#but i hadnt planned the sword

[warlordfelwinter]

being dm is fun because it's impossible to plan everything or predict what players are going to do and sometimes they just Gift you situations and sometimes during those situations you have a seredipitous realization that allows you to put a lord of the nine down under the column labelled Active Enemies of the Party

[lukespookie]

sweetheart. | luke castellan x f! child of ares!reader

about - "i need you more than i want to." - camila cabello

warning - smut, all characters are 18+, petnames, oral (f receiving), luke is MEAN. brat taming sorta kinda maybe

a/n - guyssssss i luv enemies to lovers im gonna SOBBBBB anyways i hope this is good lmao

here you two sat. in mr. d's office while he yells at you for fighting again. it wasnt even in a in trouble way, more of a shut the fuck up and get along kinda way.

but it wasnt your fault!!

it all started when you were training. you were extremely upset since luke had, once again, beaten your team at capture the flag. you had such a good plan too!

then, luke just had to come on over and brag.

"you look a bit tense, sweetheart. don't tell me your upset that we won?" luke smirks from behind you, making you turn around.

"you only won because you cheated." you say, your eyes squinting.

from there, it basically turned into you insulting each other back and forth.

you hadnt always been like this. there was a time when you two were the best of friends. but you were driven away by your siblings since the ares cabin and hermes cabin hated each other

so now, here you were getting chewed out all because luke is cocky!!

"you two are both banned from capture the flag until next month." mr. d says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"what?!" you and luke say in sync.

"luke started it! this isnt fair!" you groan, standing up from your seat.

"how did i start it? you're the one who started being rude!" luke argues. the two of you ramble on and on before mr. d gets fed up at kicks you out.

you and luke walk outside of the big house, burning in anger. leave it to luke castellan to ruin your month!!

his stupid handsome face is always getting on your nerves! and what annoys you the most is that you cant stop thinking about him.

mostly at night, when you touch yourself in your bedroom. luke is who you think of. but who can blame you?! hes just soso hot when you spar, sweat dripping down his forehead and his chest heaving. :(( his veiny arms tense as he holds his sword and swings it with ease.

and gods, his lips!!!

"you started it!" you repeat, annoyed that he was blaming it on poor lil you!! :((

but, thats when you get a genius idea. you had to find a way to put luke in his place, and thats what you had.

as a child of ares, you had the power of telumkinesis, the power to curse your opponents' weapons and transfigure any object into any weapon. you could also change the weight of your opponents weapons, which is exactly what you planned to do.

"we could settle it with a spar?" you sugest, shrugging to look as natural as possible!!

"you're on." he smirks.

you get dressed in your camp half-blood shirt, cut and fitted to be shorter and tighter, and some jean shorts. you throw on your super dirty, red converse and grab your sword, walking to the arena to spar.

you see luke and look down at his hand, holding his sword.you stop walking and.. okay, how does this shit work?

you stare at the sword, focusing only on that and eventually lukes arm drops a bit and he brings his sword up to his face and examine it. it worked!!!

you walk over, feeling as confident as ever.

"you okay, castellan? you look a bit stressed out." you smirk, making him snap around to face you, a scowl on his face.

"what'd you do to my sword, daughter of ares? dont think im dumb." luke snaps, making you scoff.

"i dont know what you're talking about." you shrug.

luke looks around before snatching you wrist, his grip tight as steel as he drags you into the forest.

luke ignores your insults and protests as he pins you to a tree, his hands on your waist and him towering over you.

"not so strong now are you? hm?" he growls, grabbing your face.

"l-luke.. this isnt funny.." you whisper, stomach twisting into a billion knots. "wasnt tryna be" he mutters, grabbing your sword and throwing it gods know where.

"so fuckin' pretty when you're not talking." he sighs looking at you for a moment before connecting your lips.

he kisses you sloppily, not caring to try to use skill. you're stunned for a moment before you kiss back, kissing with as much desire as him.

he pulls away. "shit, can i?" he breathes, making you nod rapidly.

he unbuttons and unzips your jean shorts, tugging them down and letting them pool at your ankles.

"gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart." he mutters, kissing your cheek before he kneels down in front of you.

he rubs his thumb over the wet spot on your panties with a groan, making you shutter.

"you're soaked." he smirks. he pulls your panties down and your pussy is connected to it with a string of wetness. "fuck, who knew you were such a whore?"

he digs in, lapping at your swollen clit like a starved man. your hands find their way to his messy curls, tugging as hard as possible out of spite.

he slightly pulls away. "don't tug so hard." he mumbles, arousal all over his chin. you push his head back into your cunt, moaning when his nose connects with your clit.

he thrusts his tongue in and out of your hole, making you cry out and tug his hair hard. "pull my hair like that again and i'll stop." he warns.

you quickly move your hands to his shoulders, not wanting him to stop eating your cunt.

he goes back to pushing him tongue inside of you, your moans and cute noises egginng him on.

"fuck, luke! dont stop, dont stop." you cry out, back arching off the tree.

he pulls away, breathing heavily onto your cunt. "im not baby, im not."

he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it.

"luke! cant, its too much!" you sob, trying to push his head away. "you can take it. you'll take it."

your orgasm crashes over you, shuttering as luke licks it all up.

he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

you notice the prominent tent in his pants, making you frown. "what about you?" you ask, looking up at him.

"just gives me a reason to see you again." he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 14

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; mentions of scars (edit: im a fucking idiot i forgot they talk abt scars at the start of the chapter) and like… brief dottore mention, so u know it’s icky. also u guys will be mad at me.

notes ; AHHH!!!!! I LIVE!!!!! oh gosh so many hectic life events lately….. i hadnt been able to get my hands on this dang chapter for so long

anyhow, i was planning to publish this one early like a day or two ago with a reference to an arlecchino voiceline that was THEN a leak and not out yet, so i’m glad i waited and developed this one just a little more LOL

also good luck with everyone’s arle pulls!!! (better luck than mine i hope ;w;) just like childe and the reader at some point, WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS ‼️

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“agh— be more gentle!”

“i’ll be more gentle if you stop flinching away. you’re a war machine who can turn into an abyssal beast, withstand how draining it is to use it, hold your ground against a champion duelist but you can’t handle a little cotton ball soaked in alcohol?”

“well there’s no adrenaline anymore to remedy this sting, now, is there?”

it’s almost comically reminiscent of your meeting with childe back in zapolyarny palace, where he got himself hurt just to come tell you that he was to leave for liyue— feels like it was ages ago. childe leans against the elegant marble counter of your hotel room’s bathroom, pile of bloodied cottons and tissues piling by his hands, while you clean the fresh wounds he’s just acquired from clorinde.

from how much he flinches and hisses, the wounds almost seem grave… but they’re no more than a few scratches, slashes and bruises. after his witty remark, you can only attribute his absurd resilience during battle to the mentioned adrenaline— otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as he has with those reactions of his.

“so did you get what you wanted from that spar? how was it in comparison to your other tries?”

childe pauses thoughtfully and proceeds to pout.

“…i think she was still holding back. i need another spar.”

“gh-! are you kidding?! childe tartaglia ajax, i am not letting you resplit the forehead i just fixed up anytime soon.”

he sighs melancholy like a grounded child, but nods in agreement anyhow. childe’s eyes remain downward, he mindlessly fiddles with the hem of your shirt as he awaits patiently for you to finish tending to his wounds. once you finish, you scan him up and down to certify that you’ve taken care of everything, until your gaze is caught by his scars.

his war medals.

he’s got an insurmountable amount of them scattered all over his body and not one is like the other— some are large lashes most likely caused by weapons like axes or claymores; some are finer lines caused by swords or daggers; a few of them even look like different types of burns, likely the work of varied elemental catalysts; and some look like small stars or circles, probably the result of arrows or the tips of polearms.

the inches of his skin that his scars don’t cover are littered with the tiniest specs of freckles… ones you’ve barely had the privilege to see over the years as a result of living in eternally cold lands. it’s only been since you’ve both been to warmer regions like liyue, inazuma and now fontaine that you’ve began to notice them.

and you’ve found that the intricate, graceful tapestry that childe’s scars and freckles weave is… gorgeous.

it’s so uniquely mesmerizing that you nearly struggle to find a worthy comparison within words or the world around you. the closest one would be to a starry sky— you imagine that his freckles become the stars that remain stationary and furthest away in the night sky, small and bountiful, while his scars are the shooting stars that flash by in a vivid explosion of light.

it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

you’ve realized that you’re less afraid to admit this to yourself now. perhaps spending so much constant time with childe after such a while of misencounters and diverging schedules, has made you become more comfortable around him— to the point where you barely minded him childishly playing with the hem of your shirt. it feels fine, domestic even… almost in the same way that a coup—

“hey, why’re you staring so hard? am i not gonna make it, doc?”

you flinch as you’re snapped away from your train of thought, taking in how childe’s eyes flicker worriedly over your face. unfortunately, your mind isn’t freed from the grasp of your thoughts of… admiration and your gaze quickly flies over his scars once again. the delicacy of the moment, unexpectedly, fuels you with enough confidence to raise forward a hand that lightly grazes a particularly eye-catching gash on childe’s neck— the stretched healed skin ever so slightly bumping against your digits.

“nothing… j’st looking at your scars.” you answer absentmindedly.

beneath your hand, you feel his adam’s apple raise in a hearty gulp. next, childe inhales deeply and exhales a shuddered breath, as if an attempt to ground himself.

“what about ‘em?” he whispers expectantly.

“i like them.”

it’s as if you’ve gotten the liquid courage of a drink while being entirely sober, you’re surprised that you’ve done so much as let yourself say that out loud. though perhaps… that bewilderment might just be your downfall— within the thought, you notice just how close you and childe stand before each other. he leans against the bathroom counter in only the deep red undershirt of his uniform, eyes laser-guided onto your every move while you’re only a hair’s length away from him. his absurd height doesn’t help the moment either, as he’s forced to hunch over and his figure arches forward into you— it’s suffocating.

you can’t allow yourself to crumble and panic right now, it would absolutely destroy you for the rest of your life, so you opt to breathe deeply. childe watches intently as you do and returns it with his own deep sigh, one that you feel hit your face warmly the moment it leaves his lips and so it further capitalizes on just how obscenely close the two of you are— to the point where you breathe each other’s air.

childe’s piercing azure eyes move from matching your own to slightly further down on your face…

to your lips.

