the brush, their hand had tightened slightly around his shoulder, sure it was painful as hell since that was directly on exposed flesh but at this point; all he could hear was his craving of touch from them.

"If we didn't let ourselves get hurt, we wouldn't be where we are now,"

"And as long as you aren't hurting yourself or others in the process of learning," Painty let their head lean onto his left shoulder. "Then where's the issue in trying things out,"

In a brave move, Silver was able to pull back his left hand and placed in the leaning brush's bristles, running his hand gently through them. "Don't call me Silvia,"

"Alright.." Painty smirked slightly, not moving nor yelling to him about him touching their bristles. "Silvia,"

The two locked on their stools gazing out the kitchen window laughed lowly at each other. This is what Silverspoon wanted. He wanted them, here with him. Although the peace was nice, his brain was wrapped around the enby's words.

'If we didn't let ourselves get hurt, then where's the issue in trying things out?'

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

That night, Silver had robbed the same kitchen of six different steak knives. All with dark handles and a glimmering silver blade with rugged sharp edges, perfection at its finest.

He had taken them to his room, melting off the handles and leaving just the blades in almost exactly perfect condition. What he wanted.

Opening a side drawer from his desk, he pulled out a pair of rough leather fingerless gloves and accessed fake leather strips. Flapping them onto the desk's surface, he made sure his sewing machine was plugged in correctly. Grabbing a fabric marker, he laid the blades around the three finger holes and marked where the blade came out and how much leather was needed to cover the oddly shaped rectangle side.

Soon, the gloves had newly attached limbs of silver blades over the three fingers. Placing them on his hands, the rugged sides only slightly reached his fingers yet they were perfect

PERFECT.