#Those Who Have Not {Swords & Armor}
splintergirl13 · a year ago
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The king of the aether wanted revenge on the moral who dare take his monster away from him. So the god ordered his subjects to carry forth 'justice'.
When the aether guards attacked, the mortal's family was stolen from him.
All that remained from the battle was his beloved's tattered green cloak, and his sister's armor and dual swords; torn off of the two as they struggled to protect him.
Now, the mortal is on a mission to save his family. 
And he's willing to do anything to get them back.
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magicmalcolm · a year ago
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Oh yeah, Pokémon’s Magic Number™.  Thanks again to @1863-project​ for the illicit food tin hook-up.
...so, uh...what exactly do you get for completing the Curry Dex?
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“to date.”
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“of cooking utensils.  Please take these!”
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...worth it?
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aceofwonders · a year ago
really LOVE the idea of super hero thaddeus having a full on transformation into his super hero persona LIKE he summons his sword and armor just appears on him! and BAM! he’s Insert Super Hero Name Here! 
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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 months ago
The Aftermath of the Chosen One
Summary: Dulce is a Hero. The people who made her one better hope they never see her again. TW: mentions of violence, ptsd, panic attacks
She is a villain when the adventure is over. It creeps up on her slowly. The shortened temper, the unnatural laughter, the darting eyes. She looks up at the corners of rooms for demon bats that don’t exist in this world and claws at her own flesh when she doesn’t find them.
Her companions come find her six months afterwards.
What does it look like, a prince and a knight and a mage walking into a McDonald’s? It’s 1 am, closing time, when she finds out.
“Dulce!” Prince Amor clanks through the fronts doors. He’s wearing the Royal Armor, the set that seems to glow from within with the Holy Light of his Blessed Ancestors. The crown on his head is as gold as his eyes. Everything about him looks fake under the artificial dining room lights, but he doesn’t notice. His golden eyes are locked on her. “At last, we’ve found you!”
She’s covered in a fine mist of oil, slashes of burns from the heat lamps marching up her arms. Her black pants are grey under a dusting of spilled flour and she knows her short, brown hair is frizzed up after her eight hour shift. She blinks at the three walking into the dining room and can’t find the words.
“I told you I’d find her,” Mage Kira says proudly. Her black dress looks like it belongs in a gothic version of the Nutcracker. She waves her flowering wand over her head. “Dulce’s magic has always been so distinctive, I knew it would be easy to find her in the Mundane World!”
Mundane world, Dulce thinks. That’s what they think of Earth. Mundane. Run-of-the-mill.
Not special.
Not worthy.
Dulce’s stomach cramps so badly that she sways on the spot. Why did she send the other girl home? Things would be so much easier if she had another human here.
Knight Cora frowns, taking everything in. “Friend Dulce. Are you…well?”
“What are you doing here?” Dulce croaks. She feels like she can hear the howling rabbits or the demon wolves she once fought surrounding the building. She taps her ears with the heels of her hands. The percussion of it clears her head better than any mindful meditation. “Alone?”
“Those unfortunate matters you helped us with have been cleared up,” Prince Amor says. He clanks right up to the register and grins down at Dulce. “You saved my kingdom. I thought it a good idea to come share thanks once again.”
Thanks? Thanks? She says, “You couldn’t have gotten permission to come through the portal.” The portal is run by wizards and wizards are notoriously strict about who comes and goes through the Destiny Portal.
“We did,” Knight Cora says. She at least has had the good sense to try and find mundane clothes. Her soft, linen shirt is slightly less offensive to Dulce’s tired eyes than Prince Amor’s gleaming armor. “A lot of things had to align for the timing to be right, but such is the nature of magic.” She leans forward. “Dulce, I’m familiar with these establishments. Do you…work here?”
Mage Kira gasps and her head whips around. “No, surely not! Here? Work? A Hero works here?”
And that grates. Dulce feels her shock like nails down her spine. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I’ve seen you skin a hydra with nothing but a fruit knife,” Knight Cora says. She waves a hand around the room. “This is akin to working as a tavern maid.”
Prince Amor rocks back on his heels. “Surely not! Why that’s unacceptable—”
“Why?” Dulce feels disconnected from her body. “Why? Why is this unacceptable?”
Knight Cora waves her hands at Dulce. “You’re a warrior! A Hero! Surely you must know that you deserve better than this?”
Better? Dulce shakes her head. “Leave.” Her throat feels dry. The phantom howls of demons baying for her blood rings in her ears. “Leave, out, get out--!”
The trio exclaim as she rushes around the counter towards them. For a moment, Dulce forgets that she’s in her work uniform, a black apron tied around her waist rather than a sword. She’s so angry that she imagines herself in full armor, her hair bound along the nape of her neck, her hand reaching for her blade—
Knight Cora catches Dulce’s empty hand before she can strike Prince Amor.
“I killed people for you,” Dulce says. The warmth of Knight Cora’s hand against her wrist is more shocking than the strength behind her grip. Dulce’s adventure left her changed forever in more ways than one. The strength that world blessed her with is another reason she no longer fits in here. “Is killing a more noble profession? Is murder better than serving food?”
“They were demons!” Prince Amor looks at Dulce’s fist caught in Knight Cora’s grip and frowns. “Friend Dulce, are you unwell?”
“Maybe she’s possessed,” Mage Kira says. She raises her wand and the flowers tied to the tip glow. “A simple diagnostic spell should—”
Dulce rips away from Knight Cora with a snarl.  “Do not cast magic on me. I do not give you permission.”
Prince Amor raises his hands. “It is only to ascertain your state—”
“I’m not possessed!” Dulce laughs and it’s a bitter sound. She looks between these three, these three who guided her through their world and put her into battle again and again. She looks at them and is back there, sword dropping from her hand as the demons screamed. “I want you to leave. It was supposed to be over when I killed the Demon King for you. It was supposed to be over.”
It's so unfair. The person she’s become—she became this person for them. Because of them. They told her their fight was just. They told her she was saving them. They told her so many things. She believed them.
Damn her, she believed them.
“You…didn’t want to see us again?” Knight Cora asks. Her face is pale and her eyes wide. She stretches out a hand to Dulce and then retracts it, hurt. “After all we went through, after the adventures we shared, after—” She wavers, unable to speak for a moment. When she recovers, she whispers, “Dulce, we’re family.”
“We’re not family,” Dulce spits. She’s shaking. With rage? With fear? With the memory of the Demon King’s blood hot on her hands? “The worst thing I’ve ever done, I did for you three. The blood on my hands—I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it.”
And there it is. The awful truth. She lets the words shake her to her bones. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t her world, her fight, her place. She took a weapon into her hands and she didn’t get all the facts before she acted. She was threatened, yes. They were her only way back home. But she still acted.
And now the blood is on her hands.
“I will never be the same,” Dulce says. She means that she is less than. That she is broken. That she is an abomination. “I feel as though I can’t live with what I’ve done.”
“The burdens we all bear from our battle—” Mage Kira starts to say only to fall silent as Dulce laughs.
“It wasn’t my world!” Dulce doesn’t know how to describe the horror of that. “I don’t know who I am anymore. A Hero? No, because I didn’t save anyone, did I? I just filled your country’s pockets with money and destroyed homes. I—I am a monster because of it. Because of you.”
“You save my kingdom,” Prince Amor says. His jaw clenches and unclenches. “You claim to carry evils, but that is not true. You did what was right. You saved—”
“The children cried when I killed their king,” Dulce says. That moment is as clear to her now as the day it happened. The skies so clear and blue overhead. A sword in her hand. A body at her feet. The howls – no, the wails – of a people devastated by the death of their ruler. “The magic crumbled. The castle fell apart around their ears.” She turns on the Prince. “Your kingdom was saved? But what of theirs?”
“They were demons. We told you, the demonic are parasites—"
“Where could the dryads go when you burned their forests?” She advances on them again and, this time, Knight Cora does not stop her. She steps. They step back. “Where could the nymphs go when you siphoned their lakes? Where could the dwarves go when you stole their mines?”
“It was for the prosperity of the kingdom—”
“IT WAS FOR NOTHING!” Dulce doesn’t flinch when a light shatters above their heads. Her power claws at her skin, desperate to be used. The magic suppressor around her ankle heats in warning. “You made me a monster for nothing. For greed and disgusting self-indulgence. You falsified a prophecy for sport and then dare show up here and call me a Hero?”
Mage Kira steps in front of the other two, her eyes alight with power. “Dulce, I don’t know who has corrupted you, but we’re your friends! Stop this magic at once.”
“I can’t use magic here,” Dulce says. She lifts the leg of her khakis to show the anklet. “The Magic Tower bound me.”  She bares her teeth as the remaining lights tremble under the weight of her aura. “No need to be afraid.”
“Why would they do that?” Mage Kira asks. She seems to forget the situation entirely, the horror of bound magic overwhelming her. “You’re a Chosen One, a Hero—”
“I wasn’t supposed to ever see you again,” Dulce says. She barely recognizes her own voice. Before when she said these words, she sounded wounded. Scared. Now she sounds mocking. Contemptuous. “They promised me it was over. That you would never come through the Portal of Destiny again.” Her lip curls. “And neither would I.”
What does it look like when a prince, a mage, and a knight walk into a McDonalds? What does it look like when they meet a sister, a comrade, a Hero? What does it look like when they realize not everyone believes their narrative, their lies, their convenient untruths?
Prince Amor lays a hand on his sword. “I consider you a friend, Dulce. We traveled together and fought together. I know not who has poisoned your mind against us, but we shall save you.” He glances at the other two through his peripherals. “We must take her back to our world. Our healers can—”
“I can’t go with you.”
Knight Cora reaches out a hand towards her as if offering salvation. “Dulce, the prince is right. The feelings you’re having are unnatural. You may feel that you can’t come with us, but you must.”
“Not won’t.” Dulce jabs a finger to her anklet. “Can’t.”
“The wizards have barred you from the Destiny Portal?” Mage Kira is the first to realize what she means. “But they must have known that you’ve been corrupted—”
“I tried to go back to kill you,” she tells Prince Amor. She lets the confession ring in the silence for a long, long moment. “That’s why they prevented me from returning. Because once I realized what you had done to me, to those poor people, I tried to go back to slit your throats like I should have when you first called me Hero.”
The three of them stare at her, unable or unwilling to understand. She feels her magic swirling faster and faster inside of her chest. Outside the restaurant, a car alarm blares. The air trembles. A table behind Knight Cora tips over, causing all three of them to jump.
Dulce grits her teeth and wills her magic to behave.
“You Chose me,” Dulce says. She sneers the word. Chose. “You used me for evil. You destroyed me with it. I came back from your world broken. So I decided to atone with your deaths. The wizards stopped me. They promised me that it was over. They promised me that I didn’t need to atone for what the Prophecy made me do. Then, when they realized I didn’t believe them, they bound me. To protect you.”
She hears the demons screaming louder and louder. There’s pressure building in her head. The worst thing she’s ever done, she did for them. She did it on a sunny day. She did it in the time it takes her to flip a burger. And they dare come here and tell her she deserves better.
Thunder rumbles in the distance.
“Dulce,” Prince Amor finally says. No longer Friend Dulce. Only her name and a growing horror in his eyes. “Dulce, no. Someone had whispered these evils in your ear. You—surely not—”
“Leave,” Dulce says. This time her voice rings with magic. A command. “The laws in my mundane world are different than you know. The wizards have stopped me from harming you in your world. Mine won’t stop me.”
Knight Cora opens her mouth just as lightning crashes outside. She casts a fearful look out the windows and back to Dulce. She says, “We did nothing to you.”
“You did everything to me,” Dulce says. She points to the door. “Leave.”
Thunder shakes the building.
“I’ll save you,” Prince Amor blurts out. The two women pull and push him towards the door. He twists as he shouts, “Whatever sorcery this is, we will save you from it!”
The wind howls through the doors when Knight Cora throws them open. Rain pounds down, slamming into the street with real force. Mage Kira throws a magical shield over them all, but it doesn’t keep them dry. The rain falls through the shield as if it’s not even there.
Stay safe, Dulce mouths at her. Mage Kira is the only one who looks truly afraid before they dart away into the night.
Dulce stands in the same spot and breathes. She stares at the walls and the tables and the chairs until she forgets what it looks like when a knight, a prince, and a mage walk into a McDonalds. She’s here. She’s not there.
With any luck, they make it back through the Portal of Destiny before she remembers that they’re here too.
Dulce goes to get a broom. The glass from the shattered light won’t sweep itself.
A little bit of a darker story for y’all this week. I’ve been struggling with some of what Dulce’s been struggling with lately and it was so cathartic to write a character who is angry and stays angry. Who looks at the people who didn’t help her at her darkest point - who exacerbated her darkest point in some ways -  and tells them to run. It’s a bit of a darker story, for sure, but nonetheless one I feel closely connected to in a lot of ways.
