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#frostbite the white knight
ftwkcomic · 1 year
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When you want somebody gone, and you don't want to wait too long, call the Immediate Murder Professionals! Hand grenade or cyanide, we'll make it look like suicide, The Immediate Murder Professionals! We do our job so well. Because we come straight up from Hell! We'll kill your husband, or your wife, we'll even let you keep the knife we're the Immediate Murder Professionals! Kids die for free!~
An Alternative look for the Spec Ops Wolf based off of everyone's favorite Hellhound Loona!
Character belongs to https://twitter.com/LeoSaurusR3x
Hope you guys enjoy. c:
My comms and socials:
ftwkcomic.carrd.co
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Concept: inspired by @bluerosefox and they're work about danny demanding the jokers soul. I wanted to write the joker and Danny's interactions too.
Danny groaned as the next set of paperwork was slipped onto his desk.
Joker would soon croak.
He would slip on his own banana peel and fall down the stairs.
Gothem would celebrate that night with alcohol and music. The ghost zone would brace itself for the trial...
Honestly it was bound to happen. It wasn't that danny was surprised. But it would be a long drawn out case. When a human dies they become more of what they are after all.
It's like their souls are condensed to make up their ghostly form. As if their passions were their hearts.
For some that was amazing. Fiery passion can be useful in all sorts of situations, but for joker this would be a nightmare come true.
The ghost looked at him his eyes worried, almost teary.
"Should I alarm the Gothamites of the infinite realms."
Danny thought for a minute, let out a low hum, and thought some more.
He knew what he could do in theory.
If he was to judge the jokers soul in the room that he dies in, the ghost zone would be free from his wrath.
But if the joker defeated him in combat he shuddered at what that monster would do with all the power in the afterlife.
He didn't really think joker could take him down, but knowing others thought the same for him and his predecessor....
So Danny was left with one option.
"Call my knights," he commanded
The fright knight was captain. Head of the army and keeper of the soul shredder.
Danny only needed to borrow it, but when he explained the predicament the ghost dropped to his knees, the metal clang sound echoed through the office. The fright knight began to speak,
"You wish to spare me from looking into the eyes of evil, and I thank you my liege. But I can not and shall not send you alone to your second death."
Danny told him to rise to get off the dirty floor, but he continued.
"As captain of the guards my liege is only under my obligation to the knights under me."
Danny remembered the conversation that made that a possibility. That changed the priority of obligation completely and totally, hopefully for once and for all.
Danny hid a small smile and told him to get of the floor again
............
It didn't take long to find joker amoung the living. He was surrounded by weeping souls unable to move on.
Danny clutched his scale. A gift from clockwork, to a "good and fair king to continue to strive to be better."
Clockwork had, in the end taken up the role of advisor. As such he stood by Danny's right side, his captain to the left.
When they entered the room he was already dead.
The soul of the man was laughing hysterically.
He got louder when he spotted them.
Danny sighed and despite the noise tried to read him his rights.
He argued with each and every one in nonsensical logic.
The third time Danny slapped him across his ghostly face, leaving frostbite and cold crystals on his white cheek.
"I am not batman, I am death. I will not play as he does, I am the ghost king, death himself."
After the rights were read Danny peared into his soul, sticky and tar like, it made him feel ill. He put on the extra gauntlet brought and separated the dead from his deeds.
It felt like lifting a semi, and weighed him down about a foot.
The joker cackled with pride. Danny wondered if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation, or if he didn't care.
Then with the other hand he did the same to himself.
Both sets of deeds were set on the scale at the same time. Danny barely caught the peice of his own ghostly form.
The scale broke the table on its way down, jokers sludgelike, corrupted deeds stuck to it. The scale hadn't twitched once to the other side.
The knights went to pick up the piece of soul and put it back. It took three of them.
Danny put his deeds back were they belonged.
When everything was dead and done, joker was declared guilty and chained down, something he escaped out the window and around the block to avoid.
Danny took out the soul shredder.
It wasn't the fright knights job to play executioner.
Then the joker was blindfolded, he made this difficult via attempted biting, but once it was done, it was done.
Danny didn't ask for a last word.
He took the sword and swung as he had been taught. And as the jokers very soul was torn, the bells rang in Gotham for the first time in Years.
He didn't miss.
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tw1l1te · 22 days
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Song of Storms
LU Sky x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ minors please DO NOT INTERACT, some fluff, angst
Fem reader is implied. Not necassarily final promise!au, so intepret it as you will. This one is a bit short, but I like it lol
~
Sky was mentally exhausted. Flying out on night watch was his least favorite part of the day because it meant he had to leave you. It meant that he couldn't feel your warm body against his, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you dreamed of serenity. On top of that, it had started to storm about an hour ago, barely being able to see his gloved hands in front of his face.
He was supposed to be returning to Skyloft now, but he had no sense of direction as the rain pelted against his goggles, fogging up the lenses no matter how many time he'd wiped them off.
A large lightining strike lit up the expanse of the night sky, Skyloft's outline just barely being visible miles away. If he flew straightforward, he should be able to make it before he was struck by lighting.
Petting Crimson, he flew fast, wind whipping his hair around, rain drops pelting his face harder and harder. It felt like tiny needles falling on his face, but he had to come home. He needed to come home to you, or you'd kill him.
His fingertips on the brink of frostbite, he sighs in relief when he sees the Knight's Academy come into view. Despite having the option of living on the surface, he felt nostalgic of his life in the sky, no matter what memories it brought.
Landing on the wooden deck, he yelled out to the Nightguard about getting Crimson somewhere safe, already enthraled with the thought of seeing you. Giving his Loftwing one last pet, he ran off to the entrance of the academy, already in the process of stripping his gloves off of his hands.
He pants as he closes the door behind him, the raging storm echoing off the walls. The hallway was dark, only the faint glow of the sconces on the wall illuminating his path to you. His home.
Turning right, he sighs in happiness seeing his door, knowing you were just on the other side, waiting for him. Your knight.
He unlocks the door, quietly walking in and closing the door behind you. The room was dimly lit with a few candles, you hunched over on the bed, reading a book Sky bought you. You quickly shut the book, running into his arms, ignoring how cold and wet he was.
"Holy goddesses, Sky! I was so fucking worried-"
He shuts you up with a passionate kiss, his entire body tense from the night's treachery. He needed this. He needed you.
"Shh, it's ok my Flower. I'm here, I'm home. I'm not going anywhere, ok?"
You nod, placing your forehead against his, relishing in the domseticity. You knew he's have to leave again tomorrow night, but you wanted him until then. You allowed yourself to be selfish, just this once.
~
"Fu-ah! Sky, fuckfuckfuck!-" you moaned, head tossed back on the pillow. Sky was above you, hips slamming at an astounding pace. You thought tonight was gonna be more slow and intimate, though you weren't complaining. You were in heaven.
"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezin' around me jus' like that. I'm gonna fill you up so good. So, so good."
You clawed at his chest, needing something to hold on to as the living daylight was being fucked out of you. Instead, Sky grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaving nothing in between him and you.
"Gonna fill your little pussy up so good. Make you nice and full with my kid. You'd love that, wouldn't you princess?"
You whimper loudly, arching off the bed. Sky brings his mouth to one of your breasts, his tongue circling the swollen bud. You wrap your legs around his waist, stars in front of your eyes as the coil in your stomach tightens.
"Mmh- Link! Link I'm gonna fucking cum- Linklinklinklink-"
And you came, hard. Clamping around his cock, he practically growled into your ear, chasing your orgasm with his own release. He shot thick white ropes inside of your heat, kissing your neck as you both calmed down, him slowing down his thrusts inside of you.
He lays on top of you, kissing your face lightly. He coos in your ear, praising you and how good you felt. His hands never leave your body, pawing at the plush of your thighs and kissing the curve of your breasts.
He suddenly flips you over so your on his lap, cock still nestled deep in your heat. Hands on your hips, he mutters:
"Let's really make sure you get pregnant this time, Princess. I wanna hear you sing for me."
~
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ramsayxme · 2 months
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Breaking My Bride
The sun rises and your heart sinks, for you know the day has finally come. You pull the woven blanket over your head, begging time to stop in its tracks. Nothing could prepare you for this day. You prayed to the Gods that it would never come, but it's here. Your wedding day.
You didn't sleep at all last night, knowing that you only had hours left until your existence was diminished to one word; 'bride'. No one would care that you enjoyed painting and that you could ride a horse better than any knight you had ever met. No one would care that you enjoyed singing. No one would care. You were betrothed to Ramsay Bolton, the evil and merciless heir to Winterfell.
You shut your eyes as you imagined your bed floating across the frozen sea, taking you... anywhere but here. King's Landing, The Eyrie, Dorne... you didn't care, but Winterfell was the last place you wanted to be right now. You grew up here, but Ramsay didn't. The Boltons took Winterfell from the Starks and everyday has felt even more grey and gloomy than the last. This was your home, but it didn't feel like home anymore.
You heard one of your newly appointed servants knock on your door and gently push the door open, a loud creaking flooding the silence. "My Lady, Lord Bolton has requested I come and prepare you for your wedding." You groaned under the covers. You didn't like having servants, it felt... wrong. You never had servants before and you managed just fine, you weren't sure you needed them now... but Ramsay insisted.
You felt the bed shift slightly as the servant girl sat down on the edge of your mattress. "My Lady." She whispered, her hand softly settling on your shoulder as she slowly jiggled your arm, an attempt to wake you. "I'm awake." You whispered. She stopped. "Sorry. Lord Bolton wants you to be up and getting dressed. He moved the ceremony up a few hours, he just can't wait to wed you..." Her voice trailed off. She was trying to sound excited, but you could sense the underlying tone. Fear. She was worried for you, and rightfully so.
"Why me?" You whispered as you poked your head out from under the covers, locking eyes with the girl. She looked ragged and exhausted, but she had deep and compassionate eyes. She looked at you, her eyesbrows crumpled to meet in the middle, forming a line on her forehead. "I don't know, My Lady." She whispered in return. "You could try running. Surely living in the snow and dying of frostbite would be more favorable than marrying that monster." She reached out and pet your hair. "I can't imagine..." She gave herself the chills just thinking about it.
"I haven't been able to sleep." You confess. "I don't want to marry him. I hate this arrangement between my father and him. I don't love him, and I do NOT respect him." You admit your true feelings out loud to the servant girl, hoping that you could trust her. "I understand..." she began. "But... Ramsay will be very angry with me if I don't help you get dressed. I can't make him angry with me." You held sympathy for her, knowing that Ramsay would unleash the wrath on her if you refused to get ready.
You sighed deeply as you sat up, the covers falling to your hips as you stretched. "Fine." You submitted to the day. There was nothing you could do to stop it.
********************
You were dressed in the finest white dress with the must luxurious white cloak. You saw your reflection in the mirror and gave a small twirl. You felt like a princess until you remembered who you were marrying, then you felt like a prisoner. You sighed as you picked up the hem from the floor and swayed across the floor to get your hair brushed. A few of your servants were in the room and whispering to each other. You couldn't be bothered to care, you were too obsessed in sulking in your own reality.
The same girl from earlier began brushing your hair. She began whispering to you. "My Lady, a few of the other servants and I... we spoke of your feelings about the day, and we want to help you escape. Nobody should be subjected to Ramsay's torture for life. We want to help you get away from Winterfell." You are a bit skeptical but at the same time, hopeful. You need to escape and you know you can't do it on your own. You slowly nod, her hair brush still stroking through your hair.
*******************
You follow the girl through the darker, dimly lit halls. You hold your dress up high around your chest in order to keep it from dragging. You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you keep running through the stone corridors. Were you really going to escape? Was this wedding not going to happen? You felt the flutter of excitement in your chest as you kept up with the servant. "Behind this door, take a left and run until you reach the side gates. Best of luck to you." She breathed. She swung the door open and stepped aside, allowing you to burst through it on your own.
You kept running and took a left, just as she instructed and you reached the outdoors. The gate had to be just around the corner, but you slammed straight into the wall. You took a few steps back and realized it wasn't a wall, it was Ramsay. He stood in front of you, hands clasped behind his back, head tilted slightly, lips tight together and eyes wild with anger. His curly dark hair licked under his earlobes and curled over the tips of his ears. His gaze was unwavering, he didn't just stare at you, but he stared into you.
"M- My Lord!" You exclaimed, your brain whirring around your skull trying to come up with an excuse. He took a deep inhale and exhale through his nose. His eyes scanned your face as he stepped closer. He was now nearly pressed up against you, his eyes wildly darting from each of yours. You feared he could read your mind.