“yeah?” he mumbles in the most delicate tone possible, it’s not like you’re too far to hear anyway.

it’s an inexplicable magnetic pull that brings you the smidgenmost closer to him, it has to be so. it must be that same pull that brings you to look at his mouth— plump and pink, likely still store from the split at the corner of his bottom lip. and there’s no other possibility other than that damned magnet as to why your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, childe’s shyly snaking around your waist in response.

you don’t feel like you’re in a bathroom in a hotel room in fontaine anymore, you don’t feel like the seconds pass anymore. it’s a pocket between space and time that has enveloped the two of you, away from everything else.

and there’s nothing in this world left to do other than to lean just a breath closer to each other… just a little more and—

knock knock knock knock!

you flinch away faster than lightning, heart thudding ironically like thunder. childe also seems to have been entirely spooked by the knocks on the bedroom door and he pretends to bring his hand up to scratch something on his face, but you know very well he means to hide his glaringly flushed face— you know that because you do the very same, only you briskly step away to open the door instead.

outside the room, two fontainian officers greet you, though they seemingly go wide eyed for just a brief second as if you’re not who they expect to answer.

“forgive me, friend, this is… mr. tartaglia’s room, is it not?” one inquires.

you frown in suspicion, and you plan to not directly confirm the question as to pry exactly what business two policemen would have with childe. unfortunately, the devil decides to announce it himself by coming up behind you, arms crossed defensively.

“and what might be the problem, officer?” childe asks pointedly.

both officers simultaneously eye the two of you, the blushing idiots opening the door together, and proceed to share a knowing look. the first officer sighs while the second clears his throat awkwardly.

“we apologize for… intruding so abruptly but— mr. tartaglia, you are currently being suspected of being the culprit behind the serial disappearances of young women case. for the time being, you are under arrest and must face trial at the opera epiclese to make your case.”

…what.

“what?”

coincidentally, both you and childe exclaim at the same time— though, childe’s tone is rather condescendingly skeptical while yours is laced with pure, unadulterated shock.

the harbinger scoffs. “well, i can very confidently tell you right now that i didn’t do it.”

yeah, great way to clear any and all suspicion, man.

frustratedly pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to help you process the last five seconds, you sigh.

“i-i think what he means to say, officer, is that it’s not plausible for him to even be a suspect in this case. i mean— if i remember correctly, doesn’t that case extend for over twenty years? we’ve only been in fontaine for a few weeks! you can check our travel tickets, they’re dated. plus, we haven’t done anything even remotely disruptive while we’ve been here, both of us have multiple reliable alibi’s regarding our whereabouts over the past few days, and—“

the officer puts up a dismissive hand, effectively interrupting you. “please, leave this for the iudex to hear.”

a metallic jingling catches your attention and you see that the second policeman wordlessly produces handcuffs from his tool belt, the panic bubbles in your throat even further. childe’s shoulders visibly tense and it’s clear that he’s intent on fighting back— with once again lighting fast reflexes, you put a hand on his shoulder and throw him a warning look as a means to discreetly impede him. childe sighs frustratedly but ceases anyhow, allowing himself to be guided out of the room. out of pure illogical desperation, you chase after.

“don’t say anything hostile or stupid until we find you a lawyer! i promise you i’ll be right behind!” you call out as the three are at the other end of the hallway and catch a final look from childe, the emotion behind it is indescribable.

your chest feels overwhelmingly tight.

—

who knew such a resplendent room could be so suffocating.

it feels as though you’ve been waiting for an eternity and the intended comfort of the opera eplicese’s waiting room only serves to unnerve you more. the most important person in your life has just been abruptly accused of being a serial kidnapper and you’re supposed to indulge in sickeningly sweet pastries and tasteless tea? it’s almost derogatory.

your leg has become sore from how much it bounces restlessly, your nail plates scratchy from how much you fidget with them, all the paper napkins on the table sloppily folded into failed paper stars. none of it helps.

you can’t even decide what to worry about, all of it swirls and spirals in your head like a rumbling tornado. is he okay? are the officers treating him well? who will defend him? will he go to prison? for how long? when in the tsaritsa’s name will arlecchino retur—

the door slams open and you jump, partially with the abruptness of it and out of sheer panic to get some news on the situation. your heart starts palpitating again and it takes everything within your willpower to seem more put together in front of the knave.

“s-so?” you ask with an uncontrollable shake in voice.

“it’s invariable, childe must face trial and defend himself. we can only count on the factuality that he is innocent and the oratrice will say accordingly.”

you sigh, at least… whatever in the archons’ name constitutes that machine is infallible.

“the trial starts in five minutes.” arlecchino adds curtly.

you nod and allow yourself to take a deep, grounding breathe before standing up to leave the waiting room. as your hand reaches out to the doorknob, there is a firm grip on your shoulder. you turn ever so slightly to find a pointy-nailed, stark black hand holding you back— another moment to analyze the hand reveals to you that… that’s her skin. black.

a chill runs down your spine.

“allow me, for a moment, to ask a selfish question in exchange for a selfish answer, sargeant.” she stands, voice dark and menacing. “as an asset of the doctor’s… do you share his ideals?”

the question takes you off-guard but it also… doesn’t. you’re not an idiot— you’ve heard of dottore’s letters to the house of the hearth suggesting the, err.. ‘rejects’ be sent to his custody so he can further his experiments. you remember how utterly appalled you were when you first came across the information. if the knave truly cares about the children in her orphanage, it’s no wonder how tightly she grips your shoulder, sharp nails just a breath away from breaking skin.

and so she asks you selfishly, a question not of loyalty but of morality.

dottore’s face flashes before your eyes and your hand subconsciously tightens into a fist, expression hardening.

“if his life were in my hands, i’d crush it in a heartbeat.” you whisper bitterly.

the grip releases you and it’s as if air is easier to breathe after that. arlecchino wordlessly steps ahead to open the door for you and gestures for you to leave first, expression neutral as if nothing had happened.

the courtroom looks like no courtroom at all, rather you feel as though you’re about to watch an opera in a grand theater— the rumors about fontaine seem to be true after all. in the rows of cushy seats, people whisper and gossip endlessly until you find yourself a seat and the booming sound of a gavel being struck echoes through the court, all sound ceases.

“court is now in session for the case of serial disappearances of young women, today we will hear both the prosecution and defense’s arguments regarding mr. tartaglia of the fatui’s alleged involvement.”

a baritone voice echoes through the silent courtroom, the direction it rings out from reveals a white-haired man in proper blue robes, sitting in a balcony that floats above the courtroom’s stage. you recognize him as the iudex, the chief justice, monsieur neuvillette. his tone is elegant and intellectual, with complete considerate professionalism—- its cadence almost reminds you of zhongli in a sense. but that’s not all that reminds you of zhongli… you can’t quite put your finger on it though.

what follows is merely formal introductions from the prosecution and the defense and you take the opportunity to become distracted and ponder over just how catastrophic your morning had turned out. it all happened so quickly too— one second you were… ah… canoodling with childe and the next he was being escorted out the room by law enforcement. had you been cursed by the gods? would they be so cruel as to make every peaceful moment in your life just merely bedding for the next major inconvenience? would they be so frustratingly taunting as to let you get that close to the one you have feelings for only to rip you two away from each other right afterwards?

“it would appear i must repeat my question, mr. tartaglia.” neuvillette says firmly, catch your attention and breaking you from your daze.

“do you accept the charge that you are the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case?”

“to be perfectly honest, i don’t understand your country’s complicated court systems, or the reason why i’m being charged with something i’ve never even heard of.” the harbinger answers bluntly.

“however, i did hear that people who have been charged can choose to participate in a duel to clear their name— is that right? in that case, as long as i accept the charge, i can have an all out fight with that champion duelist clorinde, right?”

…

how can the supposed love of your life be this stupid?

“when i privately sparred with her last time, she was obviously holding back… real disappointing.”

“hey, don’t you understand? you’re currently the prime suspect for a major case! this isn’t the place for you to be looking for fights.” a female voice calls out from the balcony directly above where you seat— while you can’t see who it is, you can only assume from the bossiness of her tone that it’s lady furina herself, the hydro archon.

“oh? sounds like the hydro archon wants to lecture me on the ways of the opera house…” childe taunts. “then why don’t you duel me too? i’m the kind of students that learns best in the heat of battle.”

you’ll kill him, oh you’ll kill this idiot one day… does he want to rot in prison for the rest of his days? this time you truly cannot hold yourself back from subconsciously standing up in panic, limbs urging to get up there and try to amend the situation yourself by arguing like a normal, sane person— but the judging stares of the other spectators hinder you glued to your seat out of sheer embarrassment.

“alas, it would appear that communication with the defendant is going poorly, and we have made very little progress.” neuvillette intervenes. “in that case, let me explain everything from the very beginning again. the goal of this trial is to determine the culprit behind the serial disappearances case—“

“that case had nothing to do with him! you’ve got the wrong man!”

huh? …who said that? did that not come out of your own mouth? seems like something you’d blur out… instead it comes from a flamboyantly dressed blonde woman who bursts into the courtroom at that very second. to you, she nearly seemed angelic in the moment.

“miss navia, this is the second time you’ve interrupted the court proceedings. i only tolerated your behavior last time because you were able to provide the court with a key eyewitness. but that was exception rather than standard court protocol— i can very well charge you with contempt of court for your interjections.”

“oh please, did you ever think i had any respect for this place’s pointless theatrics?” navia scoffs.

“we can put aside that discussion for now, i’m not here to argue with you. i’m here to charge the true culprit behind the serial disappearances case. and if my charges prove true, the tartaglia here will be proven innocent by default, correct?”

neuvillette proceeds to dismiss childe from the stand to make way for navia and allows him to seat in the audience and you feel like you should owe this lady your life. childe’s eyes scan through the seats and when he spots you, he visibly lights up and beelines to the seat next to yours.

“challenging the hydro archon? really?” you whisper playfully.

childe contains himself not to laugh loudly. “can’t say it wasn’t worth the shot.”

it’s as if a wordless conversation settles between the two of you, silent glances and deep sighs that express the mutual hopefulness for a good outcome of this trial. after a solid few seconds of staring at each other like fools, childe’s gaze drops down, you follow it to see his gloved palm sat in the armrest between the two of you— it faces outward in an invitation. your hand joins his without thought and the second your skin registers the warmth that radiates from his hold, it’s like an electric shock runs through your veins. one so buzzing that makes you two simultaneously face away from each other to hide your burning cheeks.

you’d like to pretend that you’re paying attention to the trial, but the ever so gentle squeezes childe hand gives yours periodically seem to take up all of your focus and cause it to short circuit. suddenly, there’s another burst of the courtroom’s doors and there stand the traveler and paimon, because of course they’re somehow also involved in this.

“naviaaa, we’re back!” paimon calls out.

“as expected of my partner! i just knew you’d come back in the nick of time!”