If you’d like to support my writing, please consider checking out my Patreon (X). I post there a full week before I post stories here and include 1 extra, patreon-exclusive story per month.
Next week’s story comes from my Narrative Town (X) universe:
Summary: It's a Rule not to get involved in grown-up stories. But when your parents' lives are in danger, even you will break a Rule.
It’s up on Patreon now and will be here next week :)
Thanks for reading!
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dos-oroguitas · 7 months ago
Playing with the Madrigal Grandkids in Minecraft + S/O prompts, Platonic! Antonio
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Isabela Madrigal would almost always give you flowers. Randomly dropping it in front of you and shift crouching so that you'd know even in game, she loves and appreciates you.
Proclaims the two of you as the rulers of the nether. Would probably make her own custom texture so that you two could have matching crowns.
Very much protective of you, she may only have flowers and a lava bucket in her inventory but you can count on her to risk herself to fight off mobs who would approach you.
Gets jealous of the dogs and cats you tamed who you'd always baby talk.
"They're not baby! I am, I'm your baby!"
Grumpy Isabella noises. What do those animals have that she doesn't have?!
Most likely would have tried to hide them so you could pay attention to her instead. Feeling bad midway and apologizing profusely when you get online.
She'll insist on having matching Minecraft skins.
Most definitely names your armor before giving it to you like the netherite helmet? 'Mi Amor's Head Protector', your sword? '(Name) and Luisa's bonk stick'.
She's proud you're wearing the armor that she herself crafted and mined for.
Puts her Minecraft bed next to yours as soon as you have a home in Mirabel's Minecraft replica of Casita.
"Mi Amor, don't wander off too far."
Yeah you'd most probably be like Camilo, getting lost for god knows what reason. You just liked to explore the world!
Her Minecraft character scurrying after yours when she notices you're straying away too far.
Let's face it, she'd build a shrine for you. Not in a creepy way. Well, she'd plant flowers on your statue's feet. It's cute, shh.
Most likely plants red poppies in the shape of a heart and crouches in the center of it to show how much she loves you.
Banner and pixel art for her significant other!?
Probably away a lot, collecting materials for her new map art that features the two of you together.
Lots of texts in-game
Randomly places signs in front of you with little cute messages of how she loves you.
"(Name) I made another map art!”
“(Name), Me encantas. :D <3.” She would say while standing on an enchanting table.
Makes a Minecraft playlist for her significant other!?
'Songs to listen to while you play Minecraft with the Love of your life.'
'Don't need to mine any diamonds when you're the only precious one to me.'
Cheesy playlist names
Gets you a parrot in your preferred color. Lets them sit on the juke box with one another.
She would make music out of the note blocks in Minecraft of your favorite song.
Only hops on the group call when you're on.
"Hah. Simp." - Most likely Camilo.
Camileon was k*lled by Dolores.
Teases everyone as a simp but the biggest simp there is when it comes to his s/o.
The boy would most likely ask for admin privileges just so he could impress you with his super duper powerful 'Sharpness 100' sword.
This boy is at your beck and call. You need trees? He'll get the saplings for you. You need diamonds?! Say less, he's already TNT mining at y 11.
Most likely would cry about you if Isabela bans him.
"Isabela! Please, I can't live on without seeing them in-game. I need them! I need mi vida!" He would sob.
Would probably get scolded by you when he randomly attacks Bruno.
"That man is dirt poor! You leave him alone, Madrigal!"
Antonio (Platonic)
You are very protective of Antonio in game. They're like the brother you wished you had/ never had.
Probably buys him Minecraft plushies.
Pepa would absolutely love how you spoil Antonio. She is very grateful.
Once Camilo had accidentally hit a dog and instead of helping him, you two just watched as he was mauled by the dogs.
"Should we help him, (Name)?"
"Nah, he deserves it."
Camileon was k*lled by Wolf.
Bonus! Bruno
Rambles about this fun block game he's been playing with the kids for a while.
Manages to convince you to play it with his nephews and nieces.
"Auntie (Name)! :D !!" Most likely fills the chat.
Pranks wars with Camilo.
Bruno's defender when Camilo suddenly attacks.
You probably spawn kill Camillo while he screams for mercy.
"Maybe you should take it easy on Camilo, Mi esposa/ Mi esposo."
Camileon was k*lled by (Name). F's in the chat.
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Minecraft with the Madrigal grandkids s/o + platonic Antonio? I'm very into Minecraft right now, please don't judge me.
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blackvnat · 10 days ago
Infinity Loss
Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Shadowhunters! Reader
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gif not mine!
summary: what if..? your death is the only way to stop thanos?
warnings: death, mentions of dead bodies, weapons, heavy angst.
notes: hey guys! sorry for my lack of updates but i'm kinda stuck with my main fic. i found this piece i wrote a long ago, hope you like it!
You are standing in the desert land reigned by silence, around you many other fighters standing waiting for the final command. The hot sun bathes your skin and your angelic swords in the palms of your hands are firm enough to have become white and sweaty.
On your sides, one step ahead of you, Natasha and Wanda are standing in the same position as you with the only exception that they are also in a shield position to protect you from anything.
Although you have skills to be able to defend yourself, your girlfriends will never tire of protecting you from anything. Especially because it is common knowledge that you are one of those reckless people.
One of those people who at the cost of saving one person would throw their life away without even thinking twice.
T'Challa solemnly reaches the top of a raised stone and looks around, he looks at his people with honor and meets the eyes of all the other fighters who have come from all over the world to take the side of good.
The king closes his eyes and tastes the warm wind slowly blowing, brings his arms to his chest and shouts loudly "Wakanda Forever!"
The battlefield erupts with great choruses and screams, weapons raised in the sky and the sound of feet running towards death makes its way breaking the heavy silence.
The protective shield is lowered and masses of aliens enter Wakanda, an infinite collision between bodies begins between weapon clashes and magic, screams, cries and thuds on the ground.
You start fighting with different aliens, your angelic swords shine solemnly as they break the eternal evil in the aliens' body and it goes on like this, always keeping an eye on your girls and your teammates.
The sky has erupted in duels of magic and robotic armor blasts while the earth is covered in red blood and dust.
Suddenly a blast on a nearby hill moves the gaze of the battlefield "my master" one of the aliens whispers and some of them start running in that direction, "guys, be careful, Thanos has just arrived on earth. Protect Vision and the stone at all costs." Steve's voice bursts into your earphone and the world seems to stop for a second, a whirlwind of anxiety assaults you and makes you stagger.
But this is your destiny and there is nothing wrong with an early departure, Strange is high in the sky leading the sorcerers but his gaze collides with yours.
His face is full of scratches, tired, dirty and sweaty, he raises a finger in the air and doesn't take his eyes away from you for a second as he tries to stop a group of aliens. You nod and take a deep breath, carry your angelic sword high into the sky.
"Raziel!" A flash of white light rips through the sky and lands on the battlefield making your angelic sword vibrate and the ground beneath you, you see some fighters and aliens falling from the shock but you haven't moved an inch.
In your hand the angelic sword is living fire that sends sparks throughout your body, you breathe in the unhealthy air of blood and death that surrounds you and your eyes glue to the pink alien fighting Thor, "what have I to lose? "
You turn for a second in search of the gaze of your girlfriends, they are not very far from each other and they fight fiercely: Natasha fights shoulder to shoulder with Clint, while Wanda instead makes shoulder with her brother Pietro.
You smile because you don't want to remember anything but the infinite beauty of their pure hearts, full of glory and heroism. 
"Oh, hey, Y/N!" Peter lands next to you "you won't belive it! Mr. Stark has advanced my costume and my webs are a lot more powerful" Spiderman starts chattering and you laugh softly hearing his rambling, it always makes you feel happy when he's excited about the little things.
"Spider, for God's sake, we're in the middle of a battle" Yelena approaches you two followed by Kate "oh, look out!" One of her arrows passes over your head to plant itself in one of the aliens not far from you "God" Yelena murmurs and you giggle "Petey be careful, you could get hurt",
"thanks that's what I'm trying to make these understand two idiots for quite a while!"
The blonde rolls her eyes "Hey, Spiderboy, a hand?" Falcon calls Peter and his eyes light up "It's Spiderman, Mr. Falcon, but I'm coming" he greets you quickly and runs across the field.
Meanwhile, Yelena has noticed your sword and the way it looks different "hey" she calls your attention, "we are going to help Peter and the others" you nod "be careful" Kate winks at you and starts walking away.
However Yelena stays behind and spends a few more seconds to look at you and then look at your sword "no funny business, Y/N" she says threateningly and you giggle "yes, now go, I'll be fine" she gives you another look and go away.
You nod to yourself and bring your eyes back to the two fighting aliens and start running in their direction, you feel your feet pounding violently on the ground alternating your run with small jumps as you climb over dead bodies and weapons without masters.
You arrive at the end of the small hill surrounded by trees, around there are other bodies and your heart burns in pain at the sight of the hole in the head of Vision, your eyes become bright and a scream dies in your throat as you kneel before his lifeless body.
Just a little further Thanos is throwing off Thor from his body, about to snap his fingers, your eyes claps in his direction and your body on command flees towards him more determined than ever.
You jump on his shoulders and perform one of the widow's tricks that Yelena taught you not recently, your angelic sword rips through Thanos' body causing him to stagger and settle straight into his heart.
The alien turns pale and begins to open his mouth wide in search of air, the flames of heaven poisoning his veins make him weaker every second. However he uses one of his last shocks of energy on you and with one hand he surrounds your life and slams you against a tree, the infinity glove falls from his hand, everything turns black.
"Natasha, Wanda, come here immediately!" Steve's voice growls loudly into the two women's earphones and the violent battle seems to slow, even stop, around them as their eyes collide. Their hearts start beating when they start looking for your figure and can't see you, they certainly haven't missed the flash of light you unleashed in the air but, they don't expect it to kill you.
Wanda and Natasha start running side by side towards Steve on the nearby hill, while Thanos is eagerly trying to gather another little strength to reach the glove and prevent his death. Your angelic sword still straight and stuck in his chest glows and poisons it in every atom.
Your eyes are heavy but, nevertheless, you manage to open them; you see Steve looking patiently towards the end of the hill. Thor has just planted Stormbreaker on the alien's neck as a sign of warning. However, a group of aliens comes to their master's rescue by setting up an ambush. You are still motionless on the ground, the earth stains your pale face, the pain in your head is strong enough to make you see around you out of focus and make you think to close your eyes and abandon everything.
For a moment you do it is only that you see the pale pink alien take the glove in his hands again and your body snaps ignoring all the pains that surround you, with one hand he takes off your angelic sword and throws it to the ground. It no longer shines with the fire of heaven, it too has become a pale color in contrast to the blood of the Titan.
Thanos slips on the gauntlet of infinity and a scream rips through the battlefield, his veins tainted by the power of the stones and his pallor fades.
You see him smirk and gasp a bit, his eyes land straight into yours in defiance as he puts his fingers in the air, you start running and everything seems to go in slow-motion.
Thor and Steve fight shoulder to shoulder as fear crosses their eyes, Thanos erupts a laugh that is muffled when he again jumps on him and attacks his face.
He grunts and tries to get rid of you, you hit as long as you can trying to keep him busy and your eyes land on the glove. Your eyes sparkle and you give a sinister smile then he gets rid of you and crashes you off his body.
You land on the ground again and your pains are amplified and you stand still for a second, you hear fast footsteps coming towards the hill and your mind immediately thinks about your girlfriends.
Your heart rises in your throat and you swallow, the Titan erupts in an evil laugh you thought you'd only hear in the movies and brings the glove back up in the air about to snap your fingers.
Everything is interrupted by the entrance of your teammates, you hear Thor happy shouting "you're so fucked up, Thanos" and the alien looks straight into those of Iron Man.
While you see Doctor Strange's gaze, your eyes meet, he nods and you smile, this is your fine line.
"Am i?" Thanos smirks sinister and time seems to stop, everyone starts walking towards him, "you humans, fools" however he is faster "i'am invevitable" and snaps his fingers.
Silence, the world falls into deadly silence waiting for something to happen, Thanos's face contorts in confusion. Everyone is standing in their places afraid that a single movement could cause the destruction of the earth, the Titan slowly turns the glove and his eyes meet the empty thrones, the glove is devoid of the stones and surrounded by their grooves.
His face changes to a frightened expression and no one understands what happened, he raises his head and his eyes fixed in shock aimed at the team of super heroes.
You slowly rose after the Titan failed and freed the infinity stones from the angelic box in your belt. The colored stones immediately snapped and began to surround your half battle glove, much less powerful than that of the Titan, the pain that shakes your body is indescribable and you can't even stand up.