Suddenly, a smile cracked across his face. "My Love. Where were you going?" He asked confidently, his voice smooth but threatening. You couldn't lie to yourself, Ramsay did scare the shit out of you. His power and psychotic tendencies were unmatched. You forced a smile and a quick burst of awkward laughter. "I must've been turned around, I was trying to head to-"
You were cut off by Ramsay's cold hand wrapping around your throat as he pushed you backwards against the castle wall. His grip around your throat was firm, but you knew he wasn't trying his hardest; it was just enough to restrict your throat from speaking and breathing normally. You watched as he seethed with anger, his teeth clenched together behind his pursed lips. Your hands instinctively reached up and grabbed his wrist and forearm, a plea for him to release you. You felt a flutter in your belly when you noticed how intensely his eyes were staring into yours.
His grip tightened just slightly. "You wouldn't try anything stupid, would you?" You squeaked as you attempted to answer him, but this just caused his hand to squeeze around your throat tighter. "You're lucky I don't take whats mine right now..." His eyes wandered down your neck, slowly examining your body. You felt that fluttering again as you watched him take you in. You couldn't possibly enjoy this. You ignored the fluttering in your belly and you began fighting back.
With your free hands, you reached up and grabbed fist fulls of Ramsay's hair. Before you could second guess yourself, you yanked on his hair, attempting to pull him away from you. To your surprise, his eyes fluttered and his lips parted slightly as he exhaled a groan. He didn't budge. "Feisty one, aren't you?" He chuckled. His other hand reached to your shoulder and he tugged on your cloak, releasing the soft skin of your shoulder.
Ramsay leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder flesh, causing more squeaks to come from your throat. He growled as he bit down hard, you were sure he was breaking the skin. His teeth released you as he let go of your throat. However, you weren't free. His hands gripped your shoulders as he kept your back pushed against the cold stone wall. "Now, I want you to listen very carefully. Can you do that?" His tone was taunting your intelligence.
You nodded, still ignoring the fluttering in your belly. "You will behave yourself at the wedding. You will say what you are supposed to say, and you will be my bride. Do you understand me?" His eyes widened when you hesitated, he was nearly snarling at you. "Yes..." you whispered. "Good." He praised you, the weight of his anger suddenly lifted. "Now, run along. I'll see you shortly, my love." He turned you around and shoved you back toward the direction that you ran from. You meekly sauntered back inside the castle.
********************
It was time. Ramsay was repeating his vows and you were standing there waiting your turn. The whole population of Winterfell had come to see your wedding. You knew you had no choice but to marry Ramsay. There was no escape. There was no way out. Your brain thoughts around your brain, a desperate attempt to find a way out of this situation.
"Do you take this man?" The Maester's voice broke through your thoughts as you realized Ramsay was staring at you and the Maester was waiting your response. "Oh." You slammed back into reality. "I..." You began, your eyes brushed through the crowd of people. Most were staring at their feet, not really excited to witness this forced marriage. You were about to make a run for it, but then you saw it. One of Ramsay's men was perched on a small tower of Winterfell with an arrow nocked and drawn in your direction. You felt your heart sink. You knew if there was one, there were likely many. You had to do this.
"I...I take this man."
*********************
With the slam of the door and a click of a lock, you were alone with your husband; what a horrifying thing. As Ramsay finished locking the door, you looked around your new bed chambers that you would share with him. The room was massive with multiple fireplaces aglow. The bed was plush and covered with pelts and rich furs. The windows were almost cathedral, allowing the light to drape the stone floor in a warm glow.
"Are you pleased, My Lady?" Ramsay asked, his voice breaking your thoughts. "Um... yes." You whispered. No, you weren't. You would give anything to be on the other side of that locked door. "You're not lying to me, are you?" Ramsay began walking towards you. You shook your head, but you knew he could read your fear. You didn't personally know Ramsay very well, but you had heard many rumors of his behavior. You knew he was a menace, a monster, a real bastard.
Ramsay approached you, his cloak crossing his chest with leather straps. You watched him as he unhooked the straps, allowing his cloak to fall to the floor. You felt your breath hitch in your throat. "Now, you belong to me. Do you know what that means?" He asked in the same demeaning tone. "No." You whisper your answer, refusing to make eye contact with him.
He stepped closer, completely closing the gap between the two of you. His hands slowly pushed your hair behind your ears and he held your face in his hands. His blue eyes pierced your attempts of having a hard exterior, you felt yourself grow soft under his dominant gaze. You had to admit... He was very handsome. If he weren't so evil, perhaps you would even feel blessed by the Gods to have such a handsome husband.
You simply stared at him as his rough hands caressed your soft face. One of his thumbs grazed your lips as he examined you. "Such a pretty girl, all for me." He whispered as he leaned in to kiss you. You weren't sure what compelled you, but you pulled away from the kiss. This was not the response Ramsay wanted, and you knew it immediately.
His eyes widened, his stare almost punishing you. You sunk into submission in his hands, your lips parted to let a whimper escape your mouth. Before you could grovel, Ramsay spun you around and pressed your back against his chest. "That was not the right answer, love." He whispered as you felt a pressure on your shoulder blades. Ramsay ripped open your dress, destroying the delicate stitching and sending small beads flying across the stone floor. "I was going to be gentle with you, seeing how timid you are..." He began. "But, I don't think I want you assuming that I am a gentle lover. No, no, you see... I take what I want, however I want."
You felt a lump in your throat as his rough hands were shoved in the rip of your dress, pulling it open completely. He ripped it down, yanking the stitching completely open until it fell on the floor and left you naked and cowering. You felt your cheeks grow hot as you attempted to cover your vulnerable body from him.
Ramsay snickered as he yanked your arms to your sides by your wrists. His chin nudged its way into the crook of your neck as he exhaled onto the skin on the side of your throat. "You'll quickly learn how this works." He bit down on your shoulder meat, making you cry out in pain. His body lurched forward when you tried to lean away from him, pressing himself against you even harder than before. He grabbed your waist and gripped tightly, maneuvering your body back to its original location. You knew you were about to be his puppet.
Ramsay opened his jaw and let go of your shoulder only to whisper into your ear, "Walk to the bed." You didn't dare disobey his order. You walked to the bed as he watched. "I am a skilled lover, believe it or not." He complimented himself. You didn't want to believe him, but you had a feeling he was right. That fluttering was constantly pulsing through your core and lower belly. The power he used against you was almost... sexy.
You crawled onto the bed and crumbled, turning around to watch him slowly walk closer to the bed, like a predator getting ready to pounce. His eyes were glued to your body, and you watched his hands undo his trousers. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them. You were curious, but too afraid to look away from his face. He still slowly approached you as he lifted his wool shirt over his head and threw it on the stone floor. Your husband stood naked in front of you.
You took in the sight. His body was toned, the outlines of muscles peeking through his otherwise slender frame. His blue veins stood out against his horribly pale skin. Your eyes continued to wander. His lower stomach had a trail of fuzzy hair that led to his erection. You stared as he reached a hand down and grabbed the base of his arousal, showing it off to you. "Your husband's cock." He said in a sing-song voice. "You must love the sight."
He kneeled on the bed and crawled on top of you. You felt very nervous, the anxiety hitting you like a train. This was really going to happen and there was quite literally nothing you could do about it. You felt your heart race and you began to panic. You tried to wriggle away, but Ramsay kept you in place. "No need to panic, shh..." He chuckled as he began kneading at your hips with one hand while the other hand held him slightly above you.
You felt your eyes fill with tears as you realized how weak you were. Ramsay lowered his head. His warm, wet mouth opened and took in one of your soft nipples. You felt as he swirled his tongue gently and gradually added suction until he was suckling on your hard nipple. Your body was reacting to his touch, even if you weren't aware of it. He reached up and rolled your other nipple in between his index finger and thumb, slightly pinching it. You allowed your breathing to slow as you felt tiny waves of electricity radiate from your nipples down to your lower belly.
You exhaled as you lowered your head to the pillows, allowing Ramsay's mouth to coax your into relaxation. He hummed softly as he felt you relax ever so slightly. Without warning, Ramsay bit down on your nipple. Not extremely hard, not enough to draw blood, but it caught you by surprise. You let out a... moan? You weren't sure if it was a moan of pleasure or a yelp of pain. You felt him grin into your breast as he pinched harder with his other hand.
Your body lurched forward, your back arching as it did so. Ramsay growled as his other hand snuck behind the small of your back, pulling you up further. "You like this, don't you?" He groaned before going back to suckling on your sensitive nipple. You mewled, barely making any noise. He slowly lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. "I asked you if you liked what I was doing." He was clearly demanding a verbal answer. "Y..Yes..." You muttered, your cheeks flushing red immediately.
The way Ramsay looked at you... it made you feel that same fluttering. You couldn't help but feel like he was excited to dive in head first and devour you. You felt like a prize, the way his eyes widened when you squirmed underneath him. Like a sexy game of tug-o-war. He wanted you, and secretly... you liked feeling wanted by a man with this much power...
Ramsay's mouth suddenly crashed into yours, his lips surprisingly soft and supple. You had expected crusty, chapped, and cold... but they were warm... soft... You couldn't help but eagerly kiss him back. Your lips moved together, his tongue slithering into your mouth as he exhaled and squeezed your hip. Oh Gods. The fluttering.
He formed a rhythm with his lips and his hips. He was slowly grinding against you, his skin hot against your thigh. His exhales were controlled, not as jumpy as yours were. He was clearly in complete control of both you and himself. He pulled away from the kiss and you opened your eyes, unsurprisingly finding his own staring deeply into you. Without saying a word, he flipped you over so you were on top of him. You rested your weight on his upper thighs, very aware of his hardness in between your legs. He was grinding his teeth and now had both of his hands gripping the softness on your hips.
"Come here." Ramsay whispered, his voice smooth and low. You weren't sure where he wanted you, so you hesitated. He spun you around. Now facing his feet, you gasped with shock when his hands found your hips and he pulled you down onto his face. His warm tongue immediately began slithering up and down your slit, lapping up the warmth that had formed between your legs. You exhaled a moan as you allowed pleasure to flood your body.
Ramsay kept you pulled down, sitting on his face. You felt a little self conscious, but didn't have a say in the matter. You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on his upper thighs to hold yourself steady. He moved his hands from your hips to your ass and pulled at the plump skin, pushing and pulling as he continued to lick you. You felt weak and shaky. You lowered yourself to your elbows, resting on either side of his thighs. You opened your eyes and realized how close his cock was to your face.
You were floating with pleasure, his tongue working at your core, eating you like he was starving. The slurping sounds would've been enough to make you hide for a week in embarrassment, but you couldn't be bothered by it right now. You couldn't help it, this eager force within you was begging you to make a move on your husband. You cautiously opened your mouth and allowed the warm head of his cock to enter between your lips. Ramsay groaned as you did this, the vibrations echoing between your thighs.
You started swirling your tongue, feeling the smooth skin of his tip against your mouth. You closed your lips, applying slight suction as you allowed a bit more in your mouth. Ramsay began licking you harder, a bit more desperately. His hands reached up to the small of your back, pushing your back into an arch. You groaned as you took more of his cock into your mouth. You felt Ramsay pull away from your cunt for a moment, resting his head on the pillows. "That's right, that feels so good." He moaned.
Ramsay kept his head on the pillows as he brought one of his hands to your core. He slid his index and middle finger up and down on your slit, collecting the saliva and wetness. You were now bobbing up and down slightly, allowing his cock to enter your throat. Ramsay pushed the two fingers into your soaking cunt which allowed a hungry whimper from your lungs. "That feels so good, doesn't it?" He asked. You could feel him watching your cunt, watching his fingers slide in and out. His eyes were likely wide and full of arousal. You melted at the thought.
You continued pleasuring Ramsay with your mouth, you were so focused on it that you didn't even notice when he stopped fingering you. "Face me." He demanded. You pushed your leg over him, and got between his legs, looking up at him. His jaw was tensed, his teeth grinding inside. He reached down and cupped his balls, pushing them forward. "Suck on them." He instructed. You opened your mouth and began swirling your tongue around on them. He gripped his cock and began stroking himself, watching you intensely.
"My beautiful wife." He breathed as he licked his bottom lip, staring at you. You refused to break eye contact as you continued to swirl your tongue. Perhaps Ramsay wasn't as evil to someone that was vulnerable with him. He wasn't overly vicious so far, and actually was somewhat of a generous lover... eating you out and fingering you before he demanded anything from you. Of course, you were wrong.
Ramsay grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked, pulling you away from his erection and pressed your face against his thigh. You yelped in pain and your hands reached up to hold his hand, hoping he would release your hair. "Use your hand on me." He demanded. You didn't immediately obey, and he yanked on your hair once more. He pulled you up so your head lay on his chest. You quickly wrapped your hand around his cock and began stroking him. "Like this, My Lord?" You asked, wanting to be sure you were pleasing him.