“just how often do you intend to flout the rules of this court…” neuvillette mutters disappointedly.

the traveler’s appearance contributes new evidence towards navia’s favor, who expertly disperses all of the oppositions statements. the culprit is revealed to be a man by the name of vacher, who was intent on bringing back his dear vigneire to the point where he began dissolving innocent young women with primordial seawater. as overtly ridiculous as fontaine’s spectacle culture seemed to be, you couldn’t say that watching this trial play out wasn’t extremely entertaining.

but speaking of innocent…

“at this point, the verdict of this trial is clear. with mr. marcel’s conviction, the charges against mr. tartaglia no longer hold any basis.”

you giddily look over at childe, who seems as aloof as someone who didn’t worry for a second. your fingertips tingle with excitement and you can feel the stress evaporate off your shoulders in real time. neuvillette summarizes the entire case once more and submits the verdict to the oratrice— the machine hums loudly and flashes a blinding blue, producing an envelope finally confirming his guilty status. much to unspoken disappointment, childe lets go of your hand to stand with his chest proudly puffed up.

“well now, hasn’t this been the most delicious piece of drama? the villain has been caught, justice has been served, pas wrongs have been righted and it’s a bit ol happy ending… since it’s been such a great show, i’ll just let the false accusations against me slide. either way, i’ve still got some business to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me—“

the harbinger looks back to offer you his hand once more and you happily take it before childe begins to lead you two out of the room. unfortunately, the guards at the doors of the courtroom remain unmoving as they block the doors and you frown in confusion.

“please wait just one moment, mr. tartaglia.” says the iudex.

“oh, what now? none of this has anything to do with me.” childe groans.

“according to court protocol, since this trial was initiated due to a charge against you, a verdict must also be made regarding the initial charge before the trial can conclude.”

you sigh out of selfish frustration, but opt to respect the proceedings anyhow— it’s not like the verdict will change now. childe, on the other hand, voices his annoyance like a petulant kid.

“please respect the laws of fontaine. this has always been the rule.”

“it’s fine, we’ll just have to wait here a few little seconds more.” you whisper to childe coaxingly.

he sighs. “alright alright, but this has been a lot of hassle. all i need is to stand over there, right? let’s just get this over with…”

“through evidence presented in the public trial that was just held, it has been established that mr. tartaglia has no direct connection to the serial disappearances case. the guilty party has been established and thus, it is logical to suppose mr. tartaglia is innocent of the charges.”

the machine whirrs once more, stirring some curiosity within you as to what exactly makes it tick or give accurate verdicts at all. as the envelope reaches the chief justice’s hands, he seems to stutter for a moment as he reads it. neuvillette’s ever so stoic face falls slightly into a vexed frown and he hums in confusion.

“according to the judgment of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, mr. tartaglia is— guilty.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[vxlentinescookies]

This is a sequel of the previous Dark Cacao one were they fought and everything

Things have calmed down now, the awkward moment has open space for some time, peace and some further talks

But Dark Cacao has come into term with a little something

He likes Reader Cookie: (use any pronouns) are/is strong, resourceful, agile and very skilled, he could see so much potential, and it's a surprise to find someone who not only knows their way in a fight, but ALSO can match HIM

He wants to ask her out, the issue is: how!?

He was not a single clue, time to ask his soldiers for advise I guess?

Maybe even contact hollyberry?

(To resume, this is Dark Cacao finally knowing he likes Reader Cookie, asks others for advise to ask them out and fails miserably, but Reader Cookie is so amazed at the brave [though failed] attempt that decides to give the idea of a date a try)

→ ❛Between the sword and your opponent, pt. 2❜

→ Pairing ; Dark Cacao Cookie x Reader → Quote ; ❛❛It surely didnt go according to plan but, to say Hollyberry, who had been listening intently from behind one of the pillars, wasnt satisfied, would be an understatement.❜❜ → Genre ; Drama , Romance → A/N ; This was very fun hahah, pt 1 is here!

Its been a good few days after the incident, the one where you shamelessly flirted with Dark Cacao in the middle of a fight. To say the king hadnt been thinking about it was… an understatement, he had thought about it, quite a lot. It had leaked into his daily like like the growing vines of grapes, and in return, they were twisting and shaping around his brain like a deadly respite. This, paired with the following talks you both had about the help the kingdom of Rose Champagne wanted to offer to the kingdom of Cacao, and the inevitable flirting that came with your personality, Dark Cacao seemed to inevitably start falling in love. It was a force of nature he didnt expect, that he didnt take in consideration, but as time passed, he realized that these feelings were ever present, and that there was no way he could keep them hidden.

Love, for Dark Cacao, was something he had long since given up on. He no longer seeked it, and he no longer expected it, especially after the falling out with his previous wife and the loss of his son, that he still deep down loved dearly, he no longer felt he had a place in the grounds of love, therefore, he simply stayed on his own place, allowing himself to be moved by the currents of life while focusing on the current moments with his kingdom, his subjects, and the war ever present with Dark Enchantress Cookie.

Thats perhaps what made this moment the more jarring to him, to be flirted with after he felt unlovable, after he felt undeserving of being loved—And then, the fact that his heart was starting to beat with fervor and energy yet again, for someone he once hurt unintentionally… It put his mind and heart at a standstill, confused as to how to proceed, confused as to what to do exactly.

“Damn, sounds like you’re deep in the trenches of love, old friend” Hollyberry would tell them once Dark Cacao sought them out for help, after all, out of all his comrades, the hollyberrian was the most capable when it cames to matters of love.

“Sigh, Im just, confused as what to do… I’ve given up on love a long time ago…” He said, looking down for a few moments, before turning back at her.

His hands were tainted with blood, and his mind haunted by the warriors long lost in the wars the cacao kingdom had been part of, not to mention the small guilt that followed him for having fallen in the trap that was Affogato’s tricks. He sighed yet again, because then there was you, someone hurt unintentionally by his hand, even if he was under the tricks of the snake, he still felt like he owed his people something. 

“Oh c’mon, rid yourself of that long face, Dark Cacao!” Hollyberry would snap him of his thoughts, as she’d laugh heartily “Its clear what you must do, you must act upon your emotions!”

“Act… Upon my emotions?” He felt like he stayed in square one, unable to think of what exact way to move thorough this new challenge. “Right, but, how exactly?”

“You speak as if you hadnt been in a marriage once!” She spoke yet again, frowning for a moment before patting his back lively, and perhaps a bit too strongly “Fret not! What you must do, is confess and ask her out on a date! Dosent that sound logical?”

Right, a date… If only he wasnt rusty in these themes, perhaps the idea would’ve seemed more appetizing, but as it stood, he was confused and didnt know exactly what to do or say. Hollyberry, noticing this, would just sigh and shake her head, she thought Pure Vanilla was THE challenge in the ancient’s groups when it came to love, but Dark Cacao? Now he was winning second place.

You had been resting in your quarters, quietly taking a nap when it happened, a soldier knocking on your door causing you to wake up startled, and once the door opened, you would look confused at the soldier in question, looking at you with seriousness as he spoke the words sent by his majesty. He was requesting your presence in the throne room, words that left you dumbfounded as you brushed hair out of your face before nodding. You didnt put much thought about it, as you dressed to come see Dark Cacao in the throne room.

Walking towards the castle suddenly felt colder than usual, and your steps felt heavier, as if you were expecting something bad to happen, but thinking about it, the worse that could happen would be Dark Cacao shaming you and sending you back after your constant flirting… which didnt seem to be the case, if anything it did seem quite… out of character? The king didnt seem to be that fazed by your flirting, so… But on the other side, you could be expecting the end of the trip as he declared that all was well, and that the Cacao Kingdom would continue relations with the Rose Champagne Kingdom… Not really out of character and far more viable… still, if it were to be the case, why were you hesitating? Why were you feeling so heavy? Confused, you simply approached the door before stopping.

Were you, were you falling in love? No, there was no way, there was simply no way that you were falling in love with the King of the Cacao Kingdom, was it…?

“Your majesty, I’ve arrived…” You spoke as you finally took a step inside, bowing in front of the king, before he’d dismiss the other cookies in the room, letting you both alone in the room. “Is there, something you wished to discuss with me?”

“Yes, ahem… (y/n) cookie, there are some matters I must get to… involving you”

You lifted an eyebrow as he spoke, his nervousness apparent as he left the throne and walked towards you. Each step felt dangerous yet filled with a certain sense of unknown that scared you in some way. Yet you persisted, until he was right in front of you.

“Will… Ahem… Will you go on a date with me?”

“Huh?”

Now it was your turn to be taken aback. You stared at him dumbfounded as you felt all your worries and fears fade away into the dark. He looked at you curiously and you simply coughed before looking at him, smiling.

“... S-Sure, I dont mind!”

“You dont have to if you dont want to…”

“No-No, I do want to! Lets go on a date!”

It surely didnt go according to plan but, to say Hollyberry, who had been listening intently from behind one of the pillars, wasnt satisfied, would be an understatement.

[biggiedraws]

okay i just finished rewatching fma brotherhood and can we please talk about how fuckin 15 ed is. like lots of anime protagonists are 15 but ed is *so* 15.

like- he needs to disguise the car so he makes it into a 15 year olds idea of a really cool car, and its so cringe the adults force him to change it. he makes ling a sword and puts a little skull on the handle (for literally no reason except that he presumably thought it would be cool, even though they were in the middle of getting their asses kicked by envy) and then gets defensive when ling calls it lame. he gets riled up unbelievably easily over NOTHING. his fighting style is scrappy- hes experienced but not disciplined, and he'll use whatevers on hand to get the job done. he'll mess around in the middle of a fight, use unnecessarily flashy moves/weapons, and hes just generally a nuisance in combat. he gets really flustered when people insinuate that winry is his girlfriend, and then when he DOES confess to her 2 years later he uses a fucking alchemy metaphor because hes a NERD.

im saying all of this with affection by the way- hes a cringe 15 year old because 15 year olds are cringe! i feel like most of the time these high school age protagonists are basically just adult characters with more naive ideals, or theyre a bit more emotional, or they have "childish" interests. ESPECIALLY with these high stakes action-adventure stories, where the fate of the world is in their hands. but a kid can have the weight of the world on their shoulders and still handle their emotions poorly, act recklessly, goof off at inappropriate times, and generally think and act in a way that adults wouldnt. and still be mature and competent characters! i mean, ed is a GREAT protagonist. he has a full understanding of the stakes and he knows how and when to get serious. but he also does shit like breaking into a secret government laboratory, alone, in the middle of the night, with no plan, and nearly gets himself killed in the process. because hes a reckless kid! and if he HADNT done that, they never would have found out the enemys plan in time!

and its just so perfectly executed- instead of childish traits being sprinkled on top of adult problem solving and emotional regulation, him being 15 informs how he acts all the time! sometimes this is a good thing because he solves problems in a unique way, and sometimes it causes even MORE problems. its a fundamental aspect of his character that contributes to both his strong and weak points.