You are on your knees and your mouth releases a grunts, your free hand firmly on the ground to keep you in balance, Thanos has his eyes fixed on your figure and shortly after is followed by all your companions who have not even noticed that you were conscious.
The power of the gems begins to make its way into your body and your arm is lit up with colored energies that send shocks everywhere, you throw your head back and release a painful whimper.
Your vision is blurry and you don't even know how long you will still be able to take it, however you don't miss the moment when your girlfriends look at you and their eyes begin to fill with fear, worry and pain.
"Kid, you don't have to do this!" Tony breaks the silence preceding everyone, you smile slightly and nod, he uncovers his face from the helmet and starts giving you a worried look.
You pant a bit and close your eyes taking a deep breath "and .." your voice comes out raspy and faint "we are" you see your girlfriends running towards you hoping to stop you and before Wanda can freeze you with her magic "the Avengers" you snap your fingers and everything around you explodes in a white light.
"Doctor Strange!" You greet the sorcerer who has come out of the portal, his face contorted with concern; behind him a group of people you've never seen and who seem equally shaken "Y/N, meet the Guardians of the Galaxy" the sorcerer points a hand towards the group of people behind him, you wipe your dirty thumb of peanut butter in your mouth and smile "hey!" They nod in greeting and Strange fixes his gaze in your eyes "call the others, we need your help."
"What kind of name is Thanos?" Tony scoff and you giggle "a name of a psychopathic dickhead" Strange sighs heavily at Clint's words "I need you to take this seriously, the earth is in grave danger" Vision floats to Wanda "maybe you better start taking me off this and protect her "he taps on the stone of the mind" out of the question, Vision" Wanda glares at him.
"But it's the only way" he counters "No, we can protect the mind stone and keep you alive" you join the conversation, put a hand on the shoulder of the robot "Wakanda" Tony smirks and nods in Bruce's direction.
It didn't take long to get to Wakanda, Strange had already warned T'Challa and it seems the kingdom was already preparing to face the worst. Shuri immediately made sure to take care of Vision as soon as possible and your girlfriends followed him while you took refuge in a safe place to prepare your weapons.
You are near the large windows of the royal hall and you look at the majesty of this land, a little further down you see Steve, Sam and Bucky getting ready and a smile forms on your lips. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Strange appeared by your side as quietly as possible, almost like a ghost. You turn to look at him and see his face still twisted in concern, streams of blood run from his lip, he looks back at you and smiles slightly at you. "It is, a lot."
You stick your tongue between your teeth and your gaze falls on the majestic landscape in front of you "what is it, Stephen?" He swallows and looks at you taken back of your reaction "i .." he winces, you bring your attention back to him and he heaves a deep sigh.
"I have looked at all the possible ways this battle can end", you nod softly "there is only one possible way for the earth to be saved" he declares and turns to you. You don't notice it right away, but pain and repentance gushes into his eyes and you smile because you read between the lines and there is no need for him to expose a word more.
"Good." You feel a strong desire to cry, to scream, to run away, to start punching yourself in such a way as to wake you up from this nightmare but all you do is bring your hands behind your back closing them in a fist. You take one last look at the view and you give a pat to Strange's shoulder "let's get ready then".
You refuse to think, to elaborate and your heart only shows you a way to put out the boulder that has just landed on your chest. Natasha is loading her guns while Wanda is helping Kate power up her arrows along with Clint, their eyes snapping at you the instant you walk into the room. "Hey, can we talk?" They give you a confused look but, nevertheless, they follow you.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes as you feel their hands caress your arms "Detka, what's up?" Natasha's voice growls in your ears and you open your eyes, you give a small smile and see their eyes twisted with concern. "Nothing, don't worry" you put your hands on their cheeks stroking soflty "I wanted .." you stop looking for the right words "I just wanted a moment with you", their lips turn into a smile and Wanda reaches out to kiss you. 
It's a sweet but long kiss, and you try to express all the love you have for them. Wanda gently strokes your back in an attempt to soothe you, you detach yourself from the witch to repeat the same action with Natasha and when you break away from the kiss you lean over to collide your foreheads.
Wanda joins in and you close your eyes savoring the sweet moment, "everything will be fine, our love" Wanda whispers to you and you nod with your eyes still closed.
After a few moments the sound of a great siren explodes all over Wakanda and the three of you break off, this is your signal.
Your mind is shaken by a line of one of Nat and Yelena's favorite songs and your heart trembles, you take another big sigh and and you unlatch your angelic swords from your scabbard behind your back.
"Oh, bye bye Miss American Pie ... This will be the day I'd die."
"No!" You hear Wanda's broken voice in the distance, two hands rest on your face as everything become blurry around you. Thanos and his army slowly begin to turn to dust, the Titan hunts a last scream of despair and vanishes in the hot air of battle. 
Slowly the Wakanda starts to regain color and the destruction around it fades, the body of Vision trembles and a light around it makes it float. In an instant, as if a finished record had just restarted, Vision's eyes come back to life and her hole in her head disappears in an instant.
Another light pierces the sky and explodes, a triumphant man lands on the ground and looks around confused almost incredulous to be there "Brother!" Thor screams and dives into his brother Loki's arms, "You're alive!" The God of thunder turns to you and his smile falls and his face sinks into pain.
"Gamora?" Star-lord lowers his helmet when a greenish-skinned woman appears in the center of the field, the Guardians approach almost frightened "Quill?" She looks at her teammates and puts her hands to her mouth "what happened? How is this possible?" But he just throws himself into her arms and kisses her.
A pair of green eyes meet yours tired and heartbroken "detka, what have you done?" Natasha runs a hand through yout hairs, you see her shiny eyes and your heart burns because you've never seen Natasha cry. "Tash, Wands" your voice is above a sigh, both women by your side "please stay with us" Wanda kisses your forehead and warm tears wet her cheeks.
"Y/N!" Peter kneels in front of your body "look, we won", his voice comes out broken "look around, you did it" the spider bursts into tears, Kate nd Yelena join him and hug him hoping with every atom of their body that you are not going to die. 
"Dorogoy, please" Natasha sighs in your ear as she and Wanda rock you, your head is buried firmly in their bodies and right now that's enough for you. You just need to know that dying in the arms of the people you love the most and that's fine.
Your girlfriends collide your foreheads together for the last time, although you feel weaker and weaker the sensation of their touches is pleasant and relaxes you "I love you" you whisper softly almost as if it were a secret, you smile softly and you lose yourself in theirs eyes for the last time "we love you tons, baby" Wanda and Nat whisper to you softly and death succumbs to you, it drags you away from your life and from the people you love, letting peace reign within you.
Your body becomes heavy in their touches and your eyes are closed, the two women still hold your body closer to them, while Tony collapses on his knees "Friday?" He whispers softly, the tears fall out of his eyes out of control "Zero vital functions, Sir."
The robotic voice breaks the shattering silence until Wanda lets out a desperate scream as her magic surrounds you and Natasha, the two women cry uncontrollably with no intention of letting you go.
Everyone around looks at the scene in silence and one by one they break in tears as they bow to honor your great act of courage.
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fantastic-nonsense · 4 months ago
I genuinely think the most of the differences between the Pevensies in the books vs. the movies can be explained by one simple fact: the Movie!Pevensies are fully cognizant of and emotionally attached to their experiences in Narnia after returning to England, while the Book!Pevensies have a notable emotional distance to their memories of Narnia
It's an explicit plot point in the books that the longer you stay in one world, the easier it becomes to forget about the other one (or think of it as a dream). Additionally, while the Pevensies do remember what happened and are permanently changed by their experiences in Narnia, they seemingly forget a lot of their Narnian-learnt knowledge and skills. This gets briefly mentioned in Prince Caspian, when Lucy talks about swimming:
When they had drunk from the well and splashed their faces, they all went down the stream again to the shore and stared at the channel which divided them from the mainland. “We’ll have to swim,” said Edmund.
“It would be all right for Su,” said Peter (Susan had won prizes for swimming at school). “But I don’t know about the rest of us.” By “the rest of us” he really meant Edmund, who couldn’t yet do two lengths at the school baths, and Lucy, who could hardly swim at all.
“Anyway,” said Susan, “there may be currents. Father says it’s never wise to bathe in a place you don’t know.”
“But, Peter,” said Lucy, “look here. I know I can’t swim for nuts at home—in England, I mean. But couldn’t we all swim long ago—if it was long ago—when we were Kings and Queens in Narnia? We could ride then too, and do all sorts of things. Don’t you think—”
“Ah, but we were sort of grown-up then,” said Peter. “We reigned for years and years and learned to do things. Aren’t we just back at our proper ages again now?” -PC, Chapter 3
So she learned how to swim while growing up in Narnia, but forgot it again when she returned to her own world and was back at her proper age. But the longer the Pevensies stayed in Narnia, the more those previously-learned skills came back to them:
This was real broad-sword fighting. The great thing is to slash at your enemy’s legs and feet because they are the part that have no armor. And when he slashes at yours you jump with both feet off the ground so that his blow goes under them. This gave the Dwarf an advantage because Edmund, being much taller, had to be always stooping.
I don’t think Edmund would have had a chance if he had fought Trumpkin twenty-four hours earlier. But the air of Narnia had been working upon him ever since they arrived on the island, and all his old battles came back to him, and his arms and fingers remembered their old skill. He was King Edmund once more. -PC, Chapter 8
The same general principle appears to apply to their memories and the emotions attached to them (which I think is one of the main reasons why Book!Susan is so easily able to dismiss Narnia as a "silly children's game" when she gets older). Narnia's magic protects visitors from feeling the pain and suffering associated with being de-aged/losing their home/etc when they leave Narnia by forcing a mental and emotional distance from their experiences, and they're only able to re-forge those connections once they return.
By contrast, the Movie!Pevensies are acutely and painfully aware of what they've lost by returning to England, and it dramatically alters the equation for everyone involved.
It turns the level-headed, loving, tired Books!Peter into the angst-ridden, hotheaded Movie!Peter who's constantly trying to prove himself. It turns Susan's story inside out, because it gives her entirely different reasons and motivations for possibly wanting to forget about Narnia and dismiss it as a "silly game." It gives Edmund a narrative reason to retain the massive character growth he'd experienced in LWW, act as the steadying rock in the siblings' lives, and feel like he has something to prove in VDT without Peter around.
And while I think Lucy remains the least changed between the books and movies, there are several added dimensions to her fully remembering her first fifteen years in Narnia that really start to peek their heads out by the time we get to VDT (particularly her desire to feel grown up and desired by the men around her; if she's truly feeling her age, I think there's an additional nuance to that plot that goes beyond the vanity and "she wants to be like Susan" dimensions from the book).
Do I think this accounts for all of the characterization differences? No. But I think it's a massively understated difference that doesn't get talked about enough as being a major driver of how differently the Pevensies act and react to things in the later books vs. how they act and react in the movies.
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torscrawls · 3 months ago
A King in Ghostling’s Clothing
This is written for Dannymay 2022 day 9 - Ghost King AU.
A frighteningly strong ghost appears in Justice League's midst and they find themselves powerless to fight back. Just when they think all hope is lost, something even worse shows up.
(Danny might have forgotten to tell them that he is the Ghost King and that the job comes with certain eldritch "perks")
Also available on my AO3!
“Tremble mortals!”
 The sudden and echoing voice boomed through the room where Bruce, Constantine, and Clark had met up to introduce Constantine to their newest member Phantom. At the unexpected interruption, Bruce tensed and saw his colleagues do the same. But before they had time to react further; the room's temperature suddenly dropped as the shadows seemed to stretch and grow. Dancing in the corner of his eye.
 And between one blink and the next—there was someone there.
A figure seemingly made entirely of shadow, accentuated by gleaming silver armor and purple fire that trailed behind him like a cape. The ghost—because Bruce was certain that it couldn’t be any other type of creature, not with that glow and those eyes—even though those hateful and blazing green eyes were a far cry from the familiar and kind eyes of their new teammate.
 Bruce felt himself break out into a cold sweat as the ghost spoke, voice booming and carrying with it an undeniable sense of dread, "You stand in the presence of the mighty Fright Knight."
 Constantine, usually so calm and collected, took a step back. What the fuck is the Ghost King's second in command doing here?!”
King? That most likely meant that this ghost was big news. And combined with the way Constantine’s voice had an edge of forced calm, it set off all of Bruce’s warning bells.
 Of course this happened now when they were still new at handling ghosts. They had gotten some ghost hunting equipment from Phantom, but most of it was currently in the Batcave where it was disassembled to be studied and replicated, and Phantom himself was still their ace when it came to fighting ghosts. And of course Phantom wasn't here right now. Luckily he was most likely on his way; they just had to stall for time. Hopefully the four of them would be enough.