"Yes, yes... just like that. You can be quite a good listener, can't you?" He cooed, his hand still wrapped in your hair. You nodded softly as you continued to stroke your husband. You were feeling warmth between your legs once more, your body aching for him. Ramsay reached his arm around your throat and began choking you. You stopped stroking him, perhaps a reflex of the choking. He growled. "I did not say stop!" He barked and tightened his grip around your throat.
You obeyed. You began stroking him again while he choked you, his arm wrapped behind the back of your neck. You were sputtering, struggling to breathe. His grip was tighter than before. You were stroking him feverishly. He was grinding his teeth, his eyes glued to your hand on his hard cock. Suddenly, his grip died. He let go of your throat and yanked you up to his face by your hair. His lips crashed into yours again.
He pulled your hips up and onto his lap. Before you could react, he shoved his cock into you. You screamed into his mouth, his arousal stretching your walls beyond anything before. Pain shot through your core, and you instinctively tried to pull yourself off of him. His grip on your hips was strong, and he forced you down. "Hold still." He grunted as he shoved deeper, his whole length slamming into you. You whined, the pain radiating through your body.
Ramsay didn't care about your pain. He didn't care that you were whimpering and had tears filling your eyes. In fact, he enjoyed it. You felt him twitch inside you as you groaned, attempting to breathe through the stretching feeling. "Ride me." Ramsay demanded. You couldn't. You tried moving up and down and it felt like fire tearing through you. You were a virgin, and Ramsay had to know it at this point. "I said ride me." Ramsay demanded, his eyes turning serious as he stared into your soul.
"I... I can't..." You cried out, your body begging you for a break. Ramsay rolled his eyes and huffed an irritated sigh. He shoved you off of him, a gasp escaping your throat. "Oh, thank you..." You whimpered. "We can go slower and-" Before you could finish your sentence, Ramsay flipped you over and mounted you. You laid on your back as he pulled your ankles to his shoulders. "Slower? No... no, you stupid girl. I told you earlier. I get what I want. I always get what I want. Even if it means I break my bride tonight, I will get what I want." Ramsay's mouth ripped into an evil grin.
He shoved his cock into you once more, this angle wasn't as painful but it was not comfortable. He began pumping in and out of you, his eyes moving up and down with him. He stared at your face, enjoying the pain taking over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip. You involuntarily whined each time he pushed into you, his erection seemingly forcing the whimper to bubble up.
Ramsay fucked you happily while you squirmed beneath him. The pain was dulling after a minute and your body was growing used to his size. The wetness between your legs was letting him know that you were starting to enjoy the feeling. He was sliding in and out of you quickly, his rhythm steady and forceful. "I see you're starting to like the feeling, aren't you?" He moaned between breaths. "Yes... Yes... It feels... good." You moaned, realizing that your body was craving this feeling. You wanted more.
"M...M..." You tried begging for more, trying not to think about what you were doing. You couldn't believe that you were begging Ramsay to fuck you harder, maybe you were more of a whore than you thought. "More... More!" You whined. Ramsay stopped and leaned back, his eyes wide. He chuckled, his sharp teeth flashing. "You want more, do you? My wife is such a whore!" He bit down, his teeth barred as he flipped you over. You were on your knees and Ramsay was behind you.
He entered you and began sliding into you hard and fast. You felt the warmth rise in your belly. Ramsay yanked your hair back and choked you with the crook of his elbow once he pulled you up. “I love choking you. I love knowing how much power I have over you. You love it too. I know you do.” He growled. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you felt lightheaded from the lack of air flow. Ramsay let your neck go, falling forward as he began kneading your cheeks and hips. He was yanking your body against him as he thrust forward, his cock slamming into you hard.
He leaned forward, his cock plunging deep inside you, and he bit down on your shoulder as he continued thrusting. You began whimpering his name as you felt the heat rise. You had never felt this warmth in your core before, and each of Ramsays thrusts coaxed it to the surface. He reached around and under your body, his hands finding your breasts. He groped and grabbed at your chest and held you tightly against him. He let go of his bite and his lips touched your ear. “You love getting fucked by me, don’t you? And you’re ashamed of how good it feels.” He pants softly into your ear, sending chills down your spine.
“Yes… I love it…” You whimper, feeling utterly defeated. Ramsay pulls out of you and rolls you over. “Now, I want to watch you completely submit to me.” Your brain feels as if it’s melted. Ramsay pushes himself in you once more. He starts thrusting away. Your gaze hovers from his face to your center. You watch his body meet yours, his member disappearing with each thrust of his hips. You look back up at his face. His eyes are serious, his teeth grit tightly together. He watches you intensely as his hand makes its way down your body.
He gently starts rubbing right above your center which sends a huge wave of sensitivity through your body. You struggle to keep your composure as Ramsay rolls his fingers softly around your bundle of nerves. He fucks you mercilessly, but keeps his fingers gentle against this extremely sensitive area. He finds a rhythm and sticks to it. Your body responds fairly quickly, and you feel a warmth building in your center. Ramsay smirks confidently, you know he can read your facial expressions easily. “Don’t hold back. Good girl.” Ramsay praises you as you start to climb higher in this wave of intensity.
“Ramsay… I…” you start to sputter a few whimpers. Ramsay shushes you and doesn’t break the rhythm. “Let it happen. I want to watch my wife drown in pleasure.” Your eyes are growing harder to keep open but you see Ramsay flash his grin before you close your eyes and allow your build up to erupt. You feel a wave crash over your body as Ramsays gentle fingers seem to start vibrating with electricity. You let out a groan that feels almost guttural, and your back arches against his chest. He keeps fucking you, his cock slamming into your body with passion. You realize Ramsay is coming as well, his seed filling you. He groans and stiffens his body as he pushes into you with need. You can’t help it, you run your fingers up his bare back and into his hair. You feel animalistic as you grip your husband’s curls and allow your body to harbor his orgasm.
After you both catch your breath, Ramsay rolls over and slides out of you. He turns to you and grins. “Get used to that happening, my love.” Unfortunately, you couldn’t get enough. You were already excited for tomorrow night. It only took one time for Ramsay to break you, perhaps you were weaker than you thought.
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alalaya2 · 1 year
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First AO3 Previous Next
Tim Drakes sleep habits save the earth
Part 3 In the Zone
While Wulf took Ellie to safety the council of the infinite realm gathered. They had been chosen by their young king’s core as the ghost he trusted the most. The head Three were Clockwork, Pandora, Frostbite followed by Dora, Ghosts Writer, Fright Knight and Lady Gotham.
“Clockwork why have you gathered us here and not Phantom” asked Pandora.
Clockwork stayed in his old man form and looked tired. Normally he would be changing from one age to another. It was a little disconcerting to see him so. ” When Phantom took the throne, he made me promise to protect his family and if he ever were to fall stop him. The timelines showed me that your phantom had not been taken then Ellie would would have been destroyed. Ellie’s death would have shattered his core, and what would be left would be something worse than anything Paris Dark ever was. As it is, he will still need rescued and we will have to wait a bit.”
Frostbite was not happy to hear this” what do you mean the great one has been taken. What has happened to him and what has happened to Ellie.”
Clockwork grimaced “ as of right now he is being captured by the GIW they were chasing Ellie in one timeline. He would’ve been home and Ellie would’ve been captured and destroyed. By the time Phantom would learn of this, it would be too late. So I finally told him that he was now king. This caused him to be out and see the GIW chasing princess Ellie. I was able to send Wulf to save Ellie but not Phantom as of right now he is in the hands of the GIW.”
Fright Knight jumped up causing his chair to crash to the floor. ” Then why are we not going to save our young king?”
Clockwork drew into himself he knew what must be done but he didn’t like it. “ if it were that simple I would’ve already gotten him myself. I have looked through billions of timelines and all of them. This is the best outcome we can hope for. Right now the green lanterns have found out about the anti-Ecto acts and they are not happy about them. Apparently the space police have something against humans trying to destroy an entire dimension worth of beings. Lady Gotham we need you to coordinate with your Knights I know because of your curse it is hard to communicate with them but Dora will help you. Pandora and Fright knight you need to meet Hal on Oa and let him know that the GIW had captured our king the have 72 hours to return him are we will take it as a declaration of war.”
Ghost Writer was very quiet he didn’t always get along with the young king but once they started talking about stories they had become friends. “Clockwork I know you said that this is one of the best timelines but will Phantom be okay?”
Clockwork had a white knuckle grip on his scepter “ not at first, no he will not be all right at first, but give it a little time and he’ll be in much better for it. It’s just gonna suck till then. Wulf will be here soon. Someone needs to take care of Ellie she will want to help but not this time as of right now, she is the heir to the throne, and we must protect her. Frostbite she’s going to need medical attention, and when we get our king back, so will he.” Clockwork looked to they side as Wulf came in with Ellie.
“ Pawpaw” Ellie cried out in distress “ they took him they took Papa.” She lunged at Clockwork  Burying her face in his cloak.
Clockwork is careful not to touch her back, giving Frostbite access to her wound. “ do not worry for all is as it should be..”
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rainycat2 · 1 year
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Though I Could Not Stop For Death / Death Kindly Stopped For Me
Chapter Three: Make the Plan
Danny’s list of things to do in Gotham was simple. Truly.
Step one: Get into Gotham without getting Batman on his tail. Easy. He’s not a meta.
Step two: find Red Hood and figure out what in the hell is so wrong with his Vibes that Lady Gotham herself asks for help. Lady Gotham never asks for help.
Step Three: find the Joker, knock his shit out, and drag his soul back for sentencing.
Step four: get the hell out of dodge.
Simple! Quick, easy, something that won’t take more than a week if all goes well, Danny reasoned as he packed a suitcase. And if it takes longer, well, the family had had a conversation a day ago about this situation.
His parents were understanding, if a bit disappointed that Danny had to go off elsewhere, but Jazz quickly turned their moods around by mentioning that she had a college tour at Gotham University for their psychology partnership with Arkham. Her car was therefore packed, pressed suit jackets and slacks hanging up on a rod in the backseat, her suitcase tucked neatly into the trunk, ready for Danny’s to join it.
One more checklist, just to be sure.
Clothes for a week? Check. Cash in his wallet? Check. A backpack full of weapons, ectoplasmic shots, Ecto-Dejecto, bandages, and Fenton fishing line? Check. His sword hilt? Check.
Danny hesitated, looking back at the armor folded carefully in the back of his closet. After a moment’s thought, he transformed into Phantom, shaking the armor out and holding it up to himself in the mirror.
He was taller, now. More filled out in the shoulders, his body put through hell and back. His fighting style had shaped him, shifting from the lean, smaller, quicker physique of his past into a stronger, more muscled brawler type. The armor wouldn’t fit, naturally-- he was fifteen, now, not eight.
Danny examined his jumpsuit in the mirror, looking himself up and down. Pauldrons, wrist braces, shin guards… He could do without the front flare of the tunic, though. Heavier armor on his knuckles, an empty sheath on his hip for a sword he no longer had.
It would do, for his purposes. Besides, Frostbite and Fright Knight had been bugging him to add more armor to his Phantom form, given the amount that he got knocked around. Mainly into buildings. Yeah, it made sense.
A white ring split from his waist, his clothing shifting, new pieces appearing. A crown resting on his brow, his ring on his finger. Danny looked at himself again, at the armor from his past and his present mixed and melded together.
A nod, then Danny shifted back, dropping the few inches back down to the ground-- right in time, too, as Mom stuck her head in the door. “Are you almost ready, sweetheart?” she asked, entering his bedroom with a thermos in hand. “I know you’ve probably packed plenty, but I made you an ectoplasm smoothie.”
Relief flitted across his face as Danny grinned, ducking in close for a quick hug. “You’re a lifesaver, Mom,” he praised, taking pleasure in his core purring. Family-content-safe-family. “I could go for a pick-me-up, I just changed my outfit a little.”
“Ooh!” Maddie laughed, getting on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. “You’re going to keep it from us until you get home? Despicable,” she teased.
Danny flushed, rubbing his neck embarrassedly. “Oh, psh, mom. I’m only changing it for Gotham specifically-- a HAZMAT jumpsuit tends to stand out a little, you know?”
Maddie’s smile softened as she pushed the thermos into Danny’s grip, dancing nimbly away to the duffle bag on the bed. One last checkover- because of course, she’s a mother, she has to make sure he has everything he needs (and if Danny’s core warmed slightly at the gesture, the care she showed, that’s for him to know). “I think you have everything, honey. Just.. be careful, okay?” she asked, zipping up his duffle and clipping it to the handle of his suitcase.
“Mom, I’m going to be fine. At most, this’ll take a week, maybe three,” he brushed off, taking the handle from Maddie as he offered her his arm. “Jazz is going to look at her college, and I’m going to investigate as best I can. If I have a free day or two, I might go with her. Now-- do you want to take the fast way down, or the boring, normal way?”
