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radiance1 · 10 months

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The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.

The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.

Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.

So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?

He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.

The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.

It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?

...

Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?

He'll give them some points for dedication, though.

Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.

The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.

----

Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.

For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).

It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.

Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!

He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.

And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.

Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.

It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.

At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.

So he answers and is gone with a pop.

Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.

Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.

Fuck.

Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.

So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.

The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.

Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.

The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.

Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #pariah dark #john constantine #The Ghost King and Prince are known to not answer summons #both for different reasons #But Danny instantly answers one because he heard an Ice cream truck in the background #Pariah followed because he at first wanted to get Danny back to Crown Prince lessons #Only to be swayed by his puppies eyes and the absolute delicacy that is Ice cream #Pariah Dark is stuck in the medieval times in terms of money #He would literally pull out gold coins and pay for shit that way #He is rich rich #Like basically a neigh infinite supply of gold coins he keeps in his hair #Don't ask him how just ghost logic #They then spent the day going around to Ice cream shops and taste testing them #Poor Fright Knight is left alone wondering what he should do #Word spreads in the magical community about this and everyone tries it out #It does work #But if there isn't actually Ice cream you'll have an angry Ghost Prince to deal with #And an angry Ghost Prince leads to a less than cordial Ghost King

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otaku553 · 5 months

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He’s perfectly sane I swear

My submission for @where-does-the-heart-lie‘s DTIYS! Congrats on one year on tumblr!! Your art is always an absolute delight to see :D I hope this does it justice!

#one piece #sabo #whery dtiys #this finally pulled me out of my rendering block…. amazing #it’s been quite a while since I’ve last done a dark background rendered piece #I did end up accidentally changing the pose just a bit….. mostly just raise the elbow #rendering fire is such an experience. man.#do it for the wüsthof 17 slot walnut wood knife block………#the longer I look at it the less I like it so I need to post it Now #I am Nervous and Anxious and bad at replying but ASKSJFJFJSJ THANKS FOR THE SXF ACE ART ITS AMAZING #I am Going to draw that sometime soon it is So Cool

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mugwot · 3 months

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someone

#act 5 my beloved my beloathed #at this point in the game i think my brain was a bit fried cos i legit forgot how stories happen and was like yep this is how i die #made it so i straight up exploded afterwards lol just inconsolable #mal du pays #is me when i fucking gets you #cracking open a boy with the cold ones #oh to have your head grabbed in a vice grip by your inner demons <3 #isat spoilers #like kinda big ones #isat siffrin #isat mal du pays #in stars and time #some pose practice kinda got away from me #turns out if you change up how you sketch it can make you a bit looser with it which was nice c:#in this case i sketched with light colour on a dark background #my art

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hellspawnmotel · 7 months

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remember when I did this?

well I did more

#deltarune #heathers #noelle holiday #kris dreemurr #pizzapants #susie deltarune #nooses tw #blood tw #suicide tw #hanging tw #death tw #art tag #first three were actually done a year ago but i never finished the fourth one until now #partially bc Background Hard but also i was like 'this might be too dark actually'#my friends were like its heathers of course its dark and then i showed them the sketch and they were like oh that IS dark #whatever its done i did it #ALSO this is important some people were confused with this last time: these are based on the MOVIE not the musical #like literally these are screenshot redraws from the movie but with dr characters lol #important bc since the musical makes betty and martha a composite character and in the movie theyre two different girls #and i wouldnt have put susie in the role of martha in the context of the musical. i probably would choose catti for that #and im also. not that fond of the musical. on the whole. for reasons #i do have like five of the songs from it on my showtunes playlist though LMAO #i may not agree with the story and characterization choices but i cant deny bangers #crossover

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manchesterau · 4 days

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#*#no one is online idgaf #it's like 10 am idc SHES SO CUTE #ywgttn #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #phan #dan and phil #dpgdaily #also the background when it's not like....dark out is saurrr cuteeee #.gifs #my edit #mine #dannie

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lycorim · 8 months

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uuuuuehhhghh fish time

#catelyn stark #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #my art #fan art #oh Big Circle In The Background you're my best friend #this was supposed to just be practice with a new brush but ohhhh well #no one can see the fishy little details I drew on her dress :/#why do I always pick dark color palettes when I spend time on details. skill issue on my part

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sheerakk · 1 year

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Garth, thank you for existing

@assigned-k9 thank you for creating her!!