 The ghost raised his sword high and Bruce actually had to steel himself to stand his ground. As the Fright Knight spoke, his echoing voice reverberated through the room and in Bruce’s very bones, “Where is the High King of all Ghosts?”
 Bruce glanced over at his teammates to exchange a quick look, but Clark shook his head and not even Constantine seemed to have an answer to the question. That… might prove to be a problem. Or if they played their cards right, maybe they could get him to leave?
 Since this was clearly a supernatural enemy and Constantine was the only one who had been able to identify, and therefore hopefully knew something about, their visitor, both he and Clark gestured for him to speak up.
 Bruce could see Constantine swallow before saying, “We—We don’t know where he is. You must have come to the wrong place.”
 “Do not take me for a fool, human! I know he has been here!”
 Constantine took a small step back. "I think we would know if we had met his royal highness, mate."
 Bruce’s hand clenched around his batarang.
 “Enough of your insolence!” And with those words, the Fright Knight swung his giant flaming sword.
 Constantine immediately jumped backwards to the edge of the room as he called out, "Don't let him hit you with the sword! It'll transport you to a nightmare dimension. Literally!"
 “Thanks for the heads-up.” Not that Bruce had been planning on getting hit. Despite knowing that it was most likely futile, Bruce threw his batarang, but it went right through the ghost who also took the opportunity to rise up off the ground and into the air.
 “Please stop fighting.” Clark was on the enemy in a heartbeat, or more accurately; through the enemy. Fright Knight didn’t even use his sword as he backhanded Superman frighteningly easily straight into, and through, the wall.
 Similar base power set as Phantom, then, even if the aura they gave off were completely different. Even so, Bruce knew better than to assume that was all their new enemy could do; Phantom had surprised them on several occasions with new powers, so it wasn't really news that other more powerful ghosts could have more abilities than the basic ghostly attribute they all seemed to share.
 And sure enough, from seemingly nowhere, a shower of small meteors started raining down from the ceiling; exploding wherever they landed. Bruce threw himself underneath a table close by and prayed that the metal would be strong enough to hold. He saw Constantine stumbling backwards as he swore, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” but before he could be hit by any of the flaming debris, Clark came back into the room and covered him like a shield, but to Bruce’s horror he saw the attack actually tearing up Clark’s skin.
 If the attack was strong enough to injure Superman, then Bruce knew that if he, a mere human, was hit he would be done for. The table he had been hiding under was absolutely demolished; it wouldn’t be able to withstand another attack.
 The overwhelming aura of malice intensified as Fright Knight raised his sword back up and declared, for the second time, “Tremble mortals!”
 And to Bruce’s absolute disgust, he did.
 Bruce knew that a lot of the research that painted ghosts as unfeeling and evil was wrong, but from his own encounters and research he also knew that Phantom wasn't really your typical ghost; acting and appearing more like a human teenager than a supernatural ghost. But as he looked upon this… this monster he didn’t wonder where those scientists drew their conclusions from.
 “Prepare to meet your worst nightmare!”
 Constantine raised his hands from his position hunched beneath Clark’s frame and recited something that did absolutely nothing.
 Bruce made a last desperate attempt by firing off a laser-based gun—maybe energy attacks would get through—but the ghost didn’t even flinch as it sizzled out where it hit his shoulder.
 They couldn’t fight him.
 Bruce had never felt so powerless before.
 He regretted that they had called Phantom in, he didn’t want their newest member to get dragged into this fight, but he didn't have any possibility to call him off now. The kid wouldn't stand a chance against this monster.
 Bruce saw Clark ready himself, no doubt to fly both him and Constantine to safety, but before he could take off, they all froze as the temperature of the room abruptly plummeted even further. Bruce breathed out a shaky breath and watched as it clouded in front of his face.
 The shadows, which had been restless since Fright Knight's arrival, abruptly darkened and twisted; pooling in one corner of the room.
 Fright Knight, seemingly unaware of what was happening, boomed out, “I have you now! You will not stand between me and my liege!”  And with that he manifested another shower of flaming meteors, this one even bigger than the last.
 He could hear Constantine from halfway across the room, “Fuck,” and Bruce couldn’t help but agree as the rocks hurled through the air and he braced for impact and—
There was a green-tinted shield covering both him and Clark and Constantine. That hadn’t been there before. Before he could do more than frown, there was a sudden searing light and another figure appeared in the room. And if he had thought that Fright Knight had an oppressive aura, then this being was on a whole other level as he could feel the pressure build up as soon as it appeared. This was something else
 The being seemingly sucked in all the light in the room, like a black hole, and as the room was plunged into complete darkness it was the first time in a long time that Bruce felt uncomfortable being in it. Even stranger; despite impossibly being even darker than its surroundings the figure could easily be made out by the light being given off by its silhouette, strong enough to make Bruce squint as he looked at it. He was uncomfortably reminded of an event horizon.
 The light the being gave off fractured and spread in the room as if it was shedding countless tiny stars and Bruce slowly backed up to avoid touching any of them. They slowly circled the figure—as if they were orbiting it.
 Bruce had no idea if the thing he was looking at could even be classified as a ghost. Or a person.
 Sure, its shape was humanoid and from what he could make out between the light and the darkness it appeared to have elongated ears and hair that wisped like white fog around its head, but what really caught Bruce’s eye was the crown resting above its head; multicolored and cloudlike. Like a nebula, continually expanding and contracting.
 A king.
 The being’s white glowing eyes shone bright like the sun.
 The whole appearance had happened in a heartbeat, and Bruce numbly watched as the meteors peppered the newly arrived being’s form. It didn’t even flinch
 Constantine swore. "You've gotta be kidding me! I didn’t think the King would actually—"
 "How dare you?!" The being spoke with a voice that made everyone in the room flinch. Bruce instinctively raised his hands to cover his ears as he gritted his teeth against the sound. It hurt.
 For a heart stopping moment, Bruce thought it had addressed them, but then the being turned towards Fright Knight with a growled, "How dare you?!"
 As it bared its teeth Bruce instinctively stepped back, stumbling into the wall. Something in his hindbrain told him that this was a predator and those teeth were sharp and big enough to make good on that title.
 In the blink of an eye, before Fright Knight had the chance to react, the being was standing over the ghost; hands glowing green as he towered over the crumpled form of the enemy that had brought them all to their knees not moments before.
 “How dare you hurt my friends?!” The being growled and Bruce flinched at the sound of its voice before taking in the words. It almost sounded as if it was scolding the ghost.
 As if Fright Knight was a misbehaving child.
 "My King. My liege.” And now Fright Knight almost sounded afraid. "They refused to tell me where you were."
"So you attacked them??"
 "I beg your forgiveness for my transgression. I never intended to—"
 "Get out of my sight before I change my mind. We will talk about this later.”
 "Certainly, your highness." And Fright Knight disappeared in a blink.
 Bruce didn’t feel relieved when the ghost disappeared as he looked upon this other being and knew they were screwed.
 But then the ghost—the being—turned towards them and beneath the glowing, oppressive aura, beneath the inhuman eyes and ghastly look, there was something… very familiar.
 Bruce could see it in the way the being suddenly looked sheepish, the way it raised an arm to rub at the back of its neck in a startlingly human gesture. The way it smiled—even though the mouth contained far, far too many sharp teeth for its size.
 "Hiya. Sorry for the scare.” And as he spoke, his voice lost some of the haunting echo. “And I’m so sorry about him. He can be a bit overzealous sometimes."
 And it did sound like Phantom, if he listened past the painful echo and warble.
 Clark blinked as he straightened out. "...What?"
 Bruce knew that Phantom was relatively strong and had a wide array of powers at his disposal and sure, Bruce had often gotten the feeling that he wasn't showing them everything he had, but this.
 “You’re late,” Bruce surprised himself by saying, trying to keep the sheer relief he felt out of his voice.
 “Sorry, sorry, I got held up on the way.”
 Constantine was watching the exchange with an open mouth and it wasn't until his limp cigarette fell from his lips and hit the floor that he seemed to snap out of it. “Wait, back up. You're Phantom?" Phantom nodded. "The new teammate Phantom?" Constantine turned to level a glare at Bruce. "The young ghost I was supposed to meet today, Phantom?!"
 Bruce held up his hands. "I didn't know—"
 Phantom cut in with a confused, "Yes? I think I’ve missed something here."
 "So have we!" Clark exclaimed, uncharacteristically agitated. Bruce couldn’t blame him. "What happened to you?" And here Clark gestured at Phantom’s form and all of its horrifying glory.
 Phantom looked down and seemed surprised at what he found. Or as surprised as it was possible to look when your face barely held any features that could give the expression away. "Oh. Right, I forgot. Hold on. Close your eyes for a second."
 There was another searing light and even though Bruce had closed his eyes, he was nearly blinded through his eyelids. As he blinked his eyes open, the familiar form of Phantom was floating in front of them instead; eyes back to green and ghostly glow dimmed to its usual strength. The crown was nowhere to be seen.
 "Talk about a costume change," Clark commented dryly.
 “Sorry about that, I know that form can be… unsettling.”
 “That’s one word for it,” Bruce grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.
 Phantom ignored him to turn his attention to Constantine. "Then I guess you’re Constantine! Nice to meet you." And he extended his hand in a casual greeting.
 Constantine stared down at it with wide eyes. “Are you shitting me? …Your highness.”
 "Oh, for the ancients’ sake," Phantom groaned. "Stop with the formalities. I get enough of that at the keep. I'm Phantom."
 Bruce had never seen Constantine speechless before. "Eh—I—Sorry. Yes. I’m Constantine."
 Bruce decided to end the poor man’s suffering and cut in with a terse, “So what’s going on here?” And besides; he didn’t enjoy being kept out of the loop.
 Phantom was back to rubbing the back of his neck, a light green blush dusting his cheeks. “I miiight have forgotten my lesson with Frighty.”
 “Frighty?” Constantine repeated incredulously under breath.
 “How come we’ve never seen you in that getup before?” Bruce asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.
 Phantom made a face of distaste. "I don't walk around every day in the whole getup. It would be like you walking around in fancy clothes every day at home.” Bruce decided not to mention that he essentially did that as Wayne.
 “And besides,” Phantom continued, “as you noticed it’s not exactly… pleasant for humans to be around."
 Clark grimaced with a nod, confirming that it may not only apply to humans, before asking, “And the whole king business? That’s true then?”
 “Oh, yes,” Phantom nodded, “I defeated the last king and won the title by conquest. I thought I had told you guys?”
 “You have not!” Bruce said in a very much not exasperated tone of voice, thank you very much.
 Clark nodded. “Yeah, I think you skipped that part.”
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theveryworstthing · 10 months ago
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more Carot cards, this time from the Traveler’s Suite. Carot is a simple ttrpg where you and your opponent play as the travelers you pull from the deck as well as the world that wants to absolutely wreck them.  each side represents a different rabbit family and each family has a litter of 4 kits. the game is a journey of a year where both litters go out traveling, and the goal is to get as many of your siblings back home as possible while trying to use nature and circumstance to merc your opponent’s bloodline. you play 4 seasons, a season for each rabbit, and these seasons are like short stories of what happens when you and your opponent’s traveler meet on the road.
games can also be totally friendly collaborative stories, but y’know. rabbits.
even though you play with 4 traveler cards each, there are 10 in all to choose from in a deck. here are 6 of those cards because i still need to finish the rest but i really wanted to post something for the first day of spooky month. these are like the standard/classic designs you’d see on cards but there are variations all over the place because rabbits sometimes make personal decks to play with.
if you were into shady divination stuff these are the ones you would use though.
not that anyone on the island is doing that.
here are some rough descriptions of each one:
The Wanderer: usually depicted as a cloaked rabbit carrying various bags and maps with dandelion seeds floating around them. their footprints are chaotic and distorted in reference to the fact that they never truly settle down and they face another, frighteningly familiar, traveler heading towards them on the road ahead who is smeared with blood. after all, those that wander all their lives have same destination as everyone else eventually. associated with dandelions.
The Orchid: the Orchid is usually depicted reclining on a tree stump by the roadside while flowering branches from other trees dote on them. their fur is lavishly dyed and wasp orchid flowers sit on their laps or are tucked between their legs (rabbits aren’t very subtle). nearby sits a book and a large bottle of refreshing liquid in reference to the knowledge, entertainment, cultural enrichment, and uh...hypothetical thirst quenching abilities of the trade. also usually some rocks shaped like butts or something in the background. rabbits. are not. subtle. and this is an indulgent card. associated with wasp orchids.