Mom blinked, then beamed. “Oh! Of course, Danny, just let me get ready,” she fretted, adjusting her suit before linking her elbow in his. She nodded, and Danny let gravity slip away, shifting them both intangible as she gasped in delight.
God, Danny was never going to get used to this. His parents delighting in his powers, letting him show them off, trusting them with his secret. It was a relief and a joy that he wished he could reassure his fourteen-year-old self about. That a year later, things would be looking up again.
Danny let them drop, falling from the second floor to the first by the front door, then let their presence in the world slip back into existence, dropping to the ground with a faint thump. Maddie just beamed at him, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “I’m so proud of you, Danny,” she said softly. “You’ve come such a long way.”
The blush from earlier only flamed up as Danny laughed, deflecting instantly. “Ah, well, the only reason I’ve progressed so much is yours and Dad’s help.”
Maddie just shook her head fondly, opening the front door. “Alrighty, Mr. Humble, let’s get you packed up and on the road. You’ve got about five hours to your first stop in Cincinnati, then another five to Pittsburg. If you push it, you might be able to get to Gotham before nightfall, but don’t drive if you don’t feel like you can-- and Danny, that does not mean you can shift and pick the car up invisibly,” she scolds. “You have your permit, and Jazz can be the licensed driver in the car, so you can get some practice hours in. Lord knows you need it.”
Danny just snickered as he opened the trunk, sliding his suitcase on top of Jazz’s, then closing it, his duffle bag on his shoulder. “Mom, we’re going to be fine,” he assured her. “We can get a hotel if we need, I may or may not have Vlad’s credit card, and have plenty of gas and snacks. I’m not going to do anything stupid on a finite amount of ectoplasm, honestly.”
“You know, I’m going to discard the comment about Vlad right now, just because I’m worried about you,” Maddie sighed as Jazz leaned against the car, Jack double-checking the tires. “There should be enough ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, but we can’t be sure--”
“Lady Gotham has already agreed to host us, Mom,” Jazz snorted. “If there’s enough ectoplasm for a city ghost, let alone one as old as her, Danny’s gonna be just fine. And besides, he can always open a portal into the Realms.”
“Okiedokie, can we stop loudly discussing this in the street?” Danny protested. “Let’s get this show on the road, c’mon.”
“Okay, Danno, okay,” Jack hummed as he got back to his feet before patting Danny on the shoulder. “I know you’re anxious to get this done, so we’ll not drag this out, but…” Swiftly, Jack pulled his son into a hug. “Just be safe, okay, kiddo?”
Danny smiled back, letting his core rumble audibly. “Dad, we’re going to be fine. Jazz has the Peeler, I have weapons aplenty, so I won’t even need to shift to Phantom. We’re gonna be fine. In and out.”
“Just humor me, and text us when you get to your stops,” Jack sighed exasperatedly, ruffling Danny’s hair, proudly ignoring the protests as Danny tried and failed to get his hair back into a somewhat manageable floof.
“We’re going to be fine,” Danny repeated. “Red’s covering my patrols, you guys are helping out, and Vlad’s agreed to keep an eye out and play nice. Sam and Tucker are going to meet us next week for that Gala you got us tickets to. We’ll all head back together, now stop fussing, jeez. Prince of the Infinite Realms, and I’m gonna get fussed to death,” he grumbled, no heat in the action as he climbed into the passenger seat.
---
Okay, so maybe Danny underestimated how goddamn boring this drive was going to be. Logically, okay, he understood that Illinois and Indiana were, like, 90% farmland with the exceptions of Indianapolis and and Chicago.
But man.
Staring out the window listening to Jazz’s pop music playlist for three hours straight was really starting to get to him. Idly, he dug into the duffle bag for a set of Fenton Fones, tucking one into his ear as he set the other one on the center console. “Jazz, I’m going to go insane if I listen to one more goddamn boy band,” he said seriously. “I won’t go far, I’m just gonna fly above you. Is that okay?”
Jazz sighed, then nodded as she tucked the earbud into place. “Stay somewhere you can see me and get to me fast,” she instructed. “And don’t explore! At most, fly a mile ahead and tell me about the traffic.”
“Okay, okay,” Danny snickered, dropping intangible and invisible, shifting to Phantom before he’d even left the car. “Come in, Worst Shot, can you hear me?”
The comm link crackled slightly, then came in clear. “Loud and clear, Inviso-Bill, if we’re doing stupid nicknames.”
“You wound me,” Danny said dramatically, flipping onto his back as he lazily flew above the car, a good two hundred feet up. “I’m around, J. Directly above you, in fact, going sixty-five miles per hour. Really, the exact speed limit?”
“I really, really don’t want to get pulled over with ectoplasmic shots in the car, much less weapons.”
“...You know what, that’s fair, actually. Ooh, there’s a wreck on the road a bit ahead, maybe a mile and a half? If you take the next exit, then get back on the highway, you should be able to circumvent it.”
“Better than satellite GPS,” Jazz teased as Danny watched her take the exit. “I’m gonna stop and stretch. Are you needed at the wreck?”
“I don’t think so,” Danny mused as he watched her pull into a truck stop. “But I’m gonna go look, just in case.”
“I figured, Little Brother. Go, do your thing. I’ll get you a Mountain Dew.”
Danny laughed as he muted his microphone, flipping around and shooting towards the ground, letting himself slow down gradually. A check to ensure he was still invisible and intangible before he looked around the scene of the accident. One car flipped, the other swerved off the road. He winced as he looked at the flipped car, then glanced at the swerved one. The second driver was going to be fine, he could tell, but the first…
The tether between the driver and life was growing thin, Danny could tell from here. Gently, he let himself land, slowly approaching the car before he crouched next to the broken window. “Hey there,” he greeted, looking at the driver.
She couldn’t be more than her mid-twenties, blonde hair sticky and strawberry pink with blood. Bruising across her face and chest, her breathing wheezy and wet. “Who’s there? Please… help me?”
Danny glanced at the other car, ensuring he was out of view of the road and the other driver before he let himself slip into visibility. The girl gasped softly, her eyes unfocused but determined to look at him. “You-- what?”
“Hey, hey. You’re going to be okay,” Danny murmured. “It’s just… I’m sorry, but I can’t help you as you are. But I can help you, in a way. You have a choice, here-- your tether to life is fading, but I can either strengthen it or cut it.”
The girl stared for a moment at him before coughing. “W-why on earth would you make me pick? Aren’t you Death?”
Danny waved his hand. “Ah, not quite, more like her errand boy,” he joked. “As for the choice… it’s yours to make. This accident is serious enough that you will not recover, not fully. From experience, you’ll most likely be in a vegetative state, if you don’t have a DNR. But if you choose to pass, I can escort you to your afterlife, and make sure you won’t feel any more pain,” he says simply.
“Are you an angel, then?”
“Again, not quite,” Danny laughs. “I’m more like… Charon, if you’re familiar with Greek mythos. A ferryman, or an escort to the afterlife.”
“I…” the girl glanced around, looking tiredly at herself, then back to Danny, her head falling backwards. “Okay. Okay, um… can you…?”
Danny just smiled softly, reassuringly, as he reached out to her and gently took her hand. As he stood up, she stood up with him, stepping out of the car with a sigh. Her aura was small, a low silver glow as they stood, looking back at the car. “Is.. is that it?” she asked, examining her body in the car. “That’s everything?”
“That’s it,” Danny confirmed, waving his hand as a door appeared. It was white, gold filigree decorating the otherwise plain door. “Alright, this is your stop. Catholic, right?”
She nodded. “Y-yes. Yes. I’m ready,” she said, stepping slightly towards the door. “Is… is it okay?”
“Go on,” Danny encouraged, squeezing her hand. “You’re going to be great.”
She smiled shyly, her free hand landing on the handle before she twisted, opening the door as golden light spilled out. “It… what’s your… name?”
“Phantom,” Danny answered. “Go on, Emily. You’ve got a lot of family waiting on you.”
Emily paused, then ducked towards Danny, pulling him into a tight hug. Danny tensed briefly, then laughed, hugging her back. “Go on, Emily,” he grinned, ushering her on. “Go rest.”
Emily smiled one more time, then stepped into the doorway, the door shutting behind her.
Phantom smiled back.
---
They made it to Pittsburg before both siblings gave up the ghost (ha) and paid for a hotel, texting their parents and sending a location pin before turning in. The next day, Danny took the wheel for the rest of the drive, but the closer and closer they got to Gotham, New Jersey, the more and more anxious he got. Gotham was… if the rest of the state was quiet (which was a bad description for pretty much everywhere of note in the United States, but especially the East Coast), Gotham was a big old set of discordant church bells all going off at once. Not literally, thank the Ancients, but that was the closest description he could give.
But once they crossed the city border? All of that silenced for a moment as Danny took a breath, let it out. A presence rubbed his shoulder, a motherly laugh in his ear.
“I will await you on the Wayne Hotel roof, young King,” Gotham murmured, then dipped away.
Danny grumbled, shaking it off with a shiver. “Ancients help me from intentionally spooky and vague city spirits,” he huffed, getting a laugh from his sister as she looked up from her phone.
“That bad?”
“She awaits me,” he snorted. “Man. I know she’s been around for kind of forever, but still.”
“Your guardian is literally the God of Time.”
“Well, yes, but-- oh look our hotel!” Danny quickly changed the subject as they turned off the main road. When Vlad had heard that they were visiting Gotham, well. The billionaire practically couldn’t help himself in setting them up in one of the nicest hotels in the city.
It’s not what you can do for nepotism, it’s what nepotism can do for you. And what your godfather’s incessant need to both show off, provide for you, and also upstage another billionaire in his own city.
Danny was out of the car first, tossing the keys to Jazz as he rubbed his face, taking a deep breath before letting it out. Ah, Gotham.
The last time he was here, he was.. What, seven? A year before…
He rubbed his chest, then shook his head as he went to get a luggage cart. Not worth thinking about, that part of his life was long gone. He just had to stay out of the path of the Bat and his Birds, check in with the Red Hood, then get out.
Of course, he wasn’t as oblivious as he pretended he was, once. There was the intrinsic flaw that Red Hood was a former Robin, and had returned to working with the Bat-Clan, albeit on and off. Not to mention dragging that dumb fucking clown back to the Realms to face justice was definitely going to get attention.
At least only attention on Phantom, who the League had no idea about. And even if they did figure out who he was, they assumed he was dead. Nothing they can do about death.
…Shit, right, the Pits. Okay. Later--
Danny grunted, jerked out of his musings as he clipped his toe on a wheel, doing a bit of fancy footwork to fix his balance as he looked at the woman. “Oh, hell, I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. Shit, wheelchair. Shit, he just kicked her wheelchair.
The woman looked back at him strangely, tucking a piece of red hair behind her ear as she shifted herself back. “No, it’s-- don’t worry about it, you looked like you were thinking pretty hard,” she said, setting her hands in her lap. “Are you new to Gotham?”
“Just visiting,” Danny confirmed. “I don’t plan to stay long, just a week or two.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business,” Danny laughed. “Unless you count ‘college tour’ as pleasure, which I don’t.”
She tilted her head. “You don’t look old enough for college-- but pardon me if you’re a child prodigy, or whatever.”
Danny waved his hand idly as he started stacking the luggage. “My sister, she’s a psych student. Said that if she can make it here, she can make it anywhere. I argued she could do that in New Orleans or any other big city, but alas, Arkham or bust,” he snorted, setting his duffle bag on top.
“Ah. Well, just… as a Gothamite, just make sure she’s aware that most of our psychology students either turn into Rogues, get kidnapped by Rogues, or leave after a semester. Sometimes both.”
“Oh, she’s aware. Honestly? Can’t be crazier than home,” Danny hummed, glancing over her shoulder to the front desk. “I’m sorry, she’s calling me over. It was nice to meet you, though, Ms…?”
“Barbara,” she answered, blue eyes glinting in the light, meeting his own. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Danny,” he confirmed. “Sorry about tripping on your chair.”
“No worries, kid.” She shook her head fondly as Danny walked off, pulling the cart behind him. With years of stealth and practice, she slipped her phone out, switching to camera mode before taking a picture.
Wayne Family Dumbasses:
Eyeinthesky: damian clone or incoming adoption bait? Place your bets here.