and my absolute favourite part is that hes still treated like a person worthy of his title and reputation- not only by the adult characters, but by the narrative itself. but he isnt treated like an adult either! the adults around him dont talk down to him, but they also dont have adult expectations of him. theres a whole bit about how the adults shouldnt stand by while the children are on the battlefield- insinuating that while the children are worthy of standing on the battlefield alongside them, they also feel some responsibility to lead them since theyre the adults. which is super reasonable! its probably the best take on adult mentor figures for child main characters ive ever seen.

and yeah theres an argument to be made that it was pretty fucked up of mustang to recruit ed to the military at 12 years old. but he was super upfront with him about what it would entail and didnt force him into it. so watching it as an adult, yeah, its fucked up. but the target audience is kids and thats how kids want to be treated! yeah its a lot of responsibility, but ed knew that going in AND he has a huge support network of trustworthy adults who are looking out for him. hes fine. and hes DEFINITELY better off than most high school age protagonists, who are just sort of thrust into high stakes, life-threatening situations with little guidance. the dynamic is less "you are The Chosen One who will singlehandedly save the world" and more "i mean you certainly have the skills and we really appreciate you working with us but what the fuck is a child doing in the military. who authorized this?? youre going to get yourself killed PLEASE be more careful!" and like. if youre gonna have a show about a 15 year old saving the world, then thats definitely the way to do it.

and what really seals the deal is how pissed ed gets when people treat him like a kid. thats the most 15 year old thing ever! he FEELS like hes being talked down to and disrespected just because hes not given the same expectations and responsibilities as the adults. watching it as a 20 year old im super impressed by the way the adults treat ed, but i can also understand why ed gets so frustrated. its the nature of being a teenager and thinking you can handle more than you can. which really just solidifies how fuckin 15 he is

btw im not saying ed is the only well written teenager in the show. hes just the clearest example- hes so LOUD about who he is and it makes it really easy to talk about his character traits. also hes like my favourite character ever and i just have to talk about him. so like al and the rest are also really convincing kids, and a lot of this stuff kind of applies to all of them! im just talking about ed because i want to lmfao

[emmastarr999]

So I was thinking about the "I'm a demon. I lied" line. Because it's easy to remember the "just an angel/demon that goes alone with heaven/hell as much as he can" parallel, but there's another line that gets repeated twice in the minisode, right?

And the thing that got me thinking is, the first time, well, it wasnt true. When they meet Job's children and Crowley goes "Im here to destrroooyy you all" (10/10 delievery would watch again) and Aziraphale is all "but you said you wouldnt kill them!" and Crowley delievers the first "I'm a demon, I lied" line.... he doesnt kill the kids. He hasnt been lying.

So later on, when Aziraphale confronts him about the lonely line, and Crowley admits to having lied about not being lonely... What if that, too, wasnt exactly a lie?

One thing that didnt sit right for me, with all this talk about lying, is that season 1 Crowley made a point of never having lied to Aziraphale. I cannot exacly remember the line but it was something like "when have I ever lied to you?" and Aziraphale went all "well you are a demon it's in the job description" and Crowley brushed it off with a "well im not lying" and they kept on talking about the hellhound. But Crowley is not a liar: on the contrary, season 1 heavily played with the subversion trope of the angel that lied (I dont know where the antichrist is, Crowley, I dont even like you, Crowley) and the demon who was honest, direct, even trusting.

I get that this wasnt to be taken so literally, and things can have different levels of meaning, but the focus that they put on the lying part is intentional, so that took me back to the original point: what if Crowley, in the Job minisode, hadnt been lying at all?

The thing is, when he almost killed the kids, at first he wanted Aziraphale to believe him. He wanted for Aziraphale to take him seriously as a demon, to frighten him a bit, and he wanted to prove him wrong, to some extent. See, you dont really know me. See, Im not the angel you mentioned before. But at the end of the day, it was a mask. Crowley hadnt lied.

So what about the lonely part? Aziraphale thought he was going to hell, and Crowley swore to not tell anyone. Some could argue it was the first time Crowley actually saved him. Ans then they kept talking.

Now, picture this: you are a demon, who is different from all the other demons, and pretty soon you decided to create your own side, so to speak. You meet this gorgeous angel who gave away his sword and is kind to you and you think that maybe, you know, maybe. Then you meet him again before the flood and you think that you must have been wrong, that he is actually just like the rest of them, because how could he stand there and watch God kill all those people? All those kids? So you truly are alone. But then. But then. Then you see him again and he talk about saving Job's kids, he wants you to go against God's plan, and he eats something that you offer him, and you talk, and you think yes, this one, this one.

That night, when he tells Aziraphale that he is "just a demon that goes along with hell as much as he can", and Aziraphale asks him if he is lonely, Crowley doesnt really have to lie.

And then, on thar bench, in the most absurdly beautiful scene ever conceived, Aziraphale is so distressed when Crowley tells him that he is "an angel who goes along with heaven as much as he can" (basically saying that they are on their own side for the first time but its fine I dont have any strong feeling on this topic or anything).

But Aziraphale looks so sad.

And its clear that its far too early for any of those talks, that Aziraphale is still brainwashed and they have spoken for a total of maybe 4 times in a millennia, so Crowley retreats. And he goes back to the lonely line.

But when he said that he wasnt lonely, he wasnt lying. He has never lied to Aziraphale, back from the beginning.

So that's it, tell me what you think about it! I may be getting it wrong but its been buggering me for a while, and I'd love to hear your opinion on this!

[taizi]

could you write something about the crew saving sanji from captivity, like maybe he was caught by marines or somthing, and they hadnt been feeding him, and the crew gets to cook for sanji for once or something like that?

x

It made sense that they would run into a halfway intelligent Marine grunt sooner or later. 

“You don’t fight with your hands much,” he said, opening the file on the table in between them. “Weak arms? Nah, I’ve never heard of a sailor with weak arms. There must be another reason.”

He wasn’t anyone special. Sanji was familiar enough with the uniforms by now to tell at a glance that he wasn’t decorated the way the real heavy hitters were. Chief Petty Officer, maybe. Warrant Officer at best. 

Sanji was a Straw Hat. He wasn’t going to break a sweat for anyone less than a Vice-Admiral. He made sure to say as much, to clear up any misunderstandings. The officer didn’t appreciate hearing it for some reason. 

He put out a hand without looking up from the file. A guard by the door stepped forward and placed something in his palm. 

It was a ball-peen hammer. 

“You’re the cook. That’s why you protect your hands. You wouldn’t have a place in that famous crew of yours if you lost those.”

“Well, you’re partly right, at least,” Sanji admitted. “For someone stupid enough to spectacularly piss my captain off, that’s far more than I expected.”

The extraction team arrived in the form of an unhinged skeleton and a six-foot-tall reindeer that tossed his knife-point antlers hard enough to put a decent-sized hole in the doorframe, but only after two fingers were mangled on Sanji’s right hand and one was freshly broken on his left. 

The officer whirled around at the sudden appearance of uninvited company—surprised for just a moment, and then gray-faced with fear. 

“About time,” Sanji snarked, and wrenched his shackled hands hard enough that the chain links binding him to the floor snapped. He stood, stretched his spine, and flicked a disinterested look at the Marine officer, who went melting towards the back of the room on legs that wobbled like jelly. Disregarding him, Sanji added, “Did Robin have time to get those files she wanted? I stalled for ages.”

For a beat, neither of his nakama answered him. Then Brook’s jaw made a cracking noise like a gunshot, the way it does when he’s grinding his teeth, and Chopper shrieked, “Your hands!!”

Sanji glanced down at them. “Oh, yeah. Our mutual friend over there wasn’t very creative.” 

It hurt like a bitch, but it was far from the worst thing he’d ever felt. If it had gone much further, he might have seriously considered deviating from the plan, but a few broken bones? His brothers used to do that just for fun. 

Brook tossed his guitar over his shoulder, where it hung against his back by the strap looped across his chest, and withdrew his sword instead. 

“I can be very creative,” he said, sing-song. 

“We’re leaving!” Chopper proclaimed, and herded Sanji toward the door with his antlers. Sanji went, amused by the pushiness. 

It’s much less amusing an hour later, when his fingers are splinted and wrapped carefully, and Chopper tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s banned from work until Chopper’s satisfied with how they’ve healed. 

Sanji agrees easily, because Chopper is equal parts adorable and terrifying when it comes to the health and safety of their family. But when he slips into the galley to begin preparing supper, the reindeer is right on his heels, scolding, “Sanji! That’s work!”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. Then, “Wait, are you serious?”

Chopper throws up his little hooves, as exasperated as any healthcare professional four times his age. “Why would I joke? Your bones are broken. Put down that spatula or I’ll scream!”

Sanji puts down the spatula. He’s never felt this wrong-footed before in his life. What does one do in a kitchen they aren’t allowed to cook in? He shifts his weight and looks sideways at the pantry.

“Oh my god,” Nami says. She points at the table. “Sit.”

“This feels kind of absurd,” he says. 

“So it’s completely on-brand, then,” Usopp says, frog-marching him to a chair. “Good to know.”

Sanji lets himself be bullied with a scowl, and tucks his hands under the table where they can’t get him into any more trouble. Zoro, from the other side of the table, snorts into his tankard. Carrot drapes herself over Sanji’s shoulders, faux-sympathetic, but her chest rumbles with subvocal animal laughter. Franky and Jimbei are grinning openly.

It’s not funny. It’s time to eat. After all that action, their bodies need to replenish nutrients. They need carbs and proteins. He could at least be making smoothies while everyone argues with him—he can multitask!  

Luffy, whose face has been a thundercloud ever since they returned to Sunny, leaving the Marine base actively on fire in their wake, brightens suddenly. 

“I got it!” he announces, and that’s his trainwreck tone of voice. The very familiar, always inevitable, ‘you can try to stop me but it’ll just end in tears if you do’ tone of voice. Sanji braces himself, but nothing could have prepared him for Luffy cheerfully declaring, “We’ll make dinner!”

“Uh, no,” Sanji says quickly.

“Captain’s orders,” Robin says peacefully. 

She was angry with him before—in that careful, soft-spoken way she gets angry with her nakama that always leaves them feeling lower than dirt—for letting himself get hurt in even this unremarkable capacity. But now she meets his eyes with a smile that only the people aboard this ship are privileged to see, and he fumbles his half of the argument before he even has a chance to make it. 

Within that time, half his crew have migrated to the kitchen proper, and Nami is heaving open the huge recipe book that lives in place of pride on the counter. 

“Hey, hey, Sanji!” Luffy yells. “What do you want to eat?”

“This is really unnecessary,” he says, shifting to stand. Carrot becomes deadweight on his back, dangling there like the world’s weirdest scarf. 

“We’ll survive without five star food for a few days,” Jimbei says dryly. “If I were you, I’d answer their question before they take matters into their own hands and decide for you.”