The Struggler: the Struggler is usually depicted as a rabbit covered in black armor studded with thorns and wearing a wolf-like mask. they carry a sword made of a giant wolf’s tooth and are being chased or nearly consumed by some shadowy thing with sharp teeth. they are always positioned between this thing and a field of small delicate flowers with swords lodged into the ground. this is a card of protection, strength, love, loss, having the universe try to literally bite you in the ass constantly, and is commonly linked to guard rabbits. associated with venus flytraps and wildflowers.
The Asshole: this fuckin’ guy. usually depicted as a punchable rabbit with blades pointed at them, posing as if performing for a crowd. they’re covered in wounds and falling apart but still going strong much to their enemy's’ annoyance. at least one hand is always covered in blood and held out proudly because they def did something to deserve this and they want everybody to see. just the worst. associated with burrs that get caught on everything you love and fuck you.
The Naturalist: the Naturalist is usually depicted standing in a clearing full of fruit, some rotted, some perfect. their clothes and horns blend into/resemble the plant life around them and they carry herbs, poisons, and teeth from other animals with them. a two headed worm eats fruit from their hand and chomps off a bit of them, usually a thumb. this is the card for rabbits who love nature with their whole heart but are also fully aware that it’s super gross and painful. like, really gross and really painful. but also? nice sometimes :) . an educational card. associated with various fruit in various states of decay.
The Mage: the Mage is...doin’ fine. this card is usually depicted as a rabbit standing under a fig tree full of black figs. their staff also has a halved fig with an eye in the center on top of it. they’ve got a few side effects from magical experiments and the tree is a little odd, but they’re doin’ fiiiiiiiiiine. mages are just freaky like that. associated with figs.
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stjarnaloki · 3 months ago
God, Squared (Thor x Loki x fem! reader)
semester is over. who's ready for some filth?
Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: 18+, restraints, slight degradation, unrelated brothers please be mindful. Tags: sub!:oki (ish), dom!loki (ish) thor is very tender, slightly dom!reader, use of restraints, lots of kinks, absolute filth, self-indulgent fantasy. reminder that reblogging is the best way to share fics and please don't repost. please enjoy <333
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You kicked the door to your room open in annoyance, flushed and sweaty and grumbling to yourself at the inconveniences of the morning. 
Upon arriving at the training room, you’d found your gloves and boots missing. Unlike a sword that you could go without for one day, you couldn’t exactly go barefoot into the sparring ring. 
The palace was nearly a 20 minute walk, but you’d run it in 10, panicking that there would be a surprise evaluation the one day you’d decided to forget your most important equipment. 
Except you never took your uniform out of the training grounds. Not ever. You certainly wouldn’t have taken it back to your room. 
Ah. As your foot found the door and your eyes fell on your quarters, everything suddenly made a lot more sense. 
The two banes of your existence, one blonde and one raven-haired, lounged on the armchairs by your window, long limbs and various bits of armor hanging off the armrests. 
“Did you hide-” you spoke immediately, but were cut off.
“Your gloves, yes,” said Loki, his green eyes glimmering of mischief. There was no other glow like the kind Loki got when he was being insufferable. 
“And are those my…” 
“Your boots, yes,” Thor finished, looking all too pleased with himself. “Taken by us to lure you back to the palace so we could fuck you.” 
You looked from Thor to Loki, and from Loki to Thor, your mouth slightly open from the audacity of them both. 
“Well done, brother,” Loki said. “She’s speechless.” 
“Fuck off,” you scolded, stalking over to try to grab your gloves from Loki’s hand. He vanished them instantly, tucked away in some hidden fold in reality that only he could access. You swatted him on the shoulder instead, and he grabbed your hips in response, pulling him down possessively on his lap. 
“She’s not exactly thrilled as you said she’d be, brother,” mused Thor to Loki, who had risen from his chair when you walked over. Always a gentleman, even when he was trying to get in your pants. “I must say I’m surprised, I thought we’d given you a wonderful time last week.”
Now your cheeks flushed. Loki’s hands were taught on your hips, and he’d begun to move your hair away from your neck. 
“I don’t exactly have the privilege you two have when it comes to ditching your duties,” you spat. “Might I remind you I’m not a prince.” 
“No, but a princess…” Thor said as plainly as if it were well-known that you were his sister, a fellow heir to the throne. It sent a shiver down your spine, one that you were sure Loki felt from where you quivered on his knee.
“Except I’m not,” you retorted. “I worked hard to become a warrior and every time this…happens I risk losing everything. You, on the other hand, would lose nothing,” you added with a heated stare in Loki’s direction. “I’d just be another body on your list.” 
Loki tsked, his turn to be petulant.
“Darling, you’re far more than a quick fuck in a dark corner,” he purred. 
“Wow, thank you so much Loki,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “The bar is incredibly high.”  
“Oh, hush…” said Loki. “We have a lot to lose, too. You’re the only one who’s ever been able to handle both of us…” he whispered the last words, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He let his hand linger on your jaw, and as if on instinct your hand nuzzled it closer. He smirked, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.
“Now kiss me, and make Thor watch…” Loki murmured, drawing your face closer to him by your throat. 
You let your lips fall within millimeters of his own before you denied him. 
“I don’t think so,” you whispered, and with a nip to his bottom lip, you grasped the hands at your waist and lashed them quickly behind his back with your belt, which you’d been sneakily unbuckling since he dragged you down.
“What-” Loki said, looking distraught.
“Change of plans, Loki, since stealing my things was your idea, I’m going to go fuck your brother,” you said as you left his lap, swaying your hips as you walked up to the blonde burly man. He always seemed to glow in sunlight, and this morning the rays that caught the braid in his hair made it look like spun silk. You turned around to look at Loki as you grasped Thor’s thick cock through his trousers, making his knees buckle a little.
“And you’re going to watch…” you finished, and a cry of protest escaped from Loki as he writhed where he was tied.  
Thor was round where Loki was angular, his deep blue eyes pools of kindness where Loki’s green ones were shrouded in mystery.  
“Gods,” Thor groaned as you palmed him again, the tent in his breeches straining against your hand. “Brother, she’s outdone you…”
You couldn’t reach his lips as you stood in front of his bulk, so you settled with basking in the adoring gaze that Thor was showering you with.  
“No she hasn’t,” Loki said, unable to hide his annoyance. “I could get out anytime. I choose to play along…” he said, his eyes flitting over you and Thor.
You walked back over to Loki and placed both hands on his knees, leaning over him so cleavage poked out of your tight training suit. His eyes flicked there and back to your face ever so quickly, his expression one of stony determination.
“Yes Loki, you’ll stay right here, won’t you?” you said. “You’ll stay here because secretly you like watching me fuck Thor. You like hearing me moan his name instead of yours, don’t you? You like feeling small, defeated, weak…second best.”
Loki said nothing, but his lips pursed in a silent rage. You smirked, undoing the zipper on his trousers so his cock slipped free. 
“Oh, my darling,” you crooned, stroking the shining tip with one finger. “So hard already.”
Thor was behind you now, trailing his hands up the curve of your waist as he kissed your neck, right in front of Loki. You let your head fall to the side at the gentle tickle of his beard, eyes falling shut at the sensation. You let him undress you tenderly, his thick fingers were always more delicate than you expected, and soon the two of you were completely naked, entwined on top of the white sheets. Your tongues tangled together and you swallowed each other’s moans, each knowing the other was being just a bit louder than usual because of the audience.
“Promise me, brother, you’ll let me taste her…” Loki moaned as Thor finally gave you what you wanted, stretching the thick girth of his cock into your entrance. 
“Perhaps…” Thor’s voice hitched as he settled all the way inside.  “But you’ll taste me there, too, brother,” he said, beginning to snap his hips faster, building heat and wetness between your legs. 
“Oh, Thor,” you cried. Something about the way Thor said “brother,” imagining Loki licking the essence of both of you between your folds, made you feel light-headed. 
“You’re so fucking dirty,” you gasped, pulling Thor’s mouth to yours as he hit your back walls over and over again, the girth of his cock pulling you apart at the seams. From the corner of your eye you saw Loki writhing against his restraints, bucking his hips into the air for relief that never came. 
“You like that?” Thor said back into your mouth, the question half-goading, half-genuine because even buried to the hilt inside you, Thor couldn’t help but check if you were alright. 
“God, yes, I fucking love it,” you cried. “More, tell me more.”
“I think-” Thor started, then was cut off by a particularly hard clench around his length. “Shit…Who do you think Loki wishes he was more? Me or you?” Thor rumbled with a smirk. 
“OH- ah-” you moaned, your nails leaving red ribbons on Thor’s brawn as his cock hit your cervix. “T-t-tell him how my pussy feels and then he can answer.” 
Thor kissed you sloppily, more of a gnashing of tongues and breath before he did as you said.
“Brother, - gods - she feels like silk,” Thor moaned. “The tightest warmth in the nine realms - fuck - I want her all to myself,” he cried before pulling out all at once, panting harder than before and tearing holes through the bedsheets with his fingers. 
“Don’t you dare…” Loki growled from his chair, nearly shooting venom from his mouth.
“Norns, brother, I almost came,” Thor ignored his brother as he panted, his eyes squeezed together in his denial of release. 
“No no no…” you whined, stroking his chest in an effort to calm him. “I haven’t fucked you quite long enough, Thor…”
Fresh fire sparked in Thor’s eyes with his name on your lips. He tossed a self-satisfied glance at his brother before lining himself up at your entrance once again. His cock pressed into you this time with a wet sound, exhaling all at once as your warmth surrounded him. 
Thor cursed your name to the gods as he began to move, your wetness drenching his balls and spreading on the sheets below you. 
“Loki…” Thor moaning his brother’s name felt like sparks in your cunt. “Would you like to see her ride me?” 
“Fuck you,” was all Loki groaned, but his cheeks were redder than Thor’s. Behind him, the restraints left his wrists red and raw from his desperate attempts of escaping.
“I think that was a yes,” you said, wrapping your arms around Thor’s neck. In one motion he rose to his knees and flipped you on top, his cock wedged inside you the whole time. 
You arched your back as you pressed yourself up Thor’s sweaty chest, fully aware of Loki’s eyes feasting on the curve of your ass. It thrilled you, putting on a show like this. You heard a strained fuck from where Loki was restrained, and you shot a smirk at Thor. 
One of your fingers reached down to circle your clit a few times. The result was exactly what you wanted; an overwhelming feeling of pleasure radiating from your belly, another wave of slick coating Thor’s cock and dripping down his thighs. 
Wetter now more than ever, you lifted yourself up ever so slightly, settling your hips back down onto Thor’s cock with a squelch. 
“Fuck,” Thor grunted through gritted teeth. “Brother, look at her. Look how well she’s riding me.” 
You tossed your head over your shoulder and bit your lip as you began to fuck onto Thor faster. Loki looked like a wreck. The shining red of his cock was spurting clear fluid and a giant puddle of it had formed on his stomach. His face was contorted half in rage and half in a daze. 
“Loki…” your voice was a sultry whisper, and you saw his cock jump on his stomach when you said his name. “You’re being so good, so patient,” your voice was a whine, and if Loki had his hands free he would have clapped one over his mouth to keep from screaming. Instead, he bit his lip until he tasted copper, the sight of Thor’s cock filling you to the brim nearly too much for him to handle. 
Wet slapping noises and Thor’s obscene grunts filled the room. Your moans were approaching feral territory, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t exaggerating them just a little bit to make Loki’s flush a little deeper. You couldn’t help it, the thrill it sent down your spine was too addicting. 
“W-will you release him?” Thor panted his question, grasping the small of your back with large hands to slow the rock of your hips. He was dangerously close to coming undone. 
“I wish for him to feel you before I ruin you…” Thor groaned with a shaky exhale, trying to ease you off his length. 
“Ah ah-” you resisted Thor’s strength with a delicate flutter of your cunt around his cock. His hands fell away and he moaned deep in his throat. “I want him to watch you come inside me, Thor,” you said crystal-clear, tossing an evil glance over your shoulder at the mop of sweaty raven-hair that had once been Loki, twenty long minutes ago before you’d fucked his brother in front of him. “Ruin my cunt, I’m begging you.” 
Thor looked dumbstruck. You’d never allowed him this before; it was always Loki you wanted to be filled with. 
“Are- fuck - are you sure?” Thor asked, but his eyes pleaded for permission.
“Yes, Thor, darling,” you purred, one hand rubbing the firm expanse of his bronzed chest. “Come inside me, please,” you rocked forward, feeling his bulge against the taught skin of your stomach. “Right here,” you said, taking one of his hands and pressing it into your low belly. When Thor felt himself move inside you, darkness flooded his eyes.
You heard a distraught, jealous groan from the corner of the room, and you knew you'd touched a nerve.
Thor's thrusts became animal, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your shrieks that threatened to break every glass surface in the palace. His cock felt like a wedge splitting you open, as if you were nothing but a piece of wood between his hands. You were about to splinter into a million pieces with the God of Thunder inside you, making a scene while his adopted brother wasn’t even allowed to touch you. 