Everyone is typing…
TAGLIST: @mynameisnotlaura @fisticuffsatapplebees @screamingtofillthevoid @lizisipancardo @digitizedworld @dahliasandrosemary
NEXT CHAPTER: ==>
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grailfinders · 8 months
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Grailfinders #321: Kama (Avenger)
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yep, we’re finally getting the second half of the summer done. Avenger Kama is an odd duck… er, parrot… but still, she’s the biggest departure from the original build we’ve done all Summer, going from a cleric/fighter to a Draconic Sorcerer and Genie Warlock- the former to give her some water manipulation tactics (or… ice, I guess. both of them are screwed over by WotC’s fire bias, but water even moreso), and the latter for a parrot you can stuff a person into. yes this is an important part of the build.
check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
next up: I sea serpent, I ride it
Ancestry & Background
incinerated gods still aren’t typical pcs in D&D, so I guess we’re going with Custom Lineage again. some things never change. this does a little though, since this time you get +2 Charisma instead of wisdom, and the Elemental Adept feat to bump up your cold damage- now your cold spells get at least a 2 on every damage die, and you ignore resistance to cold damage! water is a great insulator, so you really gotta give your spells some juice to punch through that. you still get Darkvision though, that’s not changing either.
speaking of not changing, as a Haunted One you have proficiency in Arcana and Survival. trauma is still trauma, even in the summer.
Ability Scores
this summer we’re going entirely on the offensive, so your Charisma has to be as high as possible. after that, your Dexterity- I’m not sure if you still do archery, but you can. plus you’re fighting in a bikini, so every little bit helps. third up, your Constitution. your bodily existence was already kind of weird, but now you’re an avenger, so your spirit origin is constantly repairing itself on top of being ash in the first place. makes it hard to stamp out your flames, y’know? after that, your Wisdom- it’s not great, but you’re generally good at spotting stuff, even if your insight’s crap. that means our Strength neutral, and we’re dumping Intelligence. it’s the traditional summer writing treatment, please understand.
Class Levels
1. Sorcerer 1: starting off as a sorcerer gives you proficiency in Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Persuasion and Religion (that last one against your will). for the summer, not only are you half demon and half god, thanks to your Draconic Bloodline you’re also half dragon! you’re more chuuni than Jalter!
we’re picking either a white or silver dragon for your Draconic Ancestor. the color doesn’t quite matter, but either way it matches your hair! this also teaches you draconic (it’s a language), and your dragon-based charisma checks have doubled proficiency.
the more important feature this level is your Draconic Resilience- you get an extra 1 hp per sorcerer level, and while you’re not wearing armor your AC gets a +3 bonus. it’s free mage armor! it doesn’t quite make you a knight class, but you’re definitely better off than assassin you.
speaking of, we still have to talk spells! you cast them with charisma as you’d probably expect from the stat layout. we’ve still got some of your old tricks- Friends and Charm Person, but for summer we’re also grabbing Frostbite and Shape Water for some water Authority, as well as Message to chat with master via parrot, and Disguise Self for your constant outfit swaps at the end of the event.
2. sorcerer 2: at level two you become a font of magic! that means you get sorcery points every day equal to your sorcerer level. right now you can spend points to make new spell slots, and spend slots to make more points. it gets better later on, don’t worry.
you can also shoot birds at people thanks to maaagic missile. it makes missiles, but magic! they instantly hit any target, and though they don’t do a lotta damage, it’s guaranteed damage, which feels very avengery.
3. Sorcerer 3: at third level you can make jokes about how crap the writing in your universe is thanks to Metamagic! it also lets you alter spells you cast by spending sorcery points but w/e. Heightened spells force disadvantage on one target’s save for three points, while seeking spells let you re-roll an attack for two. hey, we’re going all out on the offensive, remember?
speaking of magic though, you learn second level spells this level like Tasha’s Mind Whip, which not only deals psychic damage to your enemy but also stuns them with your beauty if they fail an intelligence save- they can only move, make an action, or make a bonus action the turn after you hit them.
4. Sorcerer 4: there’s not really any other sorcerer cantrips we need, so this level grab Create Bonfire, I guess. despite the water and floaty theming, you do still pack some heat. you can also Alter Self now to go from smol kama to tol kama.
also your first Ability Score Improvement should go towards evening out your Constitution for more health and Charisma for stronger spells.
5. Sorcerer 5: fifth level sorcerers can use Magical Guidance to be even better at everything by spending sorcery points to reroll skill checks. you should probably stick to using this on stuff you’re good at- two insight checks are still more than likely to end up as two failures.
you also get third level spells, and Freedom of the Waves might be third party but it’s also on D&D Beyond? so… whatever, it’s here. it takes one action to cast and makes a 15’ radius 10’ tall cylinder of violent seawater somewhere within 120’ feat of you. each creature in the area makes a strength save or takes 2d8 bludgeoning damage and falls prone. you can even choose a couple creatures in the area to automatically make their saves against the spell, if you’re feeling generous. also, if you’re in the spell’s area, you can teleport to another spot in its area as you cast it. if you’re made of ash it just makes sense you’d be hard to pin down.
6. Sorcerer 6: sixth level white or silver draconic sorcerers have an Elemental Affinity for cold damage, adding their charisma modifier to spells that deal it. plus, whenever you splash someone with a cold spell, you can spend a sorcery point to gain resistance to cold damage.
speaking of spells, we’re grabbing the Haste spell this level. it’s mostly for your floaty later, but being able to run twice as fast is never a bad thing. unless you get stuck somewhere bad when the spell ends and lose a turn recuperating. honestly that kind of feels like your usual luck, huh?
7. Warlock 1: okay, we’re all set on water stuff for now, let’s get ourselves that parrot. to do that, we need to strike up a deal with a Genie, specifically a Marid for that extra watery flavor. kind of like a lacroix.
you get an expanded spell list based on your genie’s type, but we’ll only bring that up when its relevant. the big draw here is the Genie’s Vessel, a random tiny object that acts as your spellcasting focus. while touching the vessel, you can enter your Bottled Respite for a few hours once per long rest. right now it can only fit you, but eventually you can trap- I mean let- master into it as well.
you can also unleash the Genie’s Wrath once a turn, adding some cold damage to any attack roll you make, so now any spell with an attack roll technically deals cold damage as well, so you can add your affinity bonus too! loopholes are fun!
oh, speaking of, we still need spells (which also use your charisma but have a different kind of spell slot that recharges on short rests). Eldritch Blast is another bunch of birds to throw at people, but this one requires an attack roll to hit. hey, we just got something that requires attack rolls to add a ton of damage to a spell, what are the odds?
Green-Flame Blade isn’t as helpful since you need to make the attack yourself, but it can hit two creatures with it. I guess just slap someone upside the head with a chakram if you want to deal fire and cold damage at the same time.
to continue this duality of a fiery god in water, pick up Armor of Agathys and Hellish Rebuke to double down on retaliatory attacks- the former automatically deals cold damage every time you lose its temporary hp, and the latter uses your reaction to blast fire in someone’s face if they hit you with a melee attack. even your defense is offense now!
8. Warlock 2: second level warlocks get two Eldritch Invocations to personalize their summer memories, and for once we’re using both of them right away! Mask of Many Faces lets you cast Disguise Self for free for an unlimited wardrobe, while Devil’s Sight lets your darkvision see through magical darkness so your target cannot escape you.
you can also Distort Value, doubling or halving the effective worth of an item for a short while. you’re the demon of desire, it makes sense you can make stuff more or less desirable.
9. Warlock 3: at third level you finally land on a deal with your Marid buddy, sealing you into the Pact of the Chain. with it, you now get access to the Find Familiar spell, allowing you to summon a parrot to carry your vessel around for you.
you can also cast second level spells like Invisibility to completely let go of your corporeal form for a short while. (obv you can still get hit while invisible, but it’ll be a lot harder.)
10. Sorcerer 7: okay, that’s enough birding up for now, let’s get cooler. you know what’s cooler than being cool? Ice Storm! it makes a stormcloud that hails on people and deals bludgeoning and cold damage, plus it turns the area it hits into difficult terrain for a round. all of those are already things water does, so it’s not hard to reflavor it.
11. Sorcerer 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity, both for the higher AC and to hopefully hit something with your green-flame blade more often. you can also make a Watery Sphere now that can trap enemies inside of it on a failed strength save. then you can swing the ball around like a big yoyo. there technically isn’t any drawback to being in the sphere aside from the usual drowning, but that’s kind of up to the DM. it’s fun though!
12. Sorcerer 9: ninth level sorcerers get fifth level spells, our main pick here is Animate Objects. for once, your inflatable crocodile can actually be an inflatable crocodile! Unfortunately this uses your concentration, so we can’t haste it to jetski speeds just yet.
13. Warlock 4: use this ASI to max out your Charisma for the strongest spells possible- spells like your new ones this level, Minor Illusion and Enthrall. you’re very lou-I mean distracting, so this spell will give creatures disadvantage on perception checks to notice anyone else for the duration.
14. Warlock 5: fifth level warlocks get third level spells, usually, but instead we’re going for another 2nd level one. Blur from the Marid spell list is just relaxing your ashy body instead of letting it go completely, giving creatures attacking you disadvantage to hit.
you also get another invocation, and the Gift of the Depths is great for the summer- you can now breathe underwater for free, and you get a swim speed to boot! on top of that, you can help out the party and cast water breathing once a day for free.
15. Warlock 6: sixth level genielocks get an upgrade to the draconic elemental buffs, an Elemental Gift if you will, that gives you permanent resistance to cold damage. on top of that, you can give yourself ten minutes of flight speed as a bonus action proficiency times a day. now we don’t have to worry about making you actually ride on a parrot!
you also get more waterpower thanks to a Spirit Shroud. this causes water to swirl around your feet, slowing down nearby enemies and adding cold damage to your short-ranged attacks. you could also make it radiant or necrotic, but that’s not on theme dangit.
16. Warlock 7: seventh level warlocks get fourth level spells, and since you’re buddy-buddy with a Marid you can Control Water to control water. you can make it flood, part the water, splash it around, or even make a whirlpool! it lasts up to ten minutes and you can pick a different option every turn.
you also get another invocation- Bewitching Whispers is pretty old-school Kama, letting you cast Compulsion once a day for free. if the target of your affections fails their wisdom save, you can use your bonus action each turn to tell it which way to move. this might be taking the whole “puppets on strings” metaphor a little too literally, but it’s fun!
17. Warlock 8: use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity once more time for more graceful swimming, and also to get away from your new pool floaty. with Summon Greater Demon, you can bring a CR 5 or lower demon into the material plane for up to an hour. you can command it for free, but it has a chance to break out if it makes a charisma save. that being said, your charisma is maxed out, so the chances of that happening is low. as a plus, they linger around for a few rounds if you’re not concentrating on them while still having to obey your commands, so you can pop that balloon animal for a bit of haste in a pinch!
18. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, like your last Marid goody, Cone of Cold. it’s a cone of damage, it’s cold. you also have an Eldritch Mind now, so you have advantage on concentration saves. that’s very useful, given how many of your spells can be the only thing between you and a fight breaking out.
19. Warlock 10: tenth level genies have a Sanctuary Vessel, so you can finally drag master back to your parrot with you! unfortunately you can’t leave them in there, but that’s just a good excuse for some alone time. speaking of, you can get a short rest by spending ten minutes in there, with an additional amount of HP added if they spend that rest healing up.
you also get one last cantrip, so… Mage Hand? it’s basically another bird, why not.
20. Warlock 11: our final level of warlock finally nets you a whole new spell level thanks to the Mystic Arcanum letting you cast Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise once a day. and for once, we have a build that works just as well in either direction! if you let your Kama side show, you become immune to radiant and necrotic damage, as well as the charmed condition, while Mara will make you immune to fire and poison damage and the poisoned condition. either way, you also get a flying speed, and boost to your ac. you can make more weapon attacks too- all your weapon attacks now use your charisma, and you can attack twice an action! so, boom! godtier mode for the final fight achieved!
Pros & Cons
Pros:
water-based casters are great at crowd control, and it’s super easy for you to lock down or push away enemies and make fights easier for the rest of your party.
turning invisible already makes you plenty sneaky, but you can also listen in on conversations by hiding in your own vessel and having your familiar fly you around places. a bird carrying a lantern around would be weird, but most people wouldn’t think it’s a spy camera.
your elemental bonuses from your feats and both classes stack up very nicely, adding 11 points of irresistible damage to your magical attacks each turn, plus it works best on Eldritch Blast, which gives you multiple chances to hit with a maxed-out spellcasting modifier. you’ve got a ton of flashier options, but if you ever get tired of those, you’ve got a really solid plan to fall back on. (also secret fourth pro: you should never run out of flashy stuff to do bc you’re a sorcerer/warlock. turn your warlock slots into sorcery points, then turn the points into sorcerer slots. take a short rest to recharge, and you’ve got free spell slots!)
