marlowemuses | Fear and Adrenaline, for doctor

The latter was easy enough to do. Ashley had a private balcony, and a tendency toward leaving his balcony doors open. Bored of the party, he lounged awhile on the balcony with his cup of wine, and then went inside to sit on his bed and read.

Loneliness and boredom ached at him, and he quickly enough put down his book, sprawling on his bed to pout and to attempt to sleep.

Scarecrow smiled to himself as he saw the younger man, easily spotted thanks to his long, red hair. Now, how to get up there? He hadn't exactly brought a ladder or grappling hook.

He managed to get over the fence thanks to some nearby milk crates that someone had haphazardly discarded nearby. As luck would have it, the side of the house had a tall trellis. Making sure his leg brace wasn't about to jam on him, Crane climbed up and onto the balcony. Scarecrow suddenly wished he hadn't trimmed his nails, so he could scratch at the glass door. Oh well.

Scarecrow slowly entered the room, until he was hovering right beside the young man's bed. "Hello, Ashley..."

[Sorry for the delay. Just finished up a big project. Should be slightly faster while I'm waiting to start the next big project.]

Ashley drifted in and out of sleep. He dreamed of horror stories, which tended to be what he read, and he found the dreams pleasing, usually.

Stirring from his lazy stupor, Ashley blinked up at the figure above him.

His breath caught, heart quickening, at the nightmarish sight. His woozy mind insisted that it was a dream, but he also knew that monsters in dreams were to be handled with great care. And yet, as his head spun, dizzy with disturbed sleep, the world around him felt too real, too familiar, too mundane. Nothing like the vague fantastical nature of dreams.

Ashley scrambled backward, intending at least to put some space between them. He didn't think of screaming. Eyes wide, he just stared, fascinated by the real life monster that had appeared in his room.

[Np!]

Scarecrow smirked at the look of terror on the younger man's face. Time to teach the brat a lesson. "Don't worry, I don't intend to kill you. Scream for help, though, and I'll make you wish you were dead."

He crept even closer, leaning in slightly. "Nothing to say, hm?"

"I'm not dreaming," Ashley said, amazed by that simple fact. He pressed back against a wall, watching the monster with awe and terror. Heart fluttering in his chest, he tilted his head slightly, far too fascinated to want the creature to leave. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to bring out your nightmares," Scarecrow whispered, raising his needled glove to give Ashley a good look at it. "I want to see you tremble before me, and give you a night that you will never forget, no matter how hard you try."

He pointed the needles at the younger man, making it look like he was going to poke him. In truth, if he used his toxin tonight, he would just spray him with the airborne version. But he wanted to see the noble's terror at the idea of those needles.

Ashley winced at the array of needles, giving a little hiccup of terror. He did tremble, chin lowering and shoulders raising, but he kept watching Scarecrow, studying him through his lashes. "I've never seen a nightmare come to life before. You're incredible." He spoke softly, with his head submissively lowered, but still full of pride. He instinctively tipped his head so that it showed submission, but also so that it showed off the beauty of his long, pale throat, and his hair spilled artfully over his shoulder. "Please don't hurt me."

Scarecrow blinked at what he assumed as a compliment. This was unexpected. The display of submission, however, he more than liked. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not physically anyway." He climbed onto the bed, on his hands and knees, so he could get even closer to Ashley. "It's okay to be afraid." His tone was almost soothing, yet there was a hint of menace to it.

Wincing again with nerves and fear as the monster approached, Ashley stayed where he was. His breathing quickened, but his posture opened, becoming less defensive and more willing to obey. He didn't quite yet dare to touch, but he did closely watch the Scarecrow's eyes, trying to drink in the details of his living nightmare. "Are you going to fuck me?" he asked, hot-blooded enough that that had been the implication he'd picked up from the Scarecrow's threat of a night he'd never forget.

Scarecrow was taken aback, pulling his head away just slightly. "What?" Now that wasn't what he expected to hear. "No, I'm not going to rape you." Because that was what he assumed the younger man meant, since he could tell that he was clearly scared.

The rest of Ashley's trepidation faded away, since the monster had promised not to kill him, not to hurt him, and not to rape him. A monster who could be reasoned with, then, perhaps.

He smiled a tiny bit, and leaned forward, catlike and graceful as he flirted. There was still a soft hitch of fear in his breath, and his fingers still trembled, but Ashley had found his confidence once more. The nightmare was not here to hurt him, after all. "What, then? Did you just come to watch me sleep, because I am so beautiful?"

"I came to bring your nightmares to life," Scarecrow replied. "I am the Scarecrow." He wasn't sure if that smile was sincere or a reaction to his fear. Much like how one laughed when nervous. Perhaps a little of both, in this case.

"You find me frightening, do you not?"