The thought sent you over the edge. With a scream that ricocheted from your lungs, your cunt clenched around Thor’s cock, locking him inside you as every muscle in your body tensed. 
“Thor…” you moaned his name as you came, piercing his deep blue eyes as your cunt milked him in rhythmic flutters. 
A bolt of lightning flashed outside, rattling the entire palace. Thunder roared at the same time Thor exploded inside you, and through your white-hot pleasure you felt warmth coat your walls. 
With a heaving breath, Thor’s bruising grip on your hips relaxed a little. His cock twitched and sputtered inside you, the sheer amount of seed he had spilled in you already beginning to leak out. Thor let his cock slide out of you with a groan, white dripping from his tip and your slit. You felt deflated and limp from your orgasm, but a whimper from the corner of the room reminded you that you weren’t done yet. 
“Let me have him,” you murmured to Thor, and he understood. His knees wobbled a little as he rose, and Thor undid Loki’s restraint with one hand. The trickster was hunched over his aching cock, whining with the unfairness of it all. When his hands broke free, he stood up quickly, choosing to glimmer away his clothing instead of bothering with undressing. 
Loki approached where you lay, almost tentatively. How shocking was it that you made the God of Mischief so obedient? His eyes raked over your body, from the damp hair that clung to your forehead to the fingers in your cunt that plugged up as much of Thor’s come as possible. 
“Come here,” you drew him close with a crook of your finger. In an instant he was on top of you, kissing you like a man dying of thirst. You moaned against his mouth, not realizing how much you’d missed the sweetness of his lips. 
“Are you jealous?” you murmured when Loki came up for air. 
“You are…” Loki started, biting your neck hard enough to make you clench around air. “The biggest pain in my fucking ass…” he whispered into your ear, licking the spot he’d bitten to soothe it. “Insolent. Greedy.” 
You just giggled under Loki’s monstrous gaze. 
“Are you gonna let me fuck you now?” Loki growled, already stroking his cock with the copious amount of precome he was leaking. “Or do you have a line of suitors outside the door who have to spend in your hole before me?”
“Brother…” Thor said sharply from where he sprawled next to you.
“It’s alright, she likes it,” said Loki. “She’s our little slut, don’t you remember?” 
“Yes, my prince,” you said, biting your lips as a sign that Loki could now take whatever he wanted from you. Thor moaned again next to you, his cock sticking straight up again as he watched Loki line himself up at the hole he’d just spilled himself in. 
And so he did. Loki plunged into your overused cunt and gasped, the buildup and denial you’d put him through nearly enough to make the first silky squeeze of you send him over the edge. He grit his teeth and held back his seed, determined to bring you to a better orgasm than his brother. 
“Thor just warmed you up, didn’t he love?” Loki panted, curls falling over your face as he pierced you with green eyes. 
“Loki, let me touch her…” Thor groaned again. Not three minutes had passed since he slid out of you, yet here Thor was, begging to have his hands on you again. 
Loki grunted, possessive, but the way his cock quivered dangerously inside of you made him oblige. 
“Let’s make her scream, brother,” he said ruefully, angling his hips to hit the very back of your channel. Already the pressure was building, and with Thor’s thick fingers circling your clit, your moans soon became short and breathy. 
“Oh, fuck,” you cried. Loki’s brow was furrowing as pleasure rippled from your core to his cock. He was going to spill inside you, right where his brother had just done five minutes ago. 
“Come for me, sweet girl,” Loki murmured, the silk of his voice not matching the violence of his hips that was rocketing you forwards. “Come for your prince. Explode on me.” 
“That’s it,” Thor was saying, and your eyes flitted from blonde to black from tan to white and blue to green, and suddenly you were screaming Loki’s name, your back arching into the mattress as pleasure opened up inside of you once again. 
Loki tensed a second after you did, warm white filling your belly even fuller than it was before. Your mouths collided as he spent himself, and with his tongue in your mouth and his seed flooding deep inside of you, you’d never felt more full in your life.  
Loki’s arms shook and then gave out and he fell in a sweaty pile of black curls on your chest. A bronzed hand stroked his hair out of his face and you hummed into his neck, laying little kisses along his pale skin. 
“Thank you, love,” you murmured, soft enough that only Loki could hear. He raised himself on shaking arms to lick into your mouth, a slow and tender caress of his tongue that told you that he'd fucked away all his malice. Well, at least in the current afterglow. 
You dozed between them for awhile, and awoke still sticky between your legs with both brothers’ release. When you came to, they were both staring at you in transfixed silence. Thor traced the curve of your breast and Loki spread the folds of your cunt apart, watching the white seep out of you. 
“Boys,” you said in greeting. Two equally devilish smirks were returned. 
@mad4marvelloki @lokiprompts @littlepupthoughs
have I left you craving more? here is my masterlist and my twitter until next time!!!!
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wasyago · 11 months ago
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hermit hands :3 (some of them at least)
my rambling and details below
animal hybrids hands are all got 4 fingers, so Ren, Grian and Gem. Ren’s palm is more stretched and his fingers are shorter. he got pads and claws, because dog. Gem got strong and muscular arms, but small and round hands (partly because of the hooves). Grian is a parrot hybrid, so he got parrot hands (obviously). his fingers can be divided to thumb-pinky and two middle fingers to make gripping and hanging on things easier. the skin on his hands is hard and rough, and he has claws!
mumbo is a potato. maybe someone ate his fifth finger, maybe he always had four, I don’t know.
Scar’s hands are strong and calloused because of all the grind. he has a lot of scars, most of them old, some are new, some from hurting during building and work, some are from battles. his hands are also very warm, i’ve just decided.
wels hands are worn from countless fights and hours spent with the sword. I don’t really know how to describe it, but his knuckles are more visible and the skin between them is thin and rough. if you take his hand, it would be more dry and tense than soft. the scar on his palm is from gripping the blade of the sword with his bare hand. did he do it by mistake when he was young or was it the only way to save his life in the battle? we’ll never know. (and never see because he wears armor and glowes 24/7)
Stress’ hands look soft, but they are strong and experienced. like the hands of a baker. she got corns from all the hard work, but they’re not that visible because she takes good care of her hands and injuries.
Tango has big hands with long and thin fingers. which is pretty helpful when you need to work with redstone and tight little contraptions. the tips of his fingers and knuckles are red all the time from redstone (hopefully), and his hands are always cold.
Doc’s hand looks massive, but in comparison to the rest of his body it’s pretty small. his paws are soft and fluffy, he got pads to reduce the sound and no claws. perfect hands for big warm hugs uwu. but despite visible softness, he is still very strong, and can just swat you like a fly.
Pearl got really flexible fingers and hands in general. you know those people who can bend their fingers backwards? thats Pearl. her hands are also calloused and tense, but she got smooth and soft skin. (soft skin, not hands, it’s important)
X’s body is a robotic costume, but there’s his glove fot the size comparison. hes a big boy. there are pads on his palm, something similar to the pads on cycling gloves if you ever touched one. they are pretty worn and have a lot of scratches from all the work.
EX’s hands are small and soft, the pads on his palms are in almost perfect condition. it’s very obvious that the man hasnt worked a day in his life *smile*. or maybe he just takes good care of it, which is very unlikely
aaaand this is it! thank you for reading hdgshgs if you have any suggestions or headcanons for these or other hermits I would always love to hear them!!
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moonlit-imagines · 5 months ago
Half Trouble
Bruce Wayne x child/teen!reader
warnings: the batman spoilers, injury, death/murder mentions
a/n: are you guys proud of me for posting or what? (ps i changed this up a little bit so it just wasnt ooc)
prompt: anonymous: “Hello! Hope you’re doing good. Could I request a (Pattinson)Batman x child reader (platonic) one shot. where the reader is an assassin who has had training for their entire life (kinda like black widow). They’re sent to kill Batman. But when they’re fighting he manage to catch them of guard and knocks them out. He pulls off their mask and sees that they’re just a kid and feels bad so he brings them to the bat cave to stitch them up. When they wake up they’re still a bit guarded but he manages to make them explain everything and they tell him that they didn’t want to kill him but they had to or someone would kill them. Maybe it ends with him comforting them, offers to take care of them and keep them safe.”
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You stalked this city for its masked menace, the man lurking in the shadows doing more harm than good. That’s what you’d been told, and you knew better than to question it. Before the vigilante roamed the streets of Gotham, terrorism wouldn’t cross anyone’s mind on the average day, but now these people lived in fear of who this Bat would set off next.
That was where you came in. A preventative measure to eliminate the Bat from being any other madman’s trigger—permanently.
You noticed as a light suddenly shined into the sky against the cloudy, dark sky. His call, the signal of the Bat. He’d be here soon, and you’d be on the move to track it to the source, which didn’t take much effort as it did energy. Across rooftops and around buildings, you looked down on this city like you were taught to. Absolute scum, meant to be saved by a plan, not a suit. That’s why these people lived in fear, even those who had done nothing to deserve it.
You found yourself in the scaffolding of a nearby building in process, looking across the way to two figures beside the light’s source. Now, whatever call this man was supposed to answer would have to wait. Or preferably be cared for by their police force.
He descended to ground level in the elevator as you climbed down yourself, watching his cop friend take off before himself. And when there was an opening, you struck. He never even saw you coming as your foot came flying towards his face, but he didn’t ask questions before he began fighting back. At first, you were a match for him. Blocking steadily, you held your own just as you were trained to, then unsheathed your swords and revealed your intent, a kill. His armor had weak spots, points that were precise between slats of armor, it was all about timing.
You managed to get his shoulder, just barely, but his kick to your stomach sent you flying back. You looked up at the night sky—no longer calling for their hero—and hopped back to your feet as he stomped forward. “Lucky.” You growled while charging at him and sliding underneath his parted legs, kicking him back from behind. You smiled as he crawled back to his feet and raised your swords together behind him to attempt at a final blow, but not before he knocked you back with his grappling hook and gave you a good blow to the head.
Unconscious. Your superiors wouldn’t be pleased.
Batman kneeled beside you and ripped your cloth mask away from your face to reveal a youthful complexion, you were just a child. The Batman had just gone up against a child. And a child had nearly finished him off for good.
You had slight injuries from your altercation, a head injury from how rough he’d been neutralizing you, and he needed to make this right. He lifted you off the wet pavement and carried you around to his car, seating you in his passenger seat and restraining you as best as he could. He did not need you to wake on his way across town, whatever mission you’d been sent on would be completed to the best of your abilities, even if it meant assaulting him behind the wheel.
There was no way he’d be able to bring you back to his headquarters, his family name was plastered all over the walls and with someone like you, he’d be compromised in mere moments.
No, he had other places to go. In light of recent events, he knew of a vacant apartment that could be used to nurse you back to health. He knew for a fact it was still furnished, still stocked, and quite cozy if you could get past the smell of cat piss.
He stepped out of the car to open the garage, then parked the car within. Truth be told, it drew a lot of attention. Times like these called for a more discreet parking job.
You’d still been out cold, he checked just to be sure and carried you up the stairs to the lonely apartment, laying you in a squeaky old bed next to two sleeping cats who hadn’t got the memo yet, and restrained you once more to make sure you couldn’t strike immediately upon regaining your consciousness.
While you laid motionlessly, almost peacefully, in the room, Batman searched the bathroom for medical supplies his old friend left behind when she left town, and there was plenty to use on you, clean your cuts and ease your pain. That’s all he wanted to do, make this right. You couldn’t have gone on this mission alone and he knew it, he’d figure out just why you were given it.
He also gathered what amount of ice was left in the fridge and set it on the large bruise left on your stomach, frowning at the damage he’d done. A child with pain inflicted by him, it didn’t sit well with him at all. He didn’t know, but he didn’t care. There was pain inflicted before him by whoever forced you into this life, a horrible burden thrust upon you and you most likely wouldn’t even know.
He pulled a chair beside the bed and waited for you with a glass of water on the side table. The windows had all been covered as a precaution, he knew personally how easy it was to see inside. And now, he’d just wait. And as he waited, he watched. Just watched. Watched and waited.
Until you suddenly jerked awake and fought your tight restraints. He rose from the chair and tried to hold you still. “I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down.” He bluntly, and unconvincingly, assured. You wouldn’t stop kicking, and even began to scream, which forced him to cover your mouth. “Don’t make this difficult, I’m trying to help you. I injured you.” Once he felt you stop fighting, he slowly let you go.
“Then why am I tied up?” You asked him.
“In case you woke up and tried to kill again.” He described what you just did and you dropped your head into the pillow, noticing the throbbing as it fell. You clenched your jaw and stared at the popcorn ceiling, feeling immense shame for your current status of the mission. “I didn’t know you were only a child. Why are you trying to kill me?”