In the kitchen, things are already rapidly devolving. There’s a lot of clamoring around and shoving of shoulders. This crew would never agree on anything they couldn’t argue about for hours first. Luffy clambers up onto Yamato’s back to get a bird’s-eye view of the recipe book, stretching an arm over Nami’s own shoulder to point out every dish that catches his eye. Yamato is a cheerful, agreeable jungle-gym, not even batting an eye when Luffy’s grip on one of his horns causes his head to tilt slowly to the left. 

If Sanji had known letting that measly little officer play his shitty power games would end like this, he would have kicked the creep in the mouth hard enough to shut him up permanently. 

He taps his bandaged fingers against his knees, frustrated and restless. Normally his friends’ stubbornness is weaponized against other people. He doesn’t like being on this end and he doesn’t understand why it’s happening. 

“They want it to be special for you,” Zoro says suddenly, interjecting for the first time all night with that infallible wisdom he likes to pull out of thin air when it suits him. Then he takes another drink and adds, “God knows why.”

There’s nothing Sanji can do for a moment but stare at him. From the corner of his eye, he can see Robin and Jimbei’s knowing smiles, Franky looking as though he’s about to laugh. Carrot is still purring, tickled pink by the whole thing. All around them, Sunny shifts and groans as she bears them across the sea, and somehow it sounds like she’s in on it, too. 

Sanji, who can’t remember the last time anyone cooked for him, refuses to feel touched. Honestly. This isn’t touching, it’s goddamn annoying—but he might as well let them have their fun, right?

“French toast,” he finally says. Not very loud, all things considered. But the anarchy in the kitchen comes to a sudden halt, and Luffy’s smile is bright enough to put that sun god lurking inside him to shame.

“With strawberries and cream,” he says importantly. “I remember! Sanji’s favorite!”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Yamato exclaims, still standing at a weird angle and unbothered by it. Next to him, Brook is imitating the pose, for no immediately apparent reason. “Do we have strawberries?”

“Strawberries!” Chopper yells, in what is either accord or a demand, and Usopp opens the fridge to investigate.

Sanji lets his chin sink into one of his hands, overseeing the chaos from his seat at the table. That itchy, uneasy feeling in his chest settles down. Now he just feels reluctantly fond.

He can’t help thinking about what the officer said to him back on the base. 

Sanji is a cook, and he does protect his hands, but that’s the extent of what the self-important stranger got correct. Luffy would drag him back from hell if he died, so the idea of being cut free because his usefulness has expired is outright laughable. Sanji doesn’t need to secure his place here. 

The reality is much simpler—providing food for the people that he loves is a privilege, one he doesn’t take lightly. It just honestly hadn’t occurred to him until now that the street goes both ways. 

Dinner preparation takes twice as long as it should that night.

Somehow, it tastes twice as sweet. 

[wolffoxnation2]

for the tol au would loki be able to use magic? he's god of magic on the rrverse wiki and i think he's gone through enough suffering to be able to use magic.

it'd be interesting if he didn't get a weapon of any kind from odin so he tries to steal some runestones from hearth or something because he knows he can use them

Oooh i genuinly hadnt thought about that. I was planning to give him a sword of anguish ;) at some point but not from Odin

(He's not getting his actual myth sword because we aint even sure that shit is a sword it might be a fucking projectile)

The moment he realizes he can use the runes will be hell for everyone else lmao

He'd be a menace and Hearth will learn to hide his fucking runestones

[soo-won]

Hi Lumen, I love your AnY posts so much! I hope I can hear your opinions about the relationship between Hak and Kye-sook. I think it is not simply an enemy...

Thank you so much for the question OMG! And I'm glad you like my posts too :')

Keishuk and Hak's dynamic is something I LOVE to get lost in thoughts about because everytime they interact you can feel the electricity in the air, you know? There is something extremely engaging about them imo. And outside of the fact I crack ship them because I think their interactions are very hot, I have a lot to say about them!

The thing about them is they're the same pole of a magnet. Like it's because they're actually extremely similar that they have this constant animosity towards each other. There is real hatred on Hak's end, understandably, and Keishuk clearly looked at Hak with contempt until recently. But there is this thing about them where they also understand each other in a way? Because they went throught the same thing. The Lord they pledged loyalty to was murdered by the opposite faction and they started to live following their child, the only thing Il and Yuhon left behind, dedicating their whole life to protect them and what they fight for, and dreaming of getting back what was stolen from them. They're both haunted by their powerlessness and the fear to fail to protect what matters to them and especially Yona and Suwon. And it's these shared feelings, directed in opposite directions that makes their relationship what it is. I think they both ended up being aware of these similarities in the other even if not consciously. Also they both easily get extremely anxious and tend to act emotionaly because of it (and that's what differentiates them the most from Yona and Suwon, too.)

Thinking about them together requires to think about Keishuk on his own, because it's only after understanding that Keishuk is driven by the constant need of to have things go according to his plans, because as a disabled man this is his only way of fighting and protecting, that I think you can start seeing the connections with Hak. Keishuk was shaped by the feeling he needs to be useful, that can also be seen in Hak especially early on in the manga.

And that's where it's also fun to imagine what represented Hak to Keishuk before the coup. A pawn with so much potential that is unusable because of his attachment to Il. A man with the strength Keishuk doesn't have, a strength he lacked when Yuhon was being murdered before his eyes, and that Hak uses to serve his murderer. To be honest I don't think Keishuk cared that much about Hak and it seems he barely knew about him before the coup, but I like to imagine he saw him as a waste. However, Suwon had given up the hope of ever having Hak on his side, but Keishuk never forgot, and Keishuk is not burdened by any complex feelings towards Hak like Suwon or Judo are, so the idea of someday managing to control and use him for Suwon's and by extension Kouka's sake is something he maybe always kept in the back of his mind ( we still don't know what was Coup Crew's plan irt Yona and Hak if they hadnt caught Suwon red-handed after all).

Throughout the series, Hak comes to want to protect Kouka and fight for his country of his own volition, whether Yona asks him to or not. Which makes him share something more with Keishuk. Hak, in his willingness to become a pawn to protect Kouka, becomes in Keishuk's eyes a proxy in a way, even though Hak fights for his own reasons. Keishuk can't fight on a battlefield anymore, but Hak, who shares a common goal and a similar way of seeing himself as disposable, becomes a weapon. Hak becomes the sword or the shield Keishuk can wield to protect Suwon.

And it makes their relationship very ironic. They are opposed and enemies by the fact they serve two person that are supposed to be at odds with each other, but when these two persons enter an alliance and walk in the same direction, then it makes Keishuk and Hak simply share the same feelings and protect what the other cares for. Aka Keishuk becoming "protective" of Yona and the dragons (even if it's not out of sympathy) and Hak protecting Suwon.

In no way does it mean they become friends or that they do this for each other, though. Hak and Keishuk are in a constant battle of compromise and Hak is very much aware that Keishuk won't hesitate to take from him and use him and his friends if he sees it fit. And Keishuk is aware that he has to tread carefully if he wants to use them longer. But I find all this super interesting! They're fated enemies in a way, so to see them kinda forced to work together despite all the spite they have for each other is fun.

Lastly, something that I'm obsessed with when it comes to Keishuk and Hak is how they're connected by their respective relationship with Suwon. I already wrote a long post about Keishuk and Yona as foils in relation to Suwon, but I think the same can be said of Keishuk and Hak, even if obviously the way they do so differ.

Keishuk's presence in this scene is anime exclusive, so everyone is free to consider it canon or not. Personally I'm in love with it and I think it adds a lot of depth to Keishuk and his feelings towards Hak and Suwon so it's canon to me lmao. This scene shows a Keishuk that feels pride in knowing the "real Suwon" that Hak is ignorant about, and he taunts him about it. Like "Look, /I/ am his right-hand man, and he didn't chose you. /I/ know his suffering and you don't know anything."

And the thing is...yeah. Keishuk is not wrong here, and it brings into light an aspect of Suwon and Hak's relationship that is often only implied, aka the fact Suwon didn't trust and rely on Hak, when Hak /wanted/ to be the person Suwon would depend on. But the Suwon Keishuk knows is not "the real Suwon" either. The truth is both Keishuk and Hak know a part of Suwon that the other don't, and I find this deeply fascinating.

This is reenforced by the fact that Hak didn't even know of Keishuk's existence just like how he was ignorant of the dark parts of Suwon's life, or how Keishuk and Hak were physically assigned to two distinct symbolic places (Yonhi's mansion and Hiryuu Castle). They were totally separated, literally and in Suwon's heart.

Hak knows nothing of the Suwon at Yonhi's mansion that planned the coup for 10 years alongside Keishuk and many others. He knew nothing of Suwon's resentments, of the truth behind his grand and distant goal or the way he is resolved to discard anything to achieve his goals, even what Hak cares for. Keishuk was and is still undeniably Suwon's closest ally (despite the distance between them but Suwon and Keishuk deserve their own post lmao), and despite their differences they share the same goal and ideologies like they do with no one else. They share the same pain of losing Yuhon and the anger and feeling of injustice that came with it, and the same afront of Il's rule. But likewise, Keishuk doesn't know the depth of the bond Suwon shared with Hak, and the truth in the time they spent together. Keishuk only pragmatically saw Hak as someone that will try to kill Suwon someday, as he understands very well where he comes from, underestimating(among other things) the importance Suwon and Hak hold for each other and the depth of their trust.

That's where the Sen Province arc is interesting as well. This arc is notable for many things, but one of them is the complete absence of Suwon and the fact the troops are basically led by both Keishuk and Hak. I just said that Keishuk and Hak were completely separated by what they know of Suwon, yet what this arc highlights is that they both know him extremely well. In the end, they grew up and studied with the same Suwon, and this common knowledge of him connects them. Like to remember something as a specific counter-strategy Suwon likes is proof of the amount of time they both spent separately with Suwon and their fondness for him. It's because this moment makes Keishuk acknowledge that Hak does know Suwon well that he starts being interested in using him furthermore.

All that being said, I also just really love whenever they taunt each other. I think it's delicious like, look at that. There is just something whenever they share a page and I'm obsessed with it. Suwon and Yona kinda stay polite with each other (more or less) but Keishuk and Hak don't give a shit like that and it's refreshing. Despite everything I've said above, the part that makes them not stand each other's ass and rile each other is an essential of their dynamic and I eat it up. There is almost a sort of competitiveness? and it's very fun. I never want them to like each other it's so much better this way.

Alas now Keishuk has to be polite with Hak for political schemes reasons and I'm sad because I miss those times very much </3.

TDLR : They're not friends they're not enemies but a secret third thing.

(Bonus: fun hakyona / keiwon parallel and i ship neither but it's endearing)

[shiningqueen]

part ?? / silvertongue, hawk eyes.

Right-o, a tldr of this fic: I've spent the past 2 months writing little pieces of an OC with Mihawk. This is just one of many, which I could honestly build a whole mini fanfiction with how much I've written..