Cons:
those elemental bonuses I just talked about work together only on spells with attack rolls, which you have exactly one of. everything else is either an aoe spell, some kind of support spell, or one that relies on you making attack rolls. the combo’s nice, but you’re probably only going to see it when pushed to your limit anyway.
we really had to stretch to make that fast floaty happen, and I don’t think I need to tell most of you that playing with demons is a bad idea. or maybe I do, you’re reading a kama build after all. still, even with your maxed out charisma they always have a chance to turn on you, plus just trying to summon one requires you to kill a person beforehand, which comes with its own risks.
quite a few of your abilities are just plain redundant. Mask of Many faces is Disguise Self but over and over, blur and invisibility serve about the same purpose, half of your Elemental Gift is something we could already do with your Elemental Affinity, and so on. it’s not terrible, and it definitely gives the build a more cohesive feeling of getting better at a few particular things, but it’ll suck if you get stuck in a campaign with a bunch of cold-immune monsters.
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saint-lukas-lives · 9 months
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Bedside Manner
A work for #EdelgardRarepair week on Twitter. The theme was “Regrets.”
Edelgard and Ingrid have a heart to heart after a particularly brutal battle.
TW: major character death, blood, implied gender dysphoria
Tags: CF Edelgard/Ingrid
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“Get up.”
The man’s voice was hoarse, like he’d been shouting for hours.
“Wake up, Galatea!” he cried.
Ingrid’s eyes snapped open. She’d never heard Hubert so distressed. He was kneeling over her, a tome floating above his hand, and his normally narrowed eyes wide with fear.
She coughed, and felt a small glob of blood burst from her mouth. Hubert didn’t recoil, but merely flicked a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped her face. His hands were sure, but gentle.
“Despite your own best efforts Galatea, I won’t allow you to die today,” he muttered.
Hubert’s voice was usually as sharp as the daggers he carried beneath his cloaks, but Ingrid had trouble hearing it through a fog that clouded her brain. It felt as if someone had shoved cotton rags in her ears. She tried to assess her surroundings but the world was swimming: Hubert’s dark form drifted in and out of focus, his glowing green eyes (eye really, one was always covered by his mop of black hair) were the only thing keeping him from blending entirely with the black of the night.
She could tell they were in a forest at least. A somber congregation of trees surrounded them, their branches covered in stark white snow. Now, she could feel its cold biting at her bare hands. She sluggishly lifted her head off the ground to check her arm for frostbite. What she saw instead chilled her to the bone faster than any ice could.
Beside her, a soldier was facedown on the ground. His body, still as a statue, was pierced by a shining silver streak of metal jutting straight out of his back. The sword caught the moonlight perfectly, reflecting its gleam and lighting up the snow with sparkles. Ingrid hardly noticed. Her gaze was locked onto the soldier’s open eyes, ones which were normally orange like autumn in the light, but now in the night they were an unblinking, muted brown. She’d know those eyes anywhere.
“Glenn?” she whispered.
“Do not look!” Hubert hissed.
He yanked her head away from the sight, abandoning the tenderness he had shown her mere seconds ago.
“Hubert…what…”
Her chest tightened, She breathed short and shallow breaths. In out in out in out. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. He’d been dead for almost a decade at this point.
Before Ingrid could muster the strength to protest Hubert lifted her off the ground and began carrying her on his back. Despite the fear now coursing through her blood, Ingrid could feel darkness creeping at the edge of her vision.
“Hubert I can’t…” she breathed.
Her vision was fading fast. Her body felt light enough to just float away.
“Hang on Galatea!”
Hubert’s pleas weren’t enough, Ingrid’s head dropped hard onto his bony shoulder, and everything went black.
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“All that talk of loyalty and chivalry, only to turn against your homeland.”
In the middle of a tall grass field, he stood like a solitary monolith, not even bothering to turn around and look at her. There was no sun, but Ingrid could see his long black hair tied up in a tight ponytail and his cerulean robes, thick enough to keep out the cold teeth of Faerghus’s winter.
His voice wasn’t angry, just stern, like he was chastising a child who’d lied about stealing sweets.
“You don’t understand!” Ingrid tried to shout, but no sound came out of her open mouth.
“You’re pathetic.”
His voice came from all sides, filling her head with its accusations.
“I’m not!” she cried to herself.
“You never loved your country, you never loved my brother.”
“I did!” she willed herself to cry.
“You’ve betrayed friends and family alike.”
“I know!” she tried to plead.
“…and after all that, you don’t even have the honor of being a knight.”
That was enough. She ran to him through the tall yellow grass as it rippled like waves in an invisible breeze. Her feet moved with incredible speed. She was as swift as her own pegasus and suddenly, he was right there in front of her, staring at her with his deep amber eyes.
They held each other’s gaze for a moment.
In a different life, Ingrid would have seen him after their five years away from Garreg Mach and made fun of him for being the same height as her. Instead, he just glared at her.
A small stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. It ran down his sharp chin and dripped onto his brilliant blue coat. Ingrid watched it plop, plop, plop onto his chest, the tiny red beads seeping into the thick fabric. Her eyes drifted down. There was a sword hilt in her hand, its blade buried in his body. A pool of crimson bloomed from his chest
“I hope,” he said, allowing more blood to spill over his thin lips, “it was worth it.”
“Felix!” Ingrid screamed, and this time, sound erupted from her throat.
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“Felix!”
Ingrid thrashed in her bed. Soft white blankets twisted around her arms and legs as she jerked around. She couldn’t breathe. Where was she?
“Ingrid what are you doing?!” cried a woman.
Ingrid felt a firm grip on her shoulder and stopped her struggling. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and laced her fingers over the hand of Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg.
“I—”
Ingrid’s throat constricted before she could get even one word out. She needed water immediately. Luckily, the emperor was already pushing a glass into her hands.
“Drink,” Edelgard ordered.
As Ingrid obeyed, depleting the large glass in one swift gulp, Edelgard stood with her arms crossed. Her brow was furrowed. There was something in her lilac eyes Ingrid had never seen before.
“I’m sorry, Lady Edelgard,” Ingrid coughed.
She wiped water from her face and tried to hide the fact that she’d spilled a not insignificant amount all over her white top. She placed the glass down on her bedside table. Her hands were still shaking slightly from the nightmare.
“I told you to drop the honorifics Galatea, you’re not in Faerghus anymore,” Edelgard snapped.
The Emperor turned away and paced past Ingrid’s small bed. They were in the Adrestrian army’s makeshift infirmary. The walls of a large canvas tent hung over rows of tawdry beds. They were covered by thick tan sheets Lady Manuela kept painstakingly clean which, combined with a couple vases of wildflowers placed beside a bed here and there, were the healer’s ways of trying to keep the place at least somewhat inviting.
Edelgard sighed. She was still in her armor, her red gauntlets stained an even deeper red with blood. Her crown, a pair of golden horns, curled out of double buns on the sides of her head. She pulled a rough wooden chair beside Ingrid and slowly slipped the crown from her head. Her white hair spilled down her chest, a waterfall of pure moonlight. Edelgard pressed a hand to her forehead and massaged her temple.
“Ingrid what am I going to do with you,” she muttered to herself.
Ingrid couldn’t help but stare in awe.
She remembered seeing the Imperial princess for the first time at the Officers Academy, how all the students looked at her with admiration (even ones like Ferdinand, who tried their hardest not to). Edelgard was short in stature, but with her unusual hair and gleaming purple eyes, she attracted attention. However it was her voice, which was as powerful as it was self-assured, that kept it.
Ingrid had stared back then too. She’d been a nobody noble from Faerghus, the almost-wife of the recently deceased Glenn Fraldarius and proud inheritor of the most destitute house in all of Fódlan. But one day, early in the school year, the princess of Adrestria herself had walked across the Academy training grounds and pulled Ingrid away from her practice dummy by the hand.
“Hey I was working on a new technique!” Ingrid had cried out lamely.
“Come join the Black Eagles mission this month,” Edelgard had requested, ignoring Ingrid’s protest.
“Why would I do that?” Ingrid sneered as a response, as if anything would make her leave behind the Blue Lions.
“Because I like how you fight.”
So Ingrid left the Blue Lions.
Her flirtation with the Black Eagle house didn’t go unnoticed.
“It’s to help out the new Professor,” she’d assured Prince Dimitri.
“It’s to convince House Aegir to invest in Galatea’s pegasi,” she’d fibbed to Felix.
“It’s because I have a crush on Dorothea,” she admitted to Sylvain (which technically wasn’t a lie).
“Who doesn’t?” he’d snickered back.
Of course, none of that was the real reason Ingrid spent month after month charging into battle under the banner of a different region’s flag. There was something irresistible about the way Edelgard treated her class: how everyone was judged based on who they were, not how they were born.
Leaving behind her Crest, her name, her birthright was something inconceivable in Faerghus. But with Edelgard, it was something Ingrid got to live every day. Then Byleth, Edelgard’s cherished professor, issued a formal invitation for her to join the Black Eagles. At the time, it had been impossible to say no.
She never wanted to stop living in the world Edelgard imagined. So when the Emperor declared war on the Church of Seiros, and personally requested that Ingrid join her at her side, there was no question as to what Ingrid would do.
Edelgard had been young, ambitious, and even a little bit cocky back at the Academy. Now, there were lines etched onto her face, worries forever engraved into her pale skin that became all the more noticeable when she frowned, as she did now.
“Lady Edelg—Edelgard,” Ingrid corrected, “Are you upset with me?”
Edelgard lifted her head, boring her eyes into Ingrid’s in a dance of dark green and lilac. Ingrid still couldn’t tell what thoughts were turning behind them.
“Do you remember what happened in the battle?” she asked, point blank.
Ingrid was stung by Edelgard’s directness.
“You need to work on your bedside manner,” Ingrid grumbled.
“Answer me!” demanded Edelgard.
She stood from her chair and looked down at Ingrid. Her face was twisted with anger, as if she was the one who had the right to be upset.
Ingrid dropped all emotion from her face, and stared back at Edelgard. If the Emperor wanted a confrontation, then that’s what she’d get.
“I killed Felix,” Ingrid said.
Her voice betrayed nothing. She kept completely still. Ingrid’s confession poisoned the air between them, choking out any words that could have possibly broken the silence that stretched between them.
“No!” Edelgard shouted furiously, a sob raking her chest.
She collapsed back into the chair and slumped over, her head in her hands. Edelgard wasn’t crying, but her body was shaking with silent tremors. Ingrid stared in shock. She’d never seen the Emperor like this, not even when her dear professor disappeared five years ago. Ingrid crawled to the edge of the bed. As softly as she could, caressed Edelgard’s hands with her own.
“Edelgard,” she whispered, the sole name still unfamiliar on her tongue, “What can I do?”
Edelgard stopped trembling. She sniffed.
“What can you do?” she repeated. “You’ve already done everything.”
Ingrid ran her calloused thumbs over Edelgard’s bare knuckles.
“You’ve done everything that’s ever been asked of you,” Edelgard continued. “Yet you still wish to give more. Why?!”
Her voice boomed into an accusation. Ingrid flinched, jerking her hands away.
“You didn’t kill Felix!” Edelgard roared. “You saved me! You pushed me out of harm's way and plunged your sword through the chest of your dear friend. I made you do that!”
Ingrid finally put the pieces together.
“You did nothing of the sort,” she said.
She laced her hands around Edelgard’s head, twisting her fingers through her silken strands of hair, and pulled their lips together.
Edelgard resisted for only a second, then allowed herself to melt completely in Ingrid’s hands. Ingrid breathed her in, smelling the soot of fires from the battle, the metallicity of blood. She felt the woman caress her face, her touch too light and cautious. Ingrid pulled her closer until they laid together on the tiny bed and she could feel Edelgard’s scarlet cloak tangle around the both of them. Some called Edelgard the Flame Emperor, and Ingrid wanted all her warmth.
They stayed there for a short eternity, kissing forcefully, frantically, as if they might not be able to touch each other again. They let their chests rise and fall at the same time, as if two parts made whole at last. Finally, Edelgard gently pulled away. She sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for Ingrid’s hair, tucking a short yellow strand behind her ear. Ingrid cherished the small shocks of electricity that flashed in her stomach as the Emperor’s fingers grazed her skin.
Ingrid kissed the emperor’s palm.
“I believed you were angry at me,” Ingrid confessed quietly. “Now I know you were torturing yourself.”
Edelgard gazed at her, sadness again etched in her face.
“I need you to answer my question, and I need you to be completely honest,” Edelgard stated.
“I’m always honest with you,” Ingrid breathed.
“I know, and I implore you not to change now.”
For the first time, Ingrid sensed uncertainty in Edelgard’s voice. The Emperor took a deep breath.
“The professor asked you to join the Black Eagles nearly five years ago. From what they told me, you said yes without a moment’s hesitation,” Edelgard said, “But do you not loathe me, do you not regret joining my cause?”
Ingrid’s breath caught in her throat. As fair as the question was, it was one she’d been avoiding answering, even for herself. She‘d lost many friends in this war: some that she betrayed when she left Faerghus and others when they died beside her in battle. She grieved for them all. There were surely others too whose deaths she probably hadn’t heard of yet, whose names would come in a list or a letter, or who she’d try to reach only for a soldier to say “You didn’t hear yet?” before informing her that they perished in some battle in a region far away from Faerghus.