“You are ruining this city. That mask has ruined this city far worse than it had been before.” You explained, glaring at the masked menace. “I was tasked in your assassination to cleanse this city of your presence and bring back balance.”
“There’s no balance in this city. That’s why I’m here.” He offered you the glass of water, but you refused.
“You did not balance the scales of crime in this city, you tipped them in their favor. You are no better than the scum on the streets.” You spat at him, getting nothing, not even a flinch from him.
“What makes you any better?” He questioned and you began to wonder yourself for a moment. “You wear a mask, you claim to fight for the greater good, what makes you different?” Then you got it.
“I am not a symbol. No inspiration nor target. I merely complete my mission and move along.” You replied, slowly trying to slip your hands out of their bonds while he was distracted, but he knew what you were doing.
“And you think killing will help this city?” He asked.
“It will cleanse it.” You repeated the message drilled into your brain, but being in this situation seemed to be distracting you from your teachings, giving you an opportunity for free thoughts. You tried to fight them, but you’d really never had a conversation with anyone outside of your superiors. “I will cleanse it.”
“You’ll instill more fear.” He said just as one of your hands flew out of their binds and swung straight at his head, your wrist being caught firmly by his gloved hand and you struggled to come loose. “You’ve been doing this for a long time, I can tell. You’ve had no life.”
“Says the guy dressed like a bat.” You pulled against his grip, but once you stopped, he let go.
“How many lives have you taken?” Batman asked you.
“Forty-nine.” You said, a hint of shame within your voice.
“Did you enjoy any of them?” He questioned further, handing you the glass of water once more.
“That’s a stupid question.” You shot back, staring into the clear glass and wondering if he’d put something inside.
“It’s an important one. Did you enjoy taking any of those lives?” You stayed silent and took a sip of your lukewarm water, which told him what he needed to know. “I think you should stay here for now. You don’t need to be out on those streets.” He stood up and untied the rest of your limbs and you quickly sat up.
“Wait!” You said as he turned away. “I can’t. They’ll kill me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eye and kept walking, heading straight for the door.
“No, they won’t. I won’t let them.”
taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @wild-rose-35 // @alwaysananglophile // @ruvaakke // @vee-simps-a-lot // @girlmythlegend // @mowisdvdspecial // @diansaprince // @v0idl1nq // @theseawakes // @stitched-mouth //
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When all Hell broke loose Pt. 2
Warning: violence (fighting), angst, probably ooc Morpheus sorry
Kinda took me by surprise that ppl wanted a second part, but thank you! UHHH SO LIKE IM SORRY BUT THERE WILL BE A THIRD PART. FHKSHD DW THAT WILL (hopefully) BE THE LAST PART. I hope this is good and that yall like it! Im just happy that yall read and like them :)
Part 1
The sound of clashing was all that could be heard all around. Smoke, dust, and dirt filled your lungs and sight. The realm of the Dreaming was being attacked.
And you lie bound to chains, a prisoner. Likely to used for Hell’s purposes.
You cant even remember how you got captured… last you remembered was Lucienne dragging you along to keep you safe and… blank.
You look around groggily, trying to focus your on seeing around you. There were a good amount of demons guarding you.
Sure they were sickly looking, but you were mostly looking for THE Devil. The Morning Star.
When you saw no sign of them or their second, your next thought was of Morpheus.
Fuck, where is Morpheus? I hope he’s okay, i hope he’s alive…
Deeper in the land of the Dreaming, at the core of the battle was the King of Dreams, fighting with his creations alongside him.
Morpheus had a goal: Find Morning Star.
What would happen from there was still yet to be decided.
Up in the sky, trumpets could be heard. Dream looked up and on came Lucifer like a comet.
The crash could not be avoided fully, and all those in that radius were thrown aback. Take off balance, and now the battle field was in favor of the Devil.
“Morpheus, at last.” Lucifers melodic and deceivingly kind tone was heard.
Morpheus stood taking a few steps away from the King of Hell.
They stood elegantly and all who knew better admired the beautiful Fallen Angel. They adorned shining red armor which matched well with their wings which were out stretched to further express their dominance on the field. On their hip laid a long sword, Morpheus eyes drifted to it and took notice of how Lucifer had an already tight grip on the swords hilt.
“Lucifer, what do you think you’re doing? A war, do you grasp what this entails?” The diplomatic King of Dreams began his attempt to understand the reason for the sudden attack.
“Oh yes, I do grasp what this entails entirely. And this is no mere war, Somnium,” Lucifer gradually started to pick of their pace toward Dream. “Hell is taking over your realm. I plan of relieving you of your Endless duties.” With that Lucifer began to strike at Morpheus.
Morpheus having already expected what what Lucifer’s answer would be was already on the defense. He dodged the first jab of Lucifer’s flaming sword.
As Morpheus dodged the attack, he summoned a weapon of his own that would be fitting. An longsword that had a blade out of a divine type of obsidian that was smooth and sharp at the touch. The King of Dreams wore attire suited for battle, light but enchanted clothing, all black of course.
The strikes didn’t stop, Lucifer was dead set on beating Morpheus this time. The King of Hell was not to lose in a battle such as this. Lucifer was going to win.
Morpheus was not going to lose this battle in his own realm. He countered Lucifer’s attacks with his own, he fought and he would fight until he could not. He wasn’t weak as he was during their match in Hell, he now was fueled with his full power and with you in the realm he would keep this strength. He wouldn’t lose to Lucifer. He wouldn’t lose his realm. He wouldn’t lose you.
And he couldn’t lose you since, Lucienne made sure you were currently safe. Morpheus would fight without that thought lurking behind in his mind.
“Morpheus, you’ve gotten stronger!” Lucifer breathed as they circled Dream as if he were prey.
The King of Dreams was not intimidated by this, and he would not indulge Lucifer in banter that could distract him during a fight.
“Oh don’t be like that, the least you can do is play along!” Lucifer was confident, they took this one on one as a game and not a battle for the realm of the Dreaming.
“This is no game, Lucifer. You come here intending to take from me what is mine.” Morpheus growled but he would not make move until Lucifer made theirs, the devil could not be trusted.
Before Lucifer could take another move, Mazikeen shouted “My Lord!” And gathered the Devil’s attention.
The devil’s second whispered something to Lucifer. Which then was good news for the Shining One, but not Morpheus. The devilish smile that was growing on Lucifer’s beautiful face, caused Morpheus a pinch of worry.
“It seems we’ve captured something important of yours?
These words meant nothing to Morpheus, but then the worry had already been established and it began to eat away within Morpheus.
No… they’re safe, they’re with Lucienne. It cant be them..
If Morpheus had someone to pray to, he would be doing so right now.
“Mazikeen, why don’t you show the King of Dreams our trophy?”
Mazikeen called into the hoard of demons, and then the sound of dragging and chains was heard until that of what was to be was revealed.
Morpheus felt himself tense in anger and fear. He could create more than was one could imagine, but this is was something that even be never wanted to imagine.
You lay on the ground on your knees; hands, neck, and feet chained.
“Now you see, I wasn’t sure you had a weakness but now, now I’m quite sure Ive found it. They’re like a key to the Dreaming.” Lucifer concluded, eyes shifting slowly from Morpheus to you.
Lucifer walked nearer to you and Morpheus began to close distance between he and the Devil. As he did, Lucifer raised their sword to your neck, all you could do was silently gasp in fear and shock. This action stopped Morpheus and he was still again.
“If you want my power you can have it, they hold only a minuscule of the power ,” his jaw tensed, “just- just dont harm them, please…”
You don’t know how long it had been since you came to but you were still on high alert for Lucifer. The last thing you wanted was to be at their wrath.
Far beyond in the hoard of demons and the battle you heard loud clashing and booming, louder than the rest of the battle.
That must be Morpheus, you thought.
Its then that you noticed a demon walking toward you. It grabbed your jaw and moved your face to get a look at you. It’s force was strong, and eyes beautiful behind their helm.
“Fuck, they got lucky. At least they were competent enough to get the right target…” the demon spoke to itself.
“What- who the fuck are you? What are you planning to do?” Important questions reached the demon, but it would give you no answers as to what their goal was.
It was then they left.
Shit. Shit. Shit. What the fuck am i gonna do now? I can’t get out of these chains.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a different demon came up to you and grabbed you by the chains and started dragging you in the direction that the first demon left in.
When you were finally done being dragged you looked up and your eyes locked with the man of (your) Dreams.
Had he already lost? Were they going to slowly torture him by showing him all they can take from him in his realm?
You heard a beautiful voice speak, your eyes turned to the speaker. They could only be who you could assume, the King of Hell. And near them was the demon that cane up to you first, their second you again assumed.
Your eyes met wit Lucifer’s, and you felt fear like no other. As the Devil turned their eyes back to Morpheus, so did you. Your eyes now met with Morpheus’, you felt sadness like no other. You knew how this was going to end, with either you or Morpheus being stripped from the other. And you hated that.
Your love for the King of Dreams, you knew as one sided, but the look he had on while looking at you made you doubt your belief on how you thought Morpheus felt for you, what if he does care for me like i do?
A sad thought, it was like you were torturing yourself.
Then Lucifer made move toward you and Morpheus followed suit wit intention of taking you back. But Lucifer was not going to let that happen. Their sword, no longer flaming at full power, was dangerous close to your neck. Silent tears began to well in your eyes from the fear and shock that was running throughout your body.
Then you heard Morpheus speak,
“If you want my power you can have it, they hold only a minuscule of the power ,”
Wow that’s a bit rude, you thought. And if you did hold such little power as he said then why did he keep you around? He was bluffing, right?
his jaw tensed, “just- just dont harm them, please…” Morpheus begged.
Your eyes widened, Morpheus begging? That’s… he won’t even apologize most of the time!
Lucifer let out a a breath of disbelief. “Im a bit taken aback, they hold so little power but apparently they mean much to you, why else would someone so prideful as you beg?”
They had a point.
“But since you say they aren’t important, then they have no purpose as a prisoner.” Lucifer raised their sword forward ready to re-extend their arm to decapitate you.
Morpheus wouldn’t let that happen and lunged to attack Lucifer. This did interrupt Lucifer but not entirely as Mazikeen also jumped in to stop Morpheus.
Now they fought with you sitting on the side lines, trying to fix your frantic breathing.
“What. The. Fuck.” You breathlessly say
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bookhousestark · 3 months ago
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Served Roose Bolton as a cupbearer but didn’t trust his men
She might have been able to trick a Frey or one of the Brave Companions, but the Dreadfort men had served Roose Bolton their whole life, and they knew him better than she did. If I tell him I am Arya Stark and command him to stand aside… No, she dare not. He was a northman, but not a Winterfell man. He belonged to Roose Bolton.
Freed the northern lords
"Vargo Hoat's come back with prisoners. I saw their badges. There's a Glover, from Deepwood Motte, he's my father's man. The rest too, mostly. You have to help me get them out."
"I need you to help me get those men out of the dungeons. That Glover and those others, all of them. We have to kill the guards and open the cell somehow—" 
"I want you to save the northmen like I saved you."
A highborn captive of the Brotherhood Without Banners
"We have sore need of horses, milady. Armor as well. Swords, shields, spears. All the things coin can buy. Aye, and seed for planting. Winter is coming, remember?" He touched her under the chin. "You will not be the first highborn captive we've ransomed. Nor the last, I'd hope."
"I do not know who you are, child and it may be that's for the best. Someone important, I fear. In times like these, it is better to be insignificant.”
Political marriage to House Frey
Elmar could be friendly when he needed help, but afterward he would always remember that he was a squire and she was only a serving girl. He liked to boast how he was the son of the Lord of the Crossing, not a nephew or a bastard or a grandson but a trueborn son, and on account of that he was going to marry a princess. 
Ramsey Snow’s ‘bride’ // Valiant Ned’s precious little girl
"Lord Ramsay." The girl dipped down before him. That was wrong as well. The real Arya Stark would have spat into his face. "I pray that I will make you a good wife and give you strong sons to follow after you."
Old Whoresbane is only here because the Freys hold the Greatjon captive. And do you imagine the Hornwood men have forgotten the Bastard's last marriage, and how his lady wife was left to starve, chewing her own fingers? What do you think passes through their heads when they hear the new bride weeping? Valiant Ned's precious little girl.
Executes a deserter of the Night’s Watch
Dareon is dead. The black singer who was sleeping at the Happy Port. He was really a deserter from the Night's Watch. Someone slit his throat and pushed him into a canal, but they kept his boots
And the singer should be on the Wall.