#sheerak #this fan made palisman gave me more serotonin than the entire For The Future #i don't have patience for backgrounds #the last one was kinda fun tho #Hunter was vibing in dark classrooms and then Luz came saying that she's joining his emo club because she and Garth need a rest #after all the fun they had together #Hunter was not pleased #Garth is canon for me #since Flapjack left the stage it's her time to shine #Garth was eventually returned to Matt #But Luz insisted on Matt joining their party just to have Garth with them #at the same time if Matt died during their let's save the world but actually only eda and king mission Luz would adopt Garth #the world is a cruel place #look at me go totally making a mess from these text bubbles breaking all the rules of proper text bubbles #but the fact is that I tottally did not plan it and made it as I go realising that it's not working but fuck that #the owl house #luz noceda #hunter toh #toh hunter #Gus Porter #mattholomule

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bluepallilworld · 2 months

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A Tear's Soul

Part 1: All is certainly well in this fine world

Mimosa barely had the time to register what was happening before he was warped elsewhere by his happy-go-lucky friend.

He was used to Lint’s instantaneous portals with how often he had been ambushed but the sensation never failed to be truly bizarre.

It felt like dipping your toes in lukewarm water then suddenly you were drenched and dry at the same time. And in a random place you did not ask to go.

The instant the shock runned out of his system, Mimosa whirled around and hit Lint’s head with the side of his hand.

“LINT, COME ON! Couldn’t this at least wait after breakfast? I’m hungry…”

Lint’s only reaction was to giggle so hard she toppled down on the wooden floor.

“Where would be the fun in that? If you really wanted that breakfast, you should have woken up earlier!”

“...You would just have come even earlier if I did that, wouldn’t you?”

She smiled and stood up, whistling and buzzing around.

The kid sighed and started looking around.

Where were they?

The floor was wooden and a little dusty, the walls were pretty bare except for some weird unrecognizable knick-knacks on shelves. The room was small.

“Whom closet did you zap us in?”

Lint tsked and wiggled her finger in front of his face.

“You’re really”, she pointed to a big dent in a wall, “not a good detective, uh?”

Mimosa stared hard at the dent. It looked a bit like a puppy’s face? It reminded him of when they played hide-and-seek with Mu’s at her second home and he just rammed his elbow so hard into a wall it damaged the wall. It didn't hurt but it left its mark on the house.

Wait.

He gasped at the realization.

“SINCE WHEN CAN YOU POP DIRECTLY INTO TODDH’S POCKET DIMENSION?!! I thought you couldn’t go farther than the entrance?”

He shook his friend hard in his barely contained excitation.

They were at Mu’s!!!

“Well, it took me a few tries. I’m not sure I’m welcome alone here anymore by the way?”

“Why did you teleport us here? I thought you’d wanted to go exploring or somethin?”

“...You told me you missed Mu and she wouldn’t come back for at least another week sooo.”

Mimosa hugged her. He did indeed miss his younger sister but he didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Eh, couldn’t have my best friend slash “half-brother-from-another-multiverse” mopping, now?”

He buried his head into her shoulder while she rubbed his back.

“We should get out of this closet and go look for your little princess, don’t you think?”

He nodded and pushed away the other to get to the door handle. He didn’t get that far as the girl shoved him away and opened the door first.

She runned out all while shouting:

“THE LAST ONE TO FIND HER IS WET NOODLE!”

And as he, for sure, didn’t want to be a wet noodle, the boy dashed at his turn and they raced through the long corridor, crashing into furniture and laughing their heads off.

Sadly, he tripped on one of his treacherous tentacles (a fairly common occurrence) and tumbled down quite fast with a yelp. His “friend” just snickered at his misfortune and disappeared behind a corner.

Aw, he didn’t want to be the wet noodle…

He plopped down against the floor, starfish-style, and examined his surroundings. He was still in a corridor. That house had too much of those.

He craned his skull around to examine the few doors he could see from this angle.

Among the very unremarkable doors, one stood out. It was white with flowers painted all over it. The skill of the painting varied a lot and those near the bottom were merely child scribbles.

The skeleton propped himself on his elbows and stared at the door, right-sided.