Despite this, Ingrid never dealt the final blow. Did she regret slicing silver straight through Felix’s heart? Did she regret nearly dying in Hubert’s arms because of it? Did she regret dragging Sylvain with her to Edelgard’s army, and subjecting him to the horrors of being on the winning side of a war against their homeland?
As a child, Ingrid had spent so many years ruminating on the past, hoping, praying even, for something in it to change. Dear Goddess, please make Glenn not dead. Dear Goddess, please bring back the crops. Dear Goddess, please make me a son not a daughter. None of her prayers had ever been answered, of course. There was no way to walk but forward, and she could never go back even if she tried. All she could hope was that where she was going was better than the place she’d left behind. In a world like this, what use was regret?
She wrapped her arms around her Emperor.
“I chose to walk this path with you five years ago,” Ingrid whispered. “I don’t know if I would be strong enough to make every choice twice, but I know each decision I’ve made has led me here, right now, with you. If only for that, I wouldn’t change anything.”
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Roses for the Ships in My AU Story
1) Red rose = Puss in Boots and Death
forbidden love but true understanding of life and death along learning how to live better and let go of those bad times and shared good memories with the person you truly care for
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2) Blue rose = Kitty Softpaws and Frostbite (oc)
regretting the actions that took place during the first met before gaining trust after you restore a person’s life-changing injury that cause to never trust and shows that it’s alright to not trust others but give a second chance
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3) White rose = Goldilocks and Prince Charming
everything can’t be just right all the time because everyone had a choice to rewrite the story until they find their path to success and knowing that life is just right for redemption and having a knight in shining armour
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4) Pink rose = Princess Rosalinda (oc) and Pied Piper
if you want to marry, you should have it for friendship and love as you knew that the law is wrong until you realise that your true love doesn’t have to be a prince but a man who played a music of life which made you happy than ever to find someone more than royal
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ftwkcomic · 1 year
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Acorn 1 comes in for a landing.
Hope you guys enjoy. c:
Portfolio: https://ftwkcomicbooks.myportfolio.com/the-adventures-of-sonic-the-hedgehog
Socials and comms info
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a-real-chicxulub-vibe · 10 months
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Heyo! This is a bit out of the blue, but I am missing Ciaran and the Knights of Gwyn these days, so since I know you are a fellow Ciaran stan, I wanted to ask if you had any favorite headcanons for her? :)
Oh man!! Lots! Thank you for asking, the Lord's Blade is a seriously compelling character and I'm always happy to talk about her. :>
Here's a few to do with her pre-Knighthood days.
🥀🥀🥀
🗡️ Ciaran remembers when the world was young. Orphaned and friendless at a young age, she spent her childhood among the ghettos of New Londo, built underground to help withstand the frequent dragon attacks.
🗡️ Ciaran is indeed a full-blooded Medial, or one born of Gwyn's race. Her parents likely died in the war, though as a girl she always secretly suspected they abandoned her. All the other adults of New Londo were shady, dangerous. Her parents must have fit right in.
🗡️ As a child, Ciaran developed a passion for theater. Ciaran would eventually weaponize this to become anyone she needed to be as the mission demanded. But as a child, it was innocent, and for a time she and the other children would perform shows in the evenings. Perhaps she had always wanted to be someone else.
🗡️ Ciaran loves flowers. As a child in New Londo, sny artifacts from the surface were treasures. The glowing Darkroot Lilies became particular favorites, as they grew best in the dark.
🗡️ As a young woman, she too volunteered to fight in the Dragon War, and eventually became a Silver Knight. As a New Londo urchin, who was familiar with the humans and the shadows, she was already an outcast. She also became known for forgoing any shield on the battlefield, preferring dual swords.
🗡️ The snowy-white north was a deathtrap. The Dragons still ruled there in Ciaran's time, and the territory was of little value. Still, she and her company were assigned to go, and serve under an unproven captain.
🗡️ Those years in the north were the hardest she had ever known. Endless ice, blizzards, snowfalls higher than the top of one's head. People starved. People died. Ciaran was a recluse. She twisted orders. She broke off from formations. She was ungovernable. She was hopeless. She was going to die here. And for who?
🗡️ A great dragon ambushed the meager camp one day, and Ciaran predictably became separated. She was ready to accept her fate. But the captain leapt from the side, and misdirected the deadly strike. Shielding her with his body, he suffered horrific scars, before the dragon moved on. There, they were abandoned in the snow, left to die.
🗡️ Ciaran came to terms with the betrayal of her peers slowly. Not that she was shocked to have been forgotten, per se. She had already seen herself as unlikeable, unknowable. But the fact that one specifically of their number -- the strange young captain -- had almost died for her. And now they both lay injured and dying and alone in the snow. And with nothing else to do but wait, they talked.
🗡️ Ornstein, he said his name was. His family destroyed by the dragons, just like hers apparently was. But somehow the moron managed to twist his tragedy into a misguided sense of honor and duty. How sad. Didn't save his life, now did it?
🗡️ She heaved him onto her back that day, and they trudged through the snow. They rendezvoused with the rest of the contingent days later, where the poor captain was wheeled away by a gaggle of priests. Surely he wouldn't make it. It all was surely for naught. Everyone was going to die, one day. She couldn't understand why she had even bothered to help.
🗡️ She deserted. They could search all they want--Ciaran knew disappearing like no one else. Her next years were regrettable. She drank, she gambled. The terrible memories of the north stuck to her, like starvation to one's ribs, like frostbite to the toes. It was vital that she forgot. It was vital that she find out how to live again. It was vital she that she forget she never knew how to live at all.
🗡️ Years later, she received a plain-stamped letter. A letter of thanks. An invitation to a warm meal and a warm bed, courtesy of a nameless benefactor. How could she refuse? And indeed, how could said benefactor not find and repay the woman who long ago in the terrible North had saved his life?
sorry, I you said "favorite headcanons", but,,,
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goldenshornyjail · 9 months
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So, some things about this blog. I will be posting lwdes. I will find them. I will make them. And I will post them.
That being said!!!
I might not have access to the artist or any artwork I find, and I apologize for that. If anyone finds the original artists for any of what I post, please let me know so I can adjust.
Asks are open for the horny requests. It is my discretion on whether I complete them or not. I will also not be nice if you ask me to do something I will not do! If you want nice, please go to my main blog. Here, I will be an absolute bitch and will not apologize for it. If you know my main blog, you already know what I won't touch with a 50 foot pole.
What I absolutely will NOT do:
Feces/Scat/Golden Showers (blood is fine, excrement is not)
Pollination (incest in general is a no)
Enabler (please see above)
Tauradonna (get the fuck off my blog)
Dark Rising (Get)
Mechanical Bull (The)
Minotaur (Fuck)
Raging Bull (Off)
Red Bull (My)
Frostbite (Blog)
Do you see a pattern? Go find an Adam Taurus simp blog, you sociopaths.
Dragon Slayer
White Knight
Lancaster
Knightshade
Do ya see the pattern here? Go find a Jaun-Stand blog. There are plenty of them.
Black Sun (great brotp though)
Ilia x Any Male
Cheating
Thank you, Anons, who made me update this! I forgot that most individuals have an 8th grade reading and comprehension level, so spelling things out is a must.
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sailor-toni · 11 months
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Cost Chapter 3
You can also read this on Wattpad, AO3, and FF.net
“Repeat that but slower,” Danny said. 
“Dad is currently arm wrestling Fright Knight on the kitchen table, and Dad is winning,” Jazz said as slowly as she could. 
“W-H-Y?” 
“It’s Dad, do you really want to know why?”
“What is Mom doing?” 
“Egging Dad on,” 
“Mom… you’re supposed to be the smart one here,” Danny groaned.
“I can see why you left so fast,” Sam said.
“I don’t! That sounds awesome! Did you get any pics?” Tucker asked, sliding into the passenger seat. 
“No of course not!” 
“Aw, that would’ve been a perfect meme,” Tucker yelled. Jazz rolled her eyes and kicked the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, or F.F.G.A.V into gear. Tucker flew backwards into one of the cushions as it took off through the Ghost Zone. 
The Far Frozen was a barren wasteland floating on a glacier through the endless green void of the afterlife. A dense and harsh blizzard obscured its true size from any passersby, and only those with an ice core themselves could penetrate the surface. If one without an ice core managed to come through the barrier, they would find nothing but ice and snow awaiting them. Each secret and warm water spring had been hidden under a mountain of ice and snow. The folks of the Far Frozen knew the way of course; they traveled through undergrowth tunnels to reach warm skin soothing hot springs and underground forest full of strange glowing creatures. The rabbits tasted the best, at least according to Danny they tasted the best. 
      As the F.F.G.A.V approached the blizzard barrier, the wind shook its sides, creating an unpleasant vibrating noise throughout the hull. Layers of ice began to build on the F.F.G.A.V’s windows. The frost created small intertwining patterns on the round porthole windows. 
“They should really make it easier to get in here. Like you should be able to clap your hands and have the blizzard open like the red sea,” Tucker said. 
“I wish. Frostbite says it's not them who created the blizzard, but some old fart from the old ages. And he’s not around anymore, so no one knows how to turn it off,” Danny said.
    As they moved further in, the F.F.G.A.V’s display began to turn bright red with warnings and caution signs. Jazz gave the trio a worried look.
“It’s okay this happens every time,” Tucker brushed her off. 
    They emerged from the storm into a bright blue sky and sea of white. The ghostly tundra stretched out before them, the snow void of any disturbance on its smooth surface. There were tall peaks in the distance, and as they got closer they could see that these peaks were built by hand and not grown naturally. The towering structure was full of deep windows and intractable carvings. At the peak’s base was a small village surrounded by pillars of ice. The cloth tents were decorated in bright blue and orange paint. 
Jazz landed the F.F.G.A.V on the outer edge. Several of their villagers took note and began to run towards them. Their arms up, waving at the teens inside. 
“Are they friendly?” Jazz asked.
“Yes, overly so,” Danny said. “Here take this, it’s like negative 15 out there.” 
“Thanks,” Jazz threw on the oversized orange parka. “Is this Dad’s?”
“I think so. It’s all that we have left,” Sam said. Her and Tucker had stashed some clothes in the vehicle as they both wore winter gear in their own secondary colors. Jazz groaned and put on her father’s gear. Everything was too big and in a bright neon orange. 
Outside was an ass blazing cold, Tucker wrapped his scarf over his face to protect it from the cold, but you could still see bits of his skin changing color from the wind. Jazz sank into the snow, her boots instantly filled with the ice. Danny on the other hand was fine. He wore not extra clothing and walked on top of the snow just like the other snow yetis who wore nothing but capes, loincloths and beads. You could hear them before you saw them. And the clanking of beads crashed upon Danny, as a dozen small yetis launched themselves upon him. Their voices and barks overlapped each other into a jumbled mess of noise. 
“Great One! I am so sorry. Snowball get off him! Icelicker stop drooling on the Great One! Cold-Winter stop licking the Great One!” A female yeti who towered over the group ran up to them, her fur was braided and frozen to her ice horns like silver rope. She wore a deep blue cloak and around her belt was a bag of scrolls. 
“It’s okay! They are just excited,” Danny laughed. He wrestled with the yeti pups, tossing a few in the air and catching them like stuffed animals. The Yeti Pups laughed and yapped along. Jazz pulled out her phone to take a photo. 
“That’s so cute,” She whispered. 
“Thank you Great one for humoring these Pups but we need to go back to our lesson,” The female yeti sternly said. 
“Oh! I’m sorry. Hey guys you have to go back to class,” Danny began to pull them off his legs. 
The Pup named Snowball groaned. His white fluffy fur obscured his face and small ice horn nubs. “We don’t wanna go back!” The other Pups joined in. 
“All we are doing is listening to stories! It’s so boring! Can you and your friends play with us?” A second drooling pup whined. The Pups turned to the group with large puppy dog eyes (Snowball pulled his fur back to show off his large baby blue eyes) and they began to whine in unison. 
“I’m sorry but we have to go see Frostbite,” Jazz said. 
“Yeah and you should go to class,” Tucker said. 
The teacher gave the group a small smile before she dragged the small Snow Yeti’s pups back to their classroom. The pups groaned and moaned as they went. 
“They were so darn cute!” Jazz squealed. 
“I know, it warms my goth heart,” Sam said. 
“Maybe I can convince Dad to get us a dog,” Jazz said. 
“You know Dad will dress the poor mutt up in Fenton work clothes and gear, and then parade it around,” Danny replied. 
“You’re right,” with that the four teenagers made their way inside the mountain. 