Tossing it out here just to see if people enjoy it too.

------------

rating: e for everyone / sfw

word count: 854

featuring: afab/female oc x dracule mihawk

summary: mihawk has allowed fay, an aspiring novelist, to stay on kuraigana for a time. he finds her doing strange things sometimes..

----------------

There are a few things that Fay could appreciate about being allowed to stay on Kuraigana, even if just for a brief tenure of a few months. It had been a little uncomfortable at first sharing a mutual space with Hawkeye but she'd quickly pegged him as a relatively docile if taciturn introvert. Which meant he was best left alone except for the rare moments they happened to converse, and Fay is perfectly capable of entertaining herself while affording him the space he preferred. She could appreciate the peace and quiet, the relative freedom she was permitted to wander with and the expansive collection of books Mihawk kept in his library.

It came as absolutely no surprise that he'd carry multiple encyclopedias on old world and current age sword forms, the way the ancient art had both changed but somehow stayed constant was fascinating. Perusing its contents had been inspiring, since she'd planned on writing a dueling sequence in her novel that now required a full rewrite since losing all of her previous work. 

Fay had spent the first week here exploring every inch of the huge castle, memorizing its layout and rooms, secret passageways that opened with the touch of a certain stone or pulling a candelabra. She knew what rooms were empty and unfurnished, covered in dust and cobwebs because Hawkeye hadnt bothered to convert them into anything yet. She wasnt sure if he planned to and hadn't asked either. Trying to determine just how much conversation the man could tolerate was still a work in progress. Either way, Fay took to the hallways and slipped into one of the western rooms with a series of open windows to let the ruddy sunlight in.

With a book in hand and sufficiently alone, she unclasped her knife from its holster and decided it would have to do for practice. The process was very slow and fumbling at first - checking the illustrations to adjust her stance and grip, then flowing from one stance to the next. Bit by bit, often having to correct herself and start from the beginning. Each stance was typically for guard, neutral or in preparation to attack. So that meant the motions between each position ought to allow her to return to start again. At least that is what the book detailed anyway.

Dust swirled around her feet as she improvised movements, cutting her knife through the air in slow motion and imagining she was fighting an invisible opponent. The cold stone room fell away as she slipped into a reverie: 

She was a Knight dueling a rival for the privilege of earning rank. The clang and clash of blades striking was enough to send shivers down her spine, the flurry of blows shedding sparks as they danced around each other. In her hand, the book became a shield to deflect and push away her opponent. Focused, determined to emerge victorious as swords met and parted and met again. Fay huffed as she ducked the swing of her unseen challenger, thinking all at once how this could be converted into words for her novel and also immersing herself in the daydream.

"What are you doing?"

Fay startled with a yelp and dropped the book with a thunk, yet held onto her knife as she turned heel to face her host standing in the doorway. The ensuing silence is deafeningly tense as she flusters for an answer, "Killing time." Her nose tickled and she flinched to cover a sneeze in the crook of her arm, "Whew, s'cuse me."

Mihawk stared at her with what looked like curiosity and something near annoyance; or she could be mistaken, he was a difficult person to read even for her. "Do you even know how to use that knife?" His monotone tenor is just as inscrutable.

"As a tool, yes." She hooked it back onto her belt and bent down to scoop up the dropped book, "Is scaring the wits out of me going to be a regular thing with you?" Fay sighed, hoping to divert the subject away from what she'd been doing. As if she needed the swordsman to criticize her nonsense

He scoffed at her, "You should be more aware of your surroundings."

Fay huffs and sets her hands on her hips, "I chose this room for a reason, I wasnt expecting to be interrupted." It's a lot easier now to hold his piercing stare, though sometimes his glare still made her skin prickle uncomfortably.

"I'm not keeping you from continuing to 'kill time'." Hawkeye drawled, as if implying he wanted to watch her play pretend. "Though perhaps you'd be better suited holding something closer to a real sword."

The brunette can't help but laugh a little, "I definitely do not need you watching me make a fool out of myself, thanks." She walks forward to pass by him, "I was only trying to visualize a scene to write, which is what I'll go do now." Fay neatly steps around Mihawk and ventures down the hallway. She'd find somewhere else, away from the castle perhaps, to take up her rehearsals.

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

How about “Hey! I may be a dumbass but I’m your dumbass!” for Alistair/Shaesa?

omg omg omg I was so happy when I got this prompt and I knew IMMEDIATELY what I wanted to do. So this is a lil scene after Alistair finds out that Shaesa had been previously engaged, and he gets a bit insecure about it cause Shaesa was his first love and finding out she had someone before him that she felt THAT SERIOUSLY about (jokes on him, it was arranged, but he didn't know that lol) sorta freaked him out. He started distancing himself from Shae but she noticed and called him out on it and so this is what happens after that :3 hope you enjoy! for @dadrunkwriting Rated G: Fluffy goodness, ~800 words

Try Again | By Exalted_Dawn

Shaesa stifled a snort into her palm, her smile curling against sword-formed calluses in a cheeky sort of way. Even so, the feeble attempt did little to hide the blossoming up-turn to her lips, or the way her eyes crinkled with joy, so the elf didn’t bother to pretend that she didn’t find this whole situation funny. “Maker, you’re such an idiot,” she chuckled, the words almost breathy as she spoke them, clouding on the brisk morning wind.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Alistair’s face turned an even deeper shade of red (something she hadnt previously thought possible), scrunching in an adorably flustered scowl. “What? And you’ve never made a wrong assumption, hm?” he muttered, scrubbing at the back of his head. “It’s not as if you particularly liked to talk about it in the beginning, and when your father brought it up, I thought-”

Shaesa broke off with a laugh, curling in on herself. She rocked back against the Vhenadahl, using its sturdy trunk to balance against as she finally and truly succumbed to her amusement. She shook her head briskly, wiping a stray tear from her eye as she did. “What? That I’d lost the love of my life? That I’d never want to be engaged again?” She peaked up at the man standing beside her, all wrapped up in scarves and a thick-knit traveling cloak from head to toe. He really was too cute for his own good. It was hardly fair. She sighed deeply, sucking down a centering breath in an attempt to reign in at least some of her laughter, and reached over to grab his hand in hers. “Alistair. Just because I was once, doesn’t mean that I’m still spoken for. Sorta hard to be betrothed to a ghost… y’know?” 

He stared idly at their interlocked hands, fingers woven together tight, and Shaesa watched as something in him settled. His gaze grew distant, more contemplative and sullen. His head dipped in a tentative nod. So he wasn’t entirely convinced, then. 

Huffing, she turned and yanked him to face her, picking up his other hand so she held both aloft between them. She squeezed roughly, her conviction demanding. “Marry me.”

Alistair blinked. “I’m sorry- what?”

“Marry me, you dumbass,” she repeated, stern. 

“Uh-”

Shaesa frowned up at him expectantly, glaring down his baffled confusion. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Alistair asked.

“Of course I am.”

“What do you mean ‘of course you are’????” he quacked, balking. “You just ask like that? Out of the blue? With absolutely no warning or preparation?” 

Shaesa’s frown deepened a fraction. “Well I wouldn’t exactly say it was without planning, or entirely out of the blue. We were talking about it, and it’s been on my mind for some time now. I thought, if you really cared about me being engaged, then-”

Alistairs lips closed over hers, pressing and insistent. Warm, against the Denerim chill. Shaesa signed into the kiss, leaning up into him as he stooped to cup her face, drawing her closer. His thumbs brushed across her freckled cheeks in tender refrain, teasing a flush to them to match his own. 

They parted slowly, breath catching in the air between them. Shaesa could not help the silly, lopsided grin on her lips. “So I take it that’s a ‘yes’, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Alistair puffed indignantly, thunking his forehead against her own. “You don’t even have a ring- let alone flowers or proper mood lighting. I’m not some cheap date, you know. If you were going to propose, I would have liked to see some actual effort.”

“But if I did have all that stuff…?” She tried not to sound too hopeful, in case he was simply deflecting through humor. But her worries were swept away as Alistair grinned something goofy and pecked her nose with another kiss. 

“I suppooooose you’ll just have to ask me again and find out, won’t you?” He grabbed her hand again and tugged her along, back towards the direction of Shaesa’s family home. His ears were pink to their very tip, but his grip was firm and sure.

The nerves in her softened, as did her smile. She squeezed his hand back, stumbling to catch up with him. “You really are a dumbass,” she murmured, love swelling in her chest. How could he have doubted her for a second? As if she ever stood a chance against him.

“Yeah, well,” he started, not even bothering to look back at her. “I’m your dumbass now, so I guess you’re stuck with me. Afraid it's a bit too late for regrets.”

Regrets?

Never.

Never.

[viilpstick]

The sound of Pandora's heels clicking echoed through the halls. Stopping before the large entrance to a room, she pushed the wooden doors open.

In the centre, set upon a marble pedestal was her scale. Taking careful steps, she walked over to it. Upon closer inspection, the scale appeared deflected from its equilibrium towards the right. At that realization, Pandora's brows simply furrowed.

The "purpose" of the scale was ensuring Pandora remained fit for her duty but she knew better. The Seraphims never liked the idea of defiance and once met with it, she was their solution to the problem. For the most part, they didnt care what she did and she valued that freedom but once something happened that didn't even remotely fit their tastes, they would be quick to put her on a leash once more. After all, she really wasn't any different from a mere tool.

Lost in her train of thought, Pandora had failed to realize she had company. She hadnt noticed them, not until they gasped. Pandora turned to them quickly, her face now appearing more troubled than necessary.

If the angel reported back to the Seraphims, there was no possible way of it ending out well for her. So when they turn to exit the room, her body acted upon impulse.

.

.

Staring at the scene in utter horror, Pandora took shaky steps back from the corpse at her feet. Her sword slipped out of her trembling fingers as the blade clanked against the floor. Her dress was dyed crimson as blood pooled around the body. Peering back at the scale, this time the left plate far outweighed the right one.

Looking back at the dead body infront of her, she couldnt help but feel disgusting. Less of the fact that she killed someone and more of her selfish ness. Infact taking someone's life was something she had done more often than she'd like to admit but it was always justified by law. This time however, even with the motionless remains of a fellow angel lying infront of her the thing she worried about was herself. This would surely not remain unknown by the Seraphims and she feared the punishment she'd face. The scale was the least of her problems now.

.

.

"To play God by taking someone's life like that, you have some nerve."

The judge being brought accountable by the laws she upheld, *the pure irony.* Pandora would have laughed at the situation had it not been against her.

She could only stare at the Seraphims as they discussed what should be done regarding the circumstances. A certain empty spot, however, didn't remain unnoticed by Pandora. *Ofcourse Xion wasn't present.* The verdict against her would have been entirely different if he had been here.