It was Mu’s room.

Maybe the pasta fate would not befall on him in the end?

The slats creaked despite his best attempts to be sneaky and he cracked the door open a smidge before peeking inside.

A small skeleton was sitting there, playing on the ground with a hoop. Quiet, she was making it roll harshly against the floor until it hit the wall and got launched back at her. She then caught it with the tentacle wrapped cozily around her throat and shoulders and began the process anew.

There she was.

He readied himself to call her when a weight on his head startled him.

“FOUND HER! I WON!”, shouted Lint from above.

How did she even do that, she was slightly smaller than him! That thought was one of the many that went through his mind as she leaped over leaning on his shoulders.

Back to the ground.

Mu looked at them for a second, nodded, then went back to her game, unbothered.

Lint danced, chanting “wet noodle, wet noodle”, looking rather pleased.

He weakly protested that he found her first to which he got the counter argument; he didn't announce it first so that was null and void.

Fair.

They spent some time together, each doing their very own stuff.

Lint was trying to improve her cartwheels (with various success) all while chittering about some story he half-listened to, she tried to coax them into leaving for an adventure a few times but didn’t insist for once so she kept doing clumsy cartwheels.

Mu continued her game, focused on it, Mimosa ignored the action's goal but she was fully entranced by it (despite glancing in his direction a few times, probably wondering about what he was doing).

He was cutting paper shapes with scissors and gluing those to pins he found in a box.

Once he was satisfied with the amount of paper shapes, he tapped gently on Mu’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and tilted her head before eyeing a notebook laying on the ground next to her.

“You don’t have to use your book if you don’t feel like it, I won’t ask complex questions.”

His mute sister nodded and gave him her whole attention.

He pointed at his work.

“Would you like it if I put some of these on your hat to keep company to your flower pin?”

Her eyelights grew two sizes before he even finished his sentence, she stuck her hands in the pockets on each extremity of the drooping bunny ears of her dark colored hat and excitedly moved up her arms, showing the paws design sewed on that side of the pockets.

“I’ll take that for a yes!”

Mu nodded so hard her hat would have flipped away if her hands weren’t still stuffed in.

He pointed to the paper shapes and asked her to point to the ones she’d like most.

She didn’t hesitate and picked anything vaguely flower shaped plus one that looked like a lemon (or an eye?). When he interrogated her on that choice, she just uncurled her tentacle, revealing the rest of her face and smiled.

“Ok, ok, sit there and don’t move.”

He started to stick the paper bits as carefully as he could and Lint joined him on the task soon after.

They did that for a moment, he had to stop Mu from wiggling too much a few times as she grew impatient and excited.

Once they were done and confident it would hold for long enough to be satisfying, they released the small monster and she all but ran to the mirror.

Watching her twirl around in joy released a special wave of warmth in his soul. Those moments reminded him how lucky he was to still have her, how lucky he was that Fancy and the one before him found her when she had been lost and how lucky they had been to be reunited during an unplanned playtrip.

He saw Lint watching him thoughtful in the corner of his eyes but he didn’t call her out on that.

However, when she turned her gaze back toward the mirror anew and her eyelights shrieked to almost pinpoints.

Uh?

He turned his head to discover an absence of any twirling sister and shot up.

“Where?”

Something poked his shoulder.

Lint was in front of him.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Lint was glaring at random corners.

Poc.

He looked to his left then more thoroughly to his right.

Then he was promptly yoinked from the ground by something above.

“AH-”

A hand stopped his shout and he looked at his aggressor’s face.

…Nip.

The dark-boned-mixed-rabbit-skeleton grinned at him and made a sign to keep quiet. He reluctantly nodded and fred his mouth.

Nipal was a strange fellow that liked far too much scaring others in his opinion, but it came with the fact he had been born from a bad dream he guessed.

Other than that, he was pretty okay.

And also holding him with a leg while crouched on all four on the ceiling.

Nip giggled silently and he watched Lint getting more and more agitated on the ground.

She was looking everywhere for them and despite glancing up a few times, Nip always moved just in time to hide from her sight.

The demon was talented in this stuff.

Nip moved towards a wall and put him on the top of a closet using only one floating hand. Mu was already waiting there and looked absolutely giddy at the event.