The inner cave system of the Snow Yeti’s mountain was not a random series of tunnels but an elaborate circular grid dug into the ice itself. With each level having its own purpose. The bottom levels had a massive waterfall and smaller saunas scattered about, the upper levels were storefronts and workshops. Above those were the Yeti’s homes; each house was carved into the ice like hobbit holes. Their round doors were covered by rich tapestries that displayed the family’s history in bright colors. 
Cauldrons of glowing gems lit up the icy tunnels without melting the ice. In the center of each floor was a fountain or well. It was a wonder of architecture and culture. Everything from door frames, to the supporting arches had carvings from their long history. Long battles waged along the rim of the fountains, and discoveries were carved into the walls of the trader’s stalls. The story moved forward as they made their way through the mountain.  
Near the peak was a carving of Danny's victory over Pariah Dark, his ecto-suit was carved like a set of glowing armor. Danny scoffed at the effigy of himself. He wished he stood gloriously over the former king, with a smirk wide across his face, instead of blood rushing down his head as he forced the door of the sarcophagus closed. The ecto suit strained his body to the limits and Pariah pushed them further. He didn’t feel like a hero when he closed that damn thing, nor did he one afterwards. The cheers of humans and ghosts alike boomed through the streets like a marching parade, while Fenton laid in his bed rocking back and forth. Jazz only knew so much, the rest was up to his body to fix everything that was broken. His sister sat at his bed all night with pain pills and kind words.
“Danny?” Tucker nudged him. 
“Yeah?” Danny said. Tucker gave him a look. “What?” 
“I don’t think they got your face right,” He pointed to the carving.
“You think so?”
“Yeah. They didn’t get your good side.”
“Oh, thanks Tuck,”
“You’re welcome. Now let's catch up to the girls,” 
Danny let his gaze cross over the craving one last time before he ran up the icy steps. 
---
Near the peak, the home of the chief was nestled in the rocks and ice of the mountain. It was large enough to hide the entire village inside, with small windows, and statues of the chiefs of old standing around its sides. Each statue held its arms up, lifting a glowing ball of icey blue to the ceiling. The light combined into one large carving of a seal. The light pulsing through the cracks and edges. 
“Do you guys know what that does?” Jazz asked.
“I think it’s the thing that keeps the storm going,” Danny said. 
“You would be right, Great One!” Another Snow Yeti called out to them. He was gigantic compared to them, with giant horns made from ice, and a skeletal arm encased in a thick coat of ice. His under bite let his sharp carnivore teeth stick up above his upper lip, glistening in the frozen light. All of this was undone by his soft voice. “Hello to your companions as well! It is always great to see you, though I do not believe I have met you,” he bowed to Jazz. “I am Frostbite Chief of the Snow Yetis.” 
“Hello sir,” Jazz bowed to him. “I am Jazz Fenton, older sister of Danny, or the Great one?” He looked to her brother for help. 
“Lady Fenton, of course. The Great One has told us a lot about you,” 
“He has? If I may, can you tell me what he told you about me?’ 
“You know it’s great that you two get to meet, but we actually came here to ask you about a ghostly artifact,” Danny cut in. 
“Well I can take a look, but I am only an expert in items within the Far Frozen domain. So, you’ll have to forgive me if I am unable to give you the answers you seek,” 
“Well, um, I think this will be an exception. Tuck?” Danny motioned to Tucker, who pulled the black glassy ball from his coat pocket. 
“Danny broke it but after it showed us the vision we found whole again,” Tucker gave the ball to Frostbite.
 The chief expression darkened. “Where did you find this?” 
“In the back of Ghostwriter’s library, why what-” Danny was cut off with a curt, 
“Quickly get inside,” Frostbite tucked it into his robe. “I imagine you have many questions.” 
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sha-bae · 1 year
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The Knights Pet
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Chapter Thirteen
The girl spent the rest of the day showing her knights the things that Master Kylo had so graciously gifted her. She felt special, like she was on cloud 9. She had been hesitant when the men first brought her to the base. At the pet club her old master had told her that she was being sold as a slave, to be used in any way that her purchaser saw fit, whether she liked it or not. She hadn't understood what that mean at the time but now that she knew basic she was piecing it all together.
She had expected to be chained and used only for satisfaction, similar to how she spent her time at the pet club, being used and abused by men who payed her master handsomely for time with her. But here, here was much different then that. She had no chains, she was only touched when she wished to be, she was free to go wherever she pleased and do whatever she wanted, though she still preferred to follow Master Vicrul around wherever  he went.
She had no obligations besides her lessons and training sessions. It confused her and no matter how nice her masters where to her she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, to upset one of them, for them to decide she didn't deserve such freedoms and lock her up once again.
"Come on, pet. The snow let up so where having training outside today." Master Ap'lek spoke, taking hold of the girls hand, pulling her along at his side as he made his way out of the common area and towards there destination. She scrunched her face in confusion. Outside, she hadn't ever been outside on the base before, Vicrul had warned her about going out there, something about frostbite and wild animals.
"I'm allowed outside?" The girl questioned, mostly to make sure she had explicit permission as to not upset her other masters. "You're allowed to go where ever you please. You're not a prisoner here, pet." The man chuckled, as if it was obvious, she only nodded in reply. Ap'lek lead her to a door she had never noticed before, a door that lead directly to the outside. The girls hands sweated in anticipation to see what was out there, was that white stuff, that snow as master Ap'lek called it, soft like she imagined?
She watched the door slide open, a small gust of wind making its way in as it did so. Without a second though her master walked through, his boots crunching against the snow as he walked. Slowly, she followed, shaking with nervousness. It was cold, not to cold to bare but cold enough to to make the girl see her breath when she exhaled. She bent down, shoving her hand down against the snow, expecting something completely different then she received.
It was freezing, and not soft like she thought. It melted quickly in her hand leaving nothing but a small puddle in its wake. She felt a hard pat on her back as Ushar walked past her, coming out the same door she had to join them followed by the rest of the knights. She turned to Vicrul as he past, scooping up another handful of snow and presenting it to him. "What is this stuff?" She questioned him, know he would gladly answer any question she asked.
He chuckled at her naiveness, pointing up at the sky. "The water in the clouds freezes, and then it falls to the ground looking like this." He replied, explaining the science of the process as simply as he could to not confuse his sweet little pet. She nodded, tossing down the handful of ice. She suddenly felt something his her side quite hard, the force of it making her jump. As she looked down she noticed it was snow that had been thrown.
"And you can do that with it." Cardo laughed, seeming oh so amused by his little prank. Vicrul bent and gathered some in his large hands, making a snowball for the girl to toss back at his fellow knight. "Like this pet, and then you throw it." He showed her. Giggling to herself she took it from his hand, hurdling it with all her strength back, the ball hitting Cardo directly in the chest before breaking apart and falling to the ground. He coughed a bit, she had managed to knock the air from his lungs. "Oh your dead." He warned, bending to collect more. 
Before they knew it they were all throwing snowballs, the ice sticking to them and wetting there clothing, but they didn't seem to care much, just happy to see there pet so enthused. "Hhmm" the sound of Ren clearing his throat from the bases doorway startled the girl, making her immediately drop the ice in her hands, her clothing soaking wet at this point, her body racking with shivers as she suddenly realized how cold she was.
"I see you were all having quite the time." He spoke, gesturing towards the group. The girl quickly nodded, hurrying her way over to him. "Yes master, look, it's fun!" She giggled, making a small snowball and placing it in his hand. He couldn't help but chuckle, her excitement over something so small amusing him greatly. "I see. That's very nice, little one, but we have training to do, yes?" He questioned her, tilting his chin up as he awaited her answer.
"Yes, master Ren." She nodded obediently, doing her best to dust off as much of the snow as she could. The knights did the same, knowing ren wasn't much of a snowball throwing type of guy, much to serious to engage in such childish foolery. They gathered, standing around one another as they awaited Kylos command.
"Now, who wishes to begin?"
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knight-tale · 8 months
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Part 5
I nod in gratitude and open the doors.
Upon stepping through, I’m startled by the sudden cold.
The doors slam shut, and I get thrown forward into the snow.
I see a sign. It says, “The Skeleton Brothers o' the jolly Puerto Nevado do bid ye welcome to the giant, frostbitten expanse o' Snowdin.”
“Most wondrous,” I mutter under my breath, “Snowdin is a frostbitten wasteland! I shouldst not beest surprised, though, seeing how the name gives t hence. Not only yond, but these Skeleton Broth'rs art pirates, if 't be true this sign is aught to wend by.”
I stand up and begin trudging forward, avoiding frostbite by summoning a few fire minions and having them walk in a tight formation around me.
After trudging forward for only half a minute, I hear a voice behind me.
“do ye not know 'ow to greet a new matey? yarr, ye should turn around, bonnie lass, an' shake me 'and.”
I whirl around and hold up my sword.
“oh, a feisty lass this here one be, eh? don't worry, knight, I ain't a violent gentleman o' fortune. the name be sans, sans the skeleton. or, as me brother likes to call me, the laziest o' bones in all o' snowdin.”
I lower my sword and glare at Sans. I can see how he looks like a pirate, I mean he’s got the shirt and the pants and the boots. He’s wearing a white tunic, blue-gray overcoat, black breeches, and brown boots. I notice his twin cutlasses on his sides.
“If 't be true thou art not termagant, then wherefore doth thee has't those cutlasses?”
“oh, these be just fer self-defense an' duelin'.”
"I seeth. Well, if 't be true thee couldst leadeth me to the nearest town, yond'd beest most wondrous."
"oh, i can't do that there. now, me brother, papyrus, would be the one to ask," he says. He turns around, points at a not-so-distant watchtower, and says, "when 'e ain't on our flagship or doin' a job fer undyne, ye can find 'im in that there watchtower, lookin' fer someone in need o' 'elpin'."
“Thy broth'r sounds liketh an... int'resting... pirate if 't be true that gent wanteth a chance to holp people. And what about thee? Art thee as gentle as thy broth'r?”
“aye, i do 'appen to be as friendly as me brother. come an' follow me. I'll take ye to papyrus. 'e'll be able to 'elp ye get to the nearest town.”
Sans leads me to the base of the watchtower. We get there right as another skeleton pirate comes down. My first instinct is to hide, and I’m too cold to fight the urge, so I hide behind a snow mound. Sans sees this and shrugs.
“AHOY, SANS! WHAT BE YE DOIN' 'ERE? I THOUGHT YE WAS SCOUTIN' THE AREA FER ANY HUMANS.”
“ye know humans turn into monsters upon fallin' into mt. ebott. it be almost impossible to tell humans from monsters.”
“WAIT A MOMENT. I CAN FEEL HUMAN MAGIC NEARBY. WHERE BE YE, HUMAN? SHOW YERSELF!”
Oh nay. I've been discov'r'd. I shouldst cometh out from behind this snow pile. ... Wherefore can I not moveth?
I realize with fear that my body must’ve mostly frozen over. I try to summon fire to thaw myself, but I’m too cold to even do that.
“uh, well, if there been a human, then they'd be frozen behind that there snow pile.”
“REALLY? WELL, IN THAT THERE CASE, I'D BETTER TAKE THEM INTO THE WATCHTOWER TO THAW THEM OUT.”
Papyrus walks around the snow pile that I’m behind, and I see him approach as darkness encircles me.
My internal temperature is too low to stay conscious.
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sour-heart-treats · 7 months
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i dunno if youre still doing this or if youre still active but uh,knight cookie angst hcs? my personal hc has evolved so tea knight his still his uncle,but knight cookie himself was raised as an orphan has zero clue of their relations.
I've done Knight HCs before but I don't mind doing more specifically for angst since it's been a hot minute since I've done HCs of any kind.
- Technically speaking, Knight and his sibling White Choco were orphaned and raised in Princess' house- though that's a repeat from another post.
- Knight hates being in lighter clothes or being exposed in any capacity. It's the dysphoria... though he's afraid of getting any treatments done (other than the CR equivalent of Testosterone).
- There's this intense insecurity of not being good enough or not being able to do what the other knights he knows of can. He's the most basic knight there is- and that fact lives in his mind far too much.
- His job leaves him anxious and always exhausted. Running around to keep up with Princess makes his asthma act up. He wishes Princess would calm down, even if he loves (/p) her for her rambunctious nature.
- Knight is anxious about having "softer" interests. Crochet, baking, other caretaking type ones. He wants to care for those around him, like how the kingdom and those in it have cared for him, but... he doesn't want to be seen as weak!!
- Knight is weak to the cold, and if wearing his Icewing Cavalier costume too long, he will get frostbite (and he has- on multiple occasions).
- Knight and Dark Choco used to have a somewhat adoptive sibling relationship, and Dark was one of the inspirations for Knight to take his job as seriously as he does. Too bad his heart is heavy for what happened to Dark thanks to that sword...
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