"Your awfully quiet for someone who is about to get penalized. You don't plan on defending your case?"

"I see no reason to. Even if i chose to justify my actions, the result would remain the same. Infact, some could consider this as an act of resistant and that will do nothing but worsen my fate. "

"*Smart*. But moving on, destroying *it* seems far too merciful. As Seraphims, it is our duty to ensure peace and order. Ending *it* hardly seems fair since *it* doesn't feel the way we do it. Besides, justice must be served. "

With the constant emphasis on "it", Pandora didn't even need to look at the Seraphim to know who she has been talking to. Aine always seemed much more agitated by her existence than the others. Maybe the reason was her rocky relations with Xion.

"Well, what alternative do you suggest then? "

*"Explusion, ofcourse."*

Pandora couldn't help the fact that her body tensed at that. Death was a more welcomed fate. A quick end she would rather come imto terms with than be casted out, unable to fulfill her purpose.

Her face morphed into panic once Seraphims more seemed on board with that idea.

Surely this wasn't going to her fate, right? It couldnt be.

.

.

Pandora could feel each individual tissue beeing ripped apart, the tendons beings torn as the sound of the bones cracking filled her ears. On top of that, the blood trickling down her back naturally made this worse as her form began cracking.

Her wings lay infront of her, piled over one another. The pure white color of them now stained by her blood. A sign of her now being an outcast. How pathetic.

.

.

She wasnt sure who long it had been since she was banished. It could very well have been days or a mere hour. She couldnt perceive time in her dimension all that well after all. Her train of thought, however, was interrupted by the sound of faint footsteps. She was certain who they belonged to since no one but that person had free access to this space like she does.

"Apologies for the delay, my dear. The other Seraphims seemed keen on keeping me blissfully unaware who what occurred. "

Sure enough when she turned to look back, Xion was standing a few feet away from her.

"It's quite alright. The peace and quiet was a nice change. "

"Glad to here it but I'm afraid it won't last long. After all, we have to get you your place in heaven back. "

Pandora was stunned for a fraction of a second before curiously peering back at Xion.

"... You think thats possible? "

"You underestimate my influence, my dear. I can pull a fair share of strings to ensure that it happens. The Seraphims are far more predictable and easy to manipulate than you think. "

"I see...but why did you come here? "

Circling her form, Xion simply hummed in response. Coming to a halt behind her, his fingers traced the remaining part of her wings. His hamd wraped around the bone, twisting it and yanking it out.

"You know you can warn me next time? "

"I could but i wont."

With that Xion threw the bones aside, and began walking away. But just before he left, he stopped.

"Oh and before i forget. Be a good girl for me and make sure this doesnt happen again, will you? I hate errors in the system."

With that Xion disappeared. It was a few seconds after that did Pandora understand the meanibg behind his words, smiling to herself at the realization.

"But ofcourse."

.

.

"How long do you intend on following me, Pandora?"

"As long as i please, Aine. Though for someone like you i am suprised it took you this long to become aware of my presence. "

"Yea whatever. "

With that, Aine looked back at Pandora, the irritation evident in her eyes.

"I see your wings have grown back."

"They are more beautiful than the last, dont you agree? "

Aine could only grow more frustrated at the interaction.

"You know, just because the others let you back in doesnt mean you're forgiven. "

"Not in yours eyes atleast. Not that it matters to me. Im not answerable for my actions to you. "

"I think you're forgetting my rank is higher than yours so you very much are. "

"Not anymore. "

Before Aine could question the meaning of those words, she noticed the swords in Pandora's hand. One undoubtedly Xions. The metal plates of the blade seperated taking on a much more flexible form.

Aine could only take a careful step back before the weapon wraped itself around her body.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"You see Aine, im simply carrying out my duty and removing the cause of the lapse in my case. Besides, you said it yourself that as a seraphim it is your duty to ensure peace and order is maintained in heaven."

With that pandora, pulled her arm back, bringing Aine closer as she pierced her body wiyh her own sword.

"So in a way im helping you carry out your job as well. You understand, dont you?"

i am actually speechless

like omg

i

chills

literal chills

[tricewithaz]

wait im screaming why did they fight on a table lamdmansjs i never bothered to read the trilogy i went straight to the nikolai books after soc

Okay the detail of them being ona table might not be completely canon but essentially Nikolai's dna is uhm dubious and on his birthday the royal family along with Alina reunite to have a meal together and Vasily has a toast to celebrate his own plans to handle the darking while being passive agressive about Nikolai's handling of Alina and his plans to confront the Darkling. These plans include negotiating with him and essentially accidentally giving him Alinas location, which Nikolai hadnt done before for obvious reasons. At this point in the book Nikolai has 1)disappeared from Ravka for like seven years 2)become a pirate 3)kidnapped Alina 4)flirted with Alina and 5) is trying to convince Alina to marry him a symbol of union between the Grisha, the people and the Royals. So Nikolai gets all angry cause he knows what will be the results of these negotiations and cause Vasily did all of this without consulting anyone, Vasily insists that Nikolai is vain and impulsive and Nikolai insists that Vasily is a coward, stupid and couldnt handle a fight to save his life. And theyre both so angry it leads to them pulling out their swords to swordfight each other in the middle of Nikolais birthday party, but before any of them can do anything the Darkling raids the event and kills Vasily with his shadow creatures (which is funny considering he was the one to cause this) Mind you, Nikolai and Vasily argue till the end, and the king pretty much admits he would have rathered Nikolai dies.

The detail of them stepping on the table just sort of happened for me when I was reading, cause the intensity required it and the thought of Nikolai stepping on a salad while confronting Vasily was really funny.

The trilogy sort of sucks but if you like Nikolai, he's really entertaining in it, a huge highlight. I must admit i finished reading it cause of him. And im not a huge nikolina stan but they have really nice chemistry in the books.

[hqmillioncorn]

heal up the world,

I cant let anyone else get involved its my fault that mom and dad even found babycorn if i hadnt talked with mom so much when i meet her again none of this would have happened! How could I have been so stupid? I have to find her i have to (Excerpt from Butter's personal Diary)

Lalapril 4/8: Soul with @windupnamazu's Butter.

Butter has a mysterious visitor in the middle of the night

It had been about a month now since Butter’s parents had come back into his life and it had been almost more than a week since they disappeared off the face of the world, taking Babycorn with them.

His mother had pretty much told them to their faces everything that she planned to do. The one thing she wanted most in the world was to go home, to her real family, the place she actually belonged.

Obviously it didn’t matter who she hurt along the way. That was what worried Butter the most.

The way both his parents had casually just tossed him and Pancake aside. All those years they spent waiting for them to come back, had they just been wasting their time?

Waiting for someone that didn’t even want them? Where did they even belong now?

Not only that, they were putting Babycorn in grave danger.

Once Butter had found out from Tilika that whatever his parents planned to do could end up killing Babycorn, he had gone and put everything he could into finding her.

There was a point where Butter had convinced himself that this was something he needed to take care of on his own. While he did think this, it wasn’t stopping anyone else from looking alongside him.

Lunya in particular was worried about him but Butter assured her that he was doing fine, despite everything. The only thing that mattered was finding his parents and stopping them.

Today and yesterday were particularly hard days. Butter hadn’t slept since the day before, because there had been a tip that came in from Coerthas. He traveled all the way there to investigate himself.

Though, the furthest he got was entering Gridania. As it turned out Lunya was way ahead of him. ‘No you don't! We can take care of this! You go and get some rest!’ She urged him. Lunya assured him that she and Tsuna were going to search for any signs of his parents in Coerthas. ‘I know it’ll be hard but just try your best. If I let you pass out like that-Pancake would have my head!!’

Butter knew Lunya only wanted the best for him but resting was easier said than done. At this point he had been lying down on the bed of inside his inn room for what felt like hours. He didn’t know what time it was, the only thing he knew was that it was nighttime.

Butter sighed and sat up, he grabbed his sword and walked over to open the door to his room.

If he couldn’t get to sleep then maybe a walk would help him clear his head.

There was something about Gridania at night that felt oddly calming.

There weren’t too many people out and given just how much Butter had been running around crowds lately it was a nice change of pace. That wasn’t stopping him from looking around more than usual, for any sign that either his parents or Babycorn had been here.

Butter stopped in front of Apkallu falls. There was something strange about it that Butter couldn’t quite place. It looked like there was someone standing in front of him. Someone who looked like they were almost see-through.

He rubbed his eyes. Could he have been more tired than he thought?

“Hey. Who’s there?”

As Butter walked closer he could feel heart beginning to race. The mysterious figure in front of him turned to look at him, so he must have got their attention. At least, that’s what it looked like.

The closer that Butter walked closer to the figure, the more clearly he could see them.

Until…

Butter froze. A chill traveled up his spine.

“Babycorn…”

It was definitely her. Plain as day.

Babycorn’s hair was down and she was wearing a plain white dress. It almost looked like she was glowing but that couldn’t be possible. Butter was too stunned to speak, to do anything.

Babycorn walked closer and closer to Butter until she was standing right in front of him. Her eyes widened as she smiled wide, “Butts!” There was a slight crack to her voice. As if she was holding something back.

At the sound of Babycorn’s voice, Butter was able to finally gather his thoughts. “Babycorn! Did you escape?! How did you-?! Where were you?!” Butter tried to reach out and embrace her in a tight hug, only to find himself going right through her.

Almost like she was nothing more than thin air.

Butter looked down at his hands and then back at Babycorn. “What are you doing?” He was almost scared to hear the answer.

“I’m just projecting myself to you!” Babycorn waved her hand, “It’s a neato little trick I figured out!” Honestly it felt like she was discovering new things she could do almost every other week. “I already visited Cherrypit so I wanted to see you next! Sorry if I scared you.”

“No that’s okay…” Butter was still trying to wrap his head around what Babycorn had said.

It was clear to him that Babycorn had seen better days. There were dark circles under her eyes that no doubt matched his own. He had no idea what was happening to her but he knew he needed to find his parents and put a stop to it. “Babycorn, can you tell me where my parents are hiding? So we can come help you!”

Babycorn’s smile slowly faded, though not for long. Her smile was strained and her movements were very easily betraying the facade she was trying to put on. “I…can’t tell you. Because I have no idea.” Babycorn explained that all she knew about where she was being held captive was that it was dark and she could see small plants growing from the ground.

That could honestly be anywhere.

Butter looked absolutely dejected. This was probably their best shot so far and to see it crash and burn so easily was absolutely agonizing. “I’m sorry…” Butter said, trying not to break down in front of her. He didn’t want her to lose hope. Just like he was slowly starting to.

“It’s okay!” Babycorn tried to place her hand over Butter’s shoulder. Butter could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “I know you and everyone are gonna come and help me really soon! So I’m not too scared!”

Butter also couldn’t help but notice that Babycorn’s ears were pointed more downward than they usually were.