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squidos-goodies · 3 months ago
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SO I WAS THINKING ABOUT LINK’S AWAKENING— *record screech* WOW that got a lot longer than i thought it would so it’s under the cut now
tl;dr what if link’s awakening is actually the wind fish’s attempts to bring legend back from the brink of death and marin is, one way or another, a personification of the healing that he does on koholint so remembering her also becomes remembering that he can survive anything and even heal from it enough to move forward.
okay so idk what most people’s headcanons for why the wind fish yoinked legend are but i always assumed it was because legend had just been STRUCK BY LIGHTNING and was either dying from that or actively drowning. and then i started thinking about how you start with three hearts in link’s awakening and, like every other zelda game, get more hearts, better armor so you take less damage, and just generally grow stronger. while that is basic game design, i also like the narrative idea of the fact that legend is on the brink of death and this world that the wind fish built is half reminder of everything he still wants to do/has to live for (more adventures and falling in love, hopefully) and half metaphysical allegory for his recovery to help his barely-conscious brain keep track of what’s going on. right now i’m thinking that the nightmares are also a legitimate threat to the wind fish, being a creature of dreams and all, so it really does turn out to be a mutually beneficial relationship where they save each other’s lives. under this interpretation, as legend helps save the wind fish and protect mabe village, he’s also strengthening his spirit like those silent realms in skyward sword (his is less murdery because he’s half-dead okay give the kid a break) so by the time he’s gathered all the instruments of the sirens, he’s actually grown and healed and is now ready to wake the wind fish and face the real world.
anyway, this whole lens of looking at LA through made me think of marin as either like the manifestation of legend’s love/sense of adventure/optimism/anything he’s at risk of losing if he gets too jaded or as some persona the wind fish has kicking around (a character it made up? someone else whose life it tried to save but couldn’t so it did the next best thing and let them live on in its dreams? who knows) whose sole purpose at this point is to help heal any strays the wind fish happens to pick up. either way, marin becomes a manifestation/personification of the healing legend needs to do to survive this and her request to remember him is in part also a request to remember that he survived this so he can survive anything. marin becomes a symbol of hope and courage and someone he can think back to in his darkest hour to inspire him to move forward and i liked that interpretation a lot!! (total shocker, i know) and then these drawings were born!!! their goodbye becomes incredibly bittersweet (but more sweet than bitter) as marin fulfills her purpose and legend is now finally strong enough to wake up and return to the real world again. if we go under the first interpretation of what marin is, legend is also waking up with the knowledge that marin will always be with him as long as he never loses that spark of joy (though option two has her living on in his memories and that’s how she exists in the wind fish anyway so she’s still kind of always with him).
anyway that was my needlessly long ramble about link’s awakening headcanons to help explain this art i made. have a lovely whatever-time-it-is-for-you, friends!
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago
i love you Roo! and this is not a request, but.. is there a King Shelby roaming around in that dark brain of yours?
A taste, if you will.
Seeds of Rebellion
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Warnings: implied noncon, intimidation, some violence.
Your sister quivers in your arm as she weeps, your own face wet with terror as the men drag furniture down the steps and toss it on the heap of oak, velvet, and anything that will take to the cinder. Anything that shines, brass, copper, silver, and the coveted pieces of gold, are sent to the cart as armored men mill about with their prizes.
You sniff and wince as your nose throbs and you wipe the trickle along your lip. Celeste won’t stop. She just keeps calling for your mother and you can only muffle her cries in your bodice, swathing both of you in your father’s cloak. You try not to look at the scarlet stain in the dirt and roll your eyes as another wave of tears rises.
“Shhh,” you hush her, “do not look weak. They will not be any kinder.”
“Mama,” she sounds like a child and you pity her. She was the elder and yet here she was, warbling like the infant she oft accuses you to be.
“Celeste,” you bat away droplets with your lashes, “please, the men are looking at us.”
You turn your back to the soldiers as you try to shield both of you. Suddenly, you’re thrust off your feet as the cloak is yanked from behind you. You choke as you let go of your sister and sprawl in the mud, the laces pressing into your throat as the tugging continues.
“Stop!” Celeste lunges and grabs the knot at your throat as you gasp and try to get your fingers under the leather, “you’ll kill her!”
“As traitors’ daughters should be,” the gruff man pulls again as you finally untangle the tie and the cloak flutters away from you, “aye, we should have every bit of you naked to the lord’s eye.”
“Arthur!” a clink of armor sounds from the top step as Celeste helps you sit up, “I told you to guard those ladies, not ravage them.”
The king, Thomas, wears a crown of silver, peaked with rubies, though they are grimy with muck and tarnish. You touch your tender throat as your sister helps you stand. You cough and lower your head as Celeste does the same. You’re shaking now too.
“They are young, they had no hand in their father’s plot,” he declares as his steps approach, “return the cloak and lend your own to the second.”
“You’re mad,” the lord called Arthur, the infamously cruel brother, scoffs, “it’s fine fox–”
“Not ermine,” Thomas counters, “you wear a knight’s title so perhaps you might wear his manners too.”
Thomas snatches the cloak and nears you. He pulls it around your shoulders as you stare at your stained slippers and streaked skirts. He ties it and turns again, drawing the cloak from his own brother’s mantle and draping it across your sister in kind.
“Which of you is the eldest?” he asks.
Celeste sobs and reaches for you. You gulp and exhale as you build your nerves. You stare at the king’s gauntlet, still tinged with the hue of your father’s blood.
“I am the younger,” you supply, “your majesty.”
“I would’ve had it the reverse,” he says, “second daughter’s are often considered little more than orphans. There’s no place for them.”
“Your majesty,” you eke out as your throat constricts.
“Without a son, your father’s estate passes to her,” he reaches out and drags his finger along Celeste’s trembling chin, “which means we only need marry her to someone loyal to the crown. A war is not at hand, it is far too expensive.”
“Please,” Celeste warbles, “please, your majesty–”
“I have a young lord in mind, lady,” he takes her hand and raises it to his lips, gallantly kissing her knuckles, “Lord Gray, you might sight him by the fire amusing the others with his swordsmanship.”
You glance over and see a younger man in armour, spinning a sword as if it is nothing, acting as a jester for those around him who chuckle.
“So that leaves us with you,” the king lets Celeste go and steps before you, “the convent is always in need of another habit…” he grabs your jaw and forces your head up, the scaled metal cutting into your flesh, “but my bed is more in need of warmth.”
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chromes-corner · a month ago
Hi hi!! Since requests are open! Can i request then Dark Choco cookie x reader wedding headcanons?? Your writings are so fantastic aaaa 💞💞💗💞😊💗💗 ily nh and wish you happiness <33
I have LITERALLY been thinking about this request for days. It started out pretty simple, but then I started writing and everything started snowballing and I got ENTIRELY CARRIED AWAY WITH IT because this prompt is just CHEFS KISS. I’m in love yesss thank you for letting me write some cute ass shit I love weddings bro heart eyes
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Dark Choco/Reader
Notes: fluff wedding headcanons that are kind of in a story type of format but also not really but who even cares it’s cute
Content Warnings: none
A/N: this one escaped me and now it’s long oops also I wrote and edited it on my phone after midnight (when the best writing comes out) so hopefully the fuck ups are very minor lol
“I’m getting married.”
Dark Choco turns this phrase around a dozen times in his head. He even tries speaking it to himself aloud a few times. Not once does it ever feel right on his tongue.
Even as he stands at the altar, it still feels entirely unreal to him, like he’s caught up in a dream.
Prior to the event, he spends a very long time preening himself in front of a mirror. Is his tie crooked? Is his suit wrinkled anywhere? Is his collar too tight, or is he just nervous?
^^He also fusses about his scarred eye, trying his best to distract from the marred area by adjusting his hair, which now falls a few inches past his shoulders. The last minute self-consciousness about his physical flaws hits him hard.
Dark Choco has never actually worn a proper suit and tie before, but apparently Vanillian weddings call for one. He doesn’t think he’d be much more comfortable in traditional Cacao wedding attire, however.
^^Despite the apparent lack of metal plating, the suit still feels heavier than any armor he’s even worn.
He had to get help from his uncle, Pure Vanilla — who’s also officiating AND hosting the wedding, to boot — to tie his tie correctly.
If Dark Choco got his way, there wouldn’t even be a ceremony. Big crowds make him nervous, so the two of you decided to only invite close family and friends. Dark Choco still didn’t bother to invite anyone, however.
Now, waiting before Pure Vanilla and the small crowd of patrons in the Vanilla Kingdom chapel, Dark Choco takes a break from his dizzingly repetitive monologue on realizing his current circumstance to take in the guests.
He recognizes some of your immediate family, as well as your close friends. As his gaze sweeps the room, however, he suddenly feels very faint.
Milk and Purple Yam sit together, mingling with Pistachio and White Choco — friends that he hasn’t spoken with in what seems like an eternity. Surely you never knew these cookies, so why are they here?
Avocado — who forged his new, non-cursed sword — and Caramel Arrow are seated together as well, deep in conversation.
His aunts chat together and sneak little glances his way. Hollyberry waves at him when she catches his eye, and Golden Cheese gives him a wink and a thumbs up.
After giving the gathering a good look, he almost doesn’t notice it as he starts to avert his gaze back down to the floor — at the far edge of the pews sits a single dark, lonesome figure, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt.
Dark Choco makes eye contact with his father for a mere moment before he snaps his head away in shock. He entirely misses the tired but proud smile Dark Cacao gives him.
Just when Dark Choco begins to feel like he’s been standing at the altar for an eternity, the chatter dies and heads starts to turn.
Seeing you walk down the isle makes him feel like the floor has lurched out from beneath him.
By the time you step up to stand with him, adorned in your wedding attire, Dark Choco has already made several escape routes in his head. Those escape routes, however, find their own escape routes from his mind when you take his clammy hands in yours.
“You— you look— your— it’s— I—”
“You look nice, too,” you whisper. Your eyes dart to the guests. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited some people on your behalf. This is your wedding, too, you know.”
“You—? T-thank you,” he says quietly, squeezing your hands and looking to the floor. He looks you in the eye again with intense sincerity. “…Thank you.”
The ceremony seems to last a mere few seconds. You exchange vows (his are short and blunt, basically “thank you for marrying me and not getting tired of my trauma-riddled ass”), and Pure Vanilla joins the two of you in holy matrimony, asking the Divines to bless your partnership.
When Pure Vanilla presents you with the rings, they look a little different to Dark Choco.
One ring is ivory, and the other is ebony. Each depicts one of the Dragons of Dark Cacao folklore, and each are wound into the shape of a ring in an ouroboros. They are studded with intricate steely markings, and their eyes are minute silver diamonds.
“I hope you don’t mind the trade-off from our old rings,” you say, bringing to mind the plain silver bands you’d agreed upon months before the ceremony, “but your father had these specially forged for us.”
Dark Choco slipped the ring depicting the white Dragon onto your finger, and you donned his ring finger with the black Dragon.
The ceremony concludes, and it’s off to the reception — it’s less of a party and more of a nice dinner.
You can take the man out of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, but you can’t take the Dark Cacao Kingdom out of the man. Dark Choco keeps one tradition from Cacao courtship — he presents your parent(s) with a hand-woven bundle of licorice, shaped into an intricate, loopy design. The gift is meant to represent the strong bond cultivated between the newlyweds.
Dark Choco shares a dance with you. He’s nervous at first, and his two left feet don’t help, but once he hears a familiar minty violin melody, his shaky movements become a little more confident.
He sits out on the dancing for the rest of the night, and he catches up with some of his long lost friends who also aren’t privy to dancing.
You share a brief dance with Dark Cacao, who genuinely thanks you for making his son happy.
Hollyberry and Golden Cheese bicker throughout the night about who’s kingdom their nephew and his new spouse will spend their honeymoon. The women will not stop their arguing until you compromise and tell them you’ll visit both. Hollyberry is quick to announce that she’ll be the one to arrange transportation for the two of you, and Golden Cheese counters that she’ll be the one to fund you with coins to spend through the vacation.
The two of you also make a (reluctant, on Dark Choco’s part) plan to briefly visit the Dark Cacao Kingdom as well, but you decide to make it a surprise for Dark Cacao.
As the party dies down and the number of guests begin to dwindle, you notice that Dark Choco is nowhere to be found. Milk tells you that he saw him leave not too long ago, so you quietly slip out yourself.
You find him in the greenhouse, sitting before a dense bush of white lilies that are illuminated by a slat of moonlight. His tie is loose and limp, the top few buttons of his shirt have been undone, and his hair looks like his hand has been run through it a few times.
He simply tells you that he had one last person to tell about his recent life-changing news.
The greenhouse is peaceful and quiet, save for the muffled buzz of the party down the hall.
In the privacy of the flowers, he silently stands and asks for your hand, pulling you into a close and gentle sway.
The lilies are the only beings to bear witness to the tender affair. They agree to keep it a secret.
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