💀Mac stealing candy while also traumatizing children and causing heart attacks for s**** and giggles, while over here Wukong is in the front of every door, pushing and shoving any kid in his way leaving a trail of crying screaming children while trying to charm the house owner to give him more than one king size candy bars from each and every house.👻🎃💕🍫
🍭They are both the worst trick or treaters out there an MK has to supervise them from now on😠
Also here's a good scenario I came up with all drawing them.
what if the whole gang goes out for Halloween shopping picking out costumes or material for their costumes and macaque pics of ghosts / zombie/ anything that reminds you of the Dead. Mac's costume upsets monkey King to the point he tries to ignore or tries to bully him into a better costume anything that doesn't remind him that he's actually half dead or maybe out of guilt / fear he just doesn't want to see him macaque in that horrific way again.
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Not me imagining one day that a worn and withered mango is brought before Emperor Amethar of the Concordant Empire, the first of his name. She has been caught and is on trial for murder, for killing a seemingly innocuous servant of Vegetanian origin, but her final request is to be brought before the Emperor, to speak in private audience with him.
He recognizes her. Barely, the years cobwebbing his memories, but he remembers the mango who fought by Gustavo’s side. Amangeaux Epicée. The one who vanished mysteriously from before the war tent during the battle of Pangranos.
She laughs, a dry, raspy thing. “My liege, there is far more to the story than that.”
And she tells him.
She tells him of being a widowed queen, certain there were enemies all around her, placing her trust in only her faithful handmaiden, the kindly radish priest of the Bulb who did not abandon her like everyone else, and a young chili pepper she always saw as a daughter, despite the girl’s strength of character and martial prowess.
She tells him of receiving a letter, containing her darkest secret. Of meeting a thane of the meatlands and a cheesy sellsword outside the finished food pyramid, alongside her chili pepper spymaster and radish priest. Of descending into the depths to hold audience with the ones calling themselves “The Fellowship of Destiny’s Architects”, and the certainty they would all be called upon again one day.
Of escaping to Comida on the advice of her two closest advisors to throw her lot in with Tomaté. Of the summons sitting there in the carriage they were escaping in. Of being given a task: assassinate a threat to the future on behalf of the FDA.
Of not being told who the target was until the fatal blows had already been struck.
It is a miracle Amethar doesn’t rend her head from her shoulders then and there. He agrees to wait until her tale is done, one hand on the hilt of Payment Day.
Amangeaux explains the horror of learning what the FDA’s true purpose was, that it was headed by none other than the late Archbishop herself. Of running, abandoning all she loved save the one who depended on her the most. Of honing her knowledge and skills, giving herself to Gustavo, a blade to be wielded to help instead of harm. She speaks of the march to Pangranos, of reuniting with a demoted wreck of archdeacon and a cheesy knight of the Bulb. Of standing outside that tent, pretending her heart wasn’t leaping for joy at the sight of her little chili pepper grown into a fine and strong woman, of the thane turned warlord in his quest for power.
Of following the babbling, raving archdeacon when he sighted what they had come across so many years ago: a being of mold and fungus, gentle, expressive, and almost childlike. Who are connected, and communicate through emotions rather than words, who allow for the rot of death to be turned to the soil of life.
Of discovering the FDA’s taint had spread so far as to enslave an entire seventh kingdom of these beings, beneath the earth.
Of watching the Archbishop become an avatar of a monstrous existence beyond the Hungry One and the Bulb, a being of alien metal and spinning teeth that rent anything which entered it, uncaring and unnourished.
Of losing her two closest companions, her kindly radish and her little chili pepper, to its blades.
She speaks of vowing retribution. Of exterminating every last member of the FDA she could find, wherever she could find them. Of employing all the techniques she’d seen her spymaster use, oh so long ago.
Of completing her mission with this one, final death.
Amethar has to sit with this a moment.
“Why now?” He asks. “You have survived unseen all this time. You have told nobody of your crimes or exploits. Why me? Why now?”
Queen, then Lady, then just Amangeaux Epicée de la Pêche gives a tired grin.
“For you are the Concordant Emperor of Calorum,” She states, “And one of those most hurt by our actions. It is only fitting you should be aware of the seventh kingdom under your protection, and the chance to understand what circumstances delivered it to you.”
She is still smiling even when Payment Day’s blade cuts into her.
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I did not expect myself to get so emotionally attached to a chocolate rabbit.
A chocolate rabbit that slapped a carrot.
A chocolate rabbit that was a heretic and apostate.
A chocolate rabbit that’s really just an old man that drones on about history.
A chocolate rabbit that kept professing that they were all going to die, but in the end, it was because he granted Fly to Theobald, the person he acted as if he so hated, instead of himself that everyone else could make it out alive. It was in that battle that Lapin no longer cared about keeping up his facade as a Bulbian believer, casting his magic freely to side with the Candians. Though they showed him so little appreciation, with the princesses and king vocal about their distaste for his lectures, Liam avoiding his company, and Theobald constantly reminding him of their supposed mutual distaste for each other, he died for them that day, alone with the enemy.
No, I am not okay.
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