"Yes," Ashley confirmed. "And you are. Though I don't think I've ever dreamed of scarecrows before. And you're real." His hand reached out, fascinated, wanting to touch the terrifying face to find out if it really would be solid beneath his fingers.

"I am a symbol of fear," Scarecrow replied. He allowed Ashley to touch him and feel the rough burlap. "I am quite real." He had been expecting the young man to cower before him, and yet he was also acting like a wonderful dream had just come true.

"Such a pretty face. It would be a shame if you were to look in the mirror and find it mangled." Ashley seemed the type to take pride in his appearance. Perhaps he feared just that. "I can make you see such a thing, and in your mind, it would be quite real."

Edited 2016-09-23 05:33 (UTC)

Ashley winced at the suggestion, and he drew back, interest shuttering. His brows pulled together, still frightened, but hurt and angry now, as though he'd been insulted. "Don't do that! Why would you do that? It would be awful."

Ashley crossed his arms. He had nowhere to go, still penned in by Scarecrow's presence on his bed. His cheeks were pale in the dim light, and his eyes were dark. His lips pouted. "I don't like that sort of nightmare at all. It is gauche. Like a slasher film--not scary at all, just awful."

Fretting at his lower lip, Ashley's petulance shifted quickly enough back into pleading, sensing that it would be unwise to be too angry toward someone quite as frightening as his nighttime visitor. "Can you give nightmares, truly? Do you have anything that's lovely and dreadful?"

Crane frowned. He had intended to simply strike at the man's vanity and play off a possible fear of losing his beauty, not get this reaction. Perhaps he'd miscalculated. All scientists miscalculated every once in a while. Though he could quite understand the disgust with those 'slasher movies'.

"I can," He raised the glove again. "Perhaps you'd prefer imagining that that book over there is blank? Or that you are up on a ledge with no way down? Or make you see a monster that you have always feared. You sound like you want to be scared."

"I do want to be scared," Ashley agreed. "I love horror stories. Don't you? Monsters and unnatural things that lurk. Angry ghosts and ferocious demons. But I hardly need to imagine anything of the sort when you are already so very frightening and entirely real."

He laughed, sitting forward with interest. "Did you really just come to give me nightmares? That is very sweet of you." Wicked and flirtatious, Ashley leaned forward and kissed the monster's cheek.

Perhaps I misjudged this one. Crane thought. A man who appeared to be just a brainless noble but loved to be scared. How interesting. This might require further study.

Scarecrow froze at the kiss, which scattered the scientific part of his brain momentarily. He paused, looking at Ashley. "You were not implying fear of molestation when you asked if I was here to have sex with you, were you?"

Edited 2016-09-23 23:16 (UTC)

Ashley giggled, both at the question and at the way it was phrased. "I've never been molested by a monster before. I wonder if I'd enjoy it. I know I've certainly thought about such things before."

He lifted his brows in invitation and challenge.

Scarecrow considered the young man before him. This was definately not the way he imagined this playing out. It had been a long time since Crane had sex with anyone, and he'd never been propositioned while in full Scarecrow attire.

"You are a very odd young man," He said, trailing his fingers down Ashley's cheek.

"Yes," Ashley agreed, lifting his chin proudly at the touch. "And very beautiful."

He shifted in closer, resting his arms gently on Scarecrow's shoulders. "So are you going to fuck me, then? Have you got a cock?" He tilted his head, innocently curious about it. He would be disappointed, though not terribly surprised, if his monster proved incapable. One could never be sure of what anatomy monsters did and didn't have.

"Of course I do," Scarecrow replied. "I don't suppose you keep lubricant nearby?" It wasn't as if he'd come here expecting to have sex.

"Yes," Ashley said, with a wicked smile. "And all sorts of other things."

He drew away, beckoning Scarecrow to the chest by the side of the bed. It contained a myriad of things, mostly vibrators and anal plugs, with a few collars and restraints. Proud of his little collection, Ashley lifted his chin, watching his monster for a reaction.

Scarecrow slid off the bed and leaned down when the chest came open. He couldn't help but make a surprised expression as he saw the contents. He wasn't even sure what half of this stuff was for.

He picked up a dildo curiously, turning it on for a second before returning it. He picked up a pair of handcuffs next, noting the release mechanism and guessing what they were for. "This is... quite the collection," Crane said, taking out and examining a neatly bundled length of soft rope.

"I haven't even gotten to use half of it," Ashley said, and pouted. His fingers strayed over a soft leather flogger, then lingered in the soft, fox-red fur of a tail that was connected to a metal plug. "Most of my lovers aren't terribly adventurous, and I don't often take lovers. They bore me."

He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, seeming simultaneously like the boy of nineteen that he was and like some bored and beautiful aged courtesan who had years of lovers to remember.

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