“It was easier to talk with Cherry before but I don’t have a lot of time right now so I stopped time for an itty bitty so we can talk more!”

Her voice also sounded a lot more tired than usual. He had heard her sound like this before, back when she first woke up in Old Sharlayan. But that was then and this was now.

Wait.

“The…You…WHAT?!”

Butter looked all around them. Everything still looked the same but now that he looked closer he could notice a few leaves floating in mid-air and in a pond about eight fulms away a duck was sitting almost perfectly still. Butter looked back at Babycorn and twirled a piece of his solid hair between his fingers. He giggled, trying to cover his embarrassment with his other hand. “Wow…You really stopped time for me…” He was beyond flattered.

“Oh course!” Babycorn brought her hands together, her face had a slight tint of pink. “I think I only had enough energy to talk with Cherry but I really wanted to talk to you so I had to find a way to do it…”

Butter was shocked out of his yearning at what Babycorn had just said. “Wait-?! Energy?! Babycorn don’t tell me…” Now that he looked at her more closely Butter could tell that something wasn’t right with her. It almost felt like Babycorn was flickering in and out of existence.

“You…” Butter didn’t even want to say it. “You aren’t using your powers to do this are you?”

Babycorn laughed and stuck her tongue out. “Ha ha! Guiltyyyy~!”

“Babycorn! You shouldn’t-! You can’t-!” Butter didn’t know Babycorn could do this and at this point he didn’t care.

If what Tilika said in her letter was true then the more Babycorn used her powers the more she was at risk of being killed. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to do this?! I don’t want you to…to…”

“Butts don’t worry it's okay!” Babycorn tried to wave his very valid concerns aside but judging from his face it was clear she wasn’t doing a very good job. “I promise I’m okay! It’s like I told Cherry once-stopping the flow of time is…” Babycorn paused, it looked like her eyes were following something Butter couldn’t see. “…it’s easy.”

“What are you talking about?!” Butter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Nothing about what Babycorn was doing looked or sounded easy to him. The whole world around them was stopped in its tracks. Somehow Babycorn had just plucked both of them out of time’s continuing flow and Butter was just supposed to think that was easy?!

“Easy!” Babycorn grinned from ear to ear, posing with two fingers close to her eye. “I promise! I’m doing okay! I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I wasn’t! Your mom and dad made me use my powers earlier yeah but…they’re doing something else right now so I get a break! Hehe!”

Butter didn’t know what to say. There was a part of him that just wanted to apologize for everything. Another wanted to yell at his parents for what they were doing, not that either would do any good now.

“I actually wanted to come and ask you something.”

“Huh?”

There was a bright green glow coming off from Babycorn, then out from her hands a familiar necklace appeared. Butter recognized it immediately.

“I promise this won’t take long! I’ll let you go in a second!” Babycorn laughed.

Butter desperately wanted to tell her that he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

Babycorn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With a slight movement of her hand, something that Butter could only describe as some sort of crystal window manifested in front of them. “Woah…” There was something about it that grabbed his attention, he could see his own reflection in it but there was something off about it.

He didn’t look like he expected to look.

“Groovy isn’t it?!” Babycorn’s voice was peepy and joyful, this was something she had been working on for a long time. She’d done things like this before but never on this large of a scale.

While Butter was busy looking at what she did, she quickly wiped some sweat from her forehead. As carefree as she was acting this was taking a toll on her, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

Babycorn walked closer to the window and placed her hand on it. When she did, a ripple echoed through the entire thing as an image slowly faded into view. Butter could slowly make out more things besides himself. First he could recognize a bright blue sky, then the green grass below. Very soon, the home he grew up in was in clear view, alongside that he could see Pancake, Cinnamon and

his mom and dad.

“W-What…?” What was he even looking at?

Suddenly his reflection moved, without him doing anything. Butter took a step back in shock as he watched his own reflection run over to where his parents stood. Their mouths were moving but Butter couldn’t hear anything that was being said. He stared in silence as he watched what looked like his mom hug Pancake and then hug him.

“It’s a perfect world! A world where everything turns out right!” Babycorn grinned, “I had a lot of trouble making it so Cinnamon still existed but I managed it! Aren’t you proud?!”

Butter looked at Babycorn, her smile was somewhat unsettling. “Are you saying that-you made this?” For someone to make a whole other world…? Was something like that even possible?

“You betcha!” Babycorn stood proudly, raising a fist in her air. A gesture that was done very cutely by the way. Though as much as Babycorn was proud of herself she had to admit something first. “Well the truth is I haven’t made it yet. Right now it's sorta like the thing someone does before doing something…?” It had a name but it always slipped her mind. Mostly because she tended to never do it.

“Do you mean a plan?”

“Oh yeah! That’s it! It’s a plan!” Babycorn looked at Butter like he was the coolest guy in the world. “You’re way too smart Butts!”

Butter laughed just a little. “If you say so…”

“My plan…” Babycorn eyes shined a bright yellow, as the image in the mirror became clearer. “…I could rewrite the world. With Cherry’s help I could make a world where everything is better and you and Pancake are happy with your parents! Your mom wouldn’t be from another world and she would love you and want to stay here! Everything would be perfect!”

Butter didn’t like this.

“It would all be so much better! I think I did a great job!” Babycorn happily explained, with a wide smile on her face. All she wanted was for Butter to be happy, to be safe, and content. For completely normal reasons of course.

“Babycorn that’s…” He didn’t know what to say.

“Of course…I might not survive making the world.” Babycorn’s smile never wavered. “It might end up killing me. But that’s okay right?!”

Without even a second thought, Butter rushed up to Babycorn, grabbing her hands. Somehow he was able to hold them in his. Even Babycorn was surprised he had managed to do that.

Butter looked up at Babycorn with tears in his eyes. She was taken aback at just how angry he looked. This was not at all how she was expecting to react. “No! No! That’s not alright! What are you talking about?!” Butter cried out, “Don’t even joke about doing something like that!!” The image in the mirror started to fade out of reality.

“W-What are you talking about…?!” Babycorn raised her voice as high as she could, “Isn’t that what would make you happy?!”

“No! Not at all! I could never be happy in a world that didn’t have you in it!!”

The mirror started to crack.

“If you do this…If you do this…I…” Butter struggled to even understand why Babycorn would even consider doing this for him. “I…IF YOU DIE THEN…!!! I’LL JUST KILL MYSELF!!!”

“HUH?! HUH?! HUH?! HUH?! HUUUUUUUUUUUUUH?!?!”

The perfect world that Babycorn had created shattered into pieces. It had to, there’s no possible world out there where she wanted Butter to die himself. He couldn’t! He had to stay safe! There was no way she could live or die in a world without h-

Babycorn’s image flickered. She took her hands and held them up to her cheeks. “I…I’m sorry Butter! I didn’t think…” Tears were coming down her eyes. A leaf shook in the wind. “I thought I could solve it…I thought I could solve everything…” Babycorn fell to her knees and continued to apologize.

Butter wasted no time in kneeling right next to her. He was surprised when he found he could still touch her. “Babycorn it’s okay…! I didn’t mean to scare you but you scared me too…” He placed his hand on her’s. “I would never want my happiness to come at a cost to yours. No matter what.” He looked right at her, he needed Babycorn to understand this.

“…I’m sorry about your parents.” Babycorn whispered. “I think they’re stupid for wanting to leave.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re going to find me right?”

Butter nodded. “I promise.”

The sound of the waterfall behind them began to get louder and louder. Butter found it harder to hold Babycorn’s hands.

“Butter…I just wanted you to be happy.”

Babycorn mouthed something to Butter but at this point there was no sound coming from her and then the very next second, she was gone.

As if she had never even been there in the first place. A small leaf landed on Butter’s empty hands as he stared at where Babycorn had been just a few seconds ago.

As time continued to move forward Butter stayed right where he was. If only for a minute or two, hoping that somehow Babycorn would come back. Someway, somehow. Butter waited for so long it wasn’t long until he had fallen fast asleep.

Babycorn tried her best to send Butter the nicest breeze she could.

[darth-does-stuff]

thomas and logans separate reactions to first getting a sword

(and the thing going on with their left eyes is a litol idea im playing with. basically with the elves, their left eye has a shape or crest to it along with a color that glows slightly. just a fun little detail. and of course im going to make thomas’ color a rainbow its what he would want)

[vinnybox]

Okay, I really need to know: how do villains react to Talon!Dick? Joker, Penguin, Ivy, Riddler, Killer Croc, you know classic Gotham rogues who know him almost whole his life? And how does Dick react to them? Does he continue to fight crime after transformation and use his wings to hit bad guys during combat? What if some villain is allergic to feathers?

I hadnt thought that far ahead so it's not a solid idea yet but here's a lil brainstorming! Anyone feel free to add to this! Even in tags I'll read them :D I wouldn't mind learning more since my knowledge is quite surface level compared to how much comics and information there is out there. Sorry if this seems like nonsense DHSHDJ I just woke up-

I think a little after Dick's disappearance, they'll catch wind of Nightwing being missing eventually and maybe quite quickly too. Im sure some of the villains would even take the chance to taunt the fam about it and usually it does NOT end well for the villains cause the fam are on the look out for Nighwing. They’re worried, they’re tired, they’re trying, and they do not have time to deal with them trying to get under their skin. They just want him back.

Like you’ll for sure hear the classic, “Your little Blue Bird gone missing?”, “So I’ve heard that our dear Nightwing hasn’t been showing up as of late!” or anything along those. And Im sure the thugs talks about him to.

“Nightwing’s been gone for a long while. You think something happened?”

“Who cares? Less of the bats to worry about.“

“I dunno, man. I’d take Nightwing over Batman or any of the bat brats. One of the kid’s got a damn sword! And don’t even mention the Red Hood...”

“What about me?” (Jason)

“oH SHIT, RED HOOD-“

I think that in this AU Dick would eventually be back out to patrol and fight crime with the batfam again at some point!

IF a villain is allergic to feathers that would be absolutely hilrious actually DJSHGDHD LIKE IMAGINE YOU PLANNED OUT ALL THESE SCHEMES... and then a guy with wings shows up and your allergy acts out DHSHDJ I’d just give up and go home HDGSHD

ALSO ALSO? Slade, Deathstroke, whatever we wanna call him tbh DHSGDH. from what I remember, he is quite fixated on Dick/Nightwing so like, he might be some of the first few to notice Dick hasn’t been showing up. That’s definitely going to make him suspicious and curious on what might have happened to Nightwing. 

When the villains see him again tho, Im sure they’re in for a rather big surprise tbh. Like imagine seeing this kid you fought with so often and pretty much watched him grow and change, and then suddenly he lost most of what you remembered about him and now has wings and eyes do some glowy shit and is a bit more stabby than you remembered.

Feel free to add onto this or correct anything!