Nip went back to tormenting Lint and one of the puffy ends of his bunny ears almost smacked him when he turned.

Hm. Mimosa got himself comfy to admire the chaos.

He shrugged.

That might as well happen.

Nip played for another five minutes at pocking the distraught girl running around on the floor before leaping behind her, shifting his form to a huge furry rabbit monster and caught her from behind in a hug.

Lint screamed bloody murder and Mu drew a line in her notebook. He peeked at the page… 15 was scribbled next to a vaguely bunny shaped scribble and a bit fat zero next to three bows. It looked like she had been keeping score.

He giggled. Hopefully Lint won’t see that.

This one was now hitting and biting the smug adult -to be confirmed, Nip always lied when they asked his age.

After a bit of shifting and a whole lot of being picked up and scaling things for no reason, they all finally ended up all sitting in the center of the room.

Nipal Twees, once again in his more regular shape, clapped his hands together.

“That was amusing, how are you guys doing?”

He did not wait for their answer as he wiggled his left ear, distracting little Mu that was sitting on his lap.

“Now, kids, Toddh went out to get Fancy. Boy is taking a bit long to bring back groceries.”

Where was he going with that?

“...Kitchen’s free, who wanna bake? Badly of course!”

They answered their agreement, loudly.

What a good idea, he was famished.

And like that, they made a beeline for the kitchen and promptly started to try baking… something…

They didn’t have any recipe and Fancy’s cookbook was creepy so they boycotted that idea.

Each busied themselves with a task they thought would help making… something?

The result was barely palatable and the kitchen was very close to what someone would consider “ruined”.

He would not talk about the general state of their outfits. The aprons they put on had been near useless in keeping the mess at bay.

They made a game of trying to eat the biggest part without making faces. Nip was quickly banned from playing as he was unbothered by the taste and even claimed to enjoy it.

The sound of keys in a door made them all freeze.

Toddh was back.

annnnd that's the end of part one 🎶

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Shine, Malignance, Bow/Butterfly and Calligraphy (mentioned) belong to @creative-firebug <3

The rest is mine owu

Tagging as requested: @shinechermont

(if someone desires to be tagged in the other parts, tell me (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) )

👉👈tagging @zu-is-here because the whole idea of that project was born because of a discussion I had with her (no I'm not telling what it was about) (zuz tell me if you want me to tag you in the other parts or not :D)

bonus:

I thought it'd be fun to put a link to the first time I put Mimosa in a comic (almost 4 years ago), I have evolved a bit

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guesspls · 5 months

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It the AvA/AvM Gift Exchanged time!

And this time, I'm your Santa @reptilia0freptiles

We have the four hollowhead bonding with each other!

Second and Dark are playing battle ship! It's look like Second is winning, maybe luck is on his side, or there are someone help him cheat ?👀

Happy holiday everyone!

#ava gift exchange #ava gift exchange 2023 #alan becker #ava second coming #ava the dark lord #ava the chosen one #ava victim #don't ask the background #chosen are helping second #victim doesn't know what they doing

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pinksilvace · 9 months

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“It’s cold." “I know. I know, but we’re going to be alright. Do you hear me? You’re alright now. You’re going to be okay.” “I want to go home.” “We can’t go back home. We’re—we’re orphans now, remember? Nobody’s waiting for us back there.”

#this is technically art for my fic so it gets the tag:#silvacegreengardens #I love drawing backgrounds (lie)#my art #fernart #for once I'm feeling pretty proud of this one??? wild #guess that's what happens when I try for a full illustration every once in a while lol #rip to that plant specifically though. abstract shapes be upon ye #the owl house #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #wittebros #toh fanart #eventually I'm going to post a short green gardens companion fic that explains what Caleb's going through bc it's a Lot #oh rip to the blanket and left hand too. definitely did not try incorporating them as well as I could have. ah well #the focus for this was color and expression anyway #bummer that it's so dark but I couldn't figure out how to get the ambience otherwise and I refuse to shoot reference of myself #dripping wet and sitting in a dark place with vague overhead ambient lighting #you should've seen how Caleb's feet looked in the initial sketch. HUGE. boy came straight out of kingdom hearts

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flowercrowngods · 3 months

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knightmærs

love: saying "i love you" even when you're scared written for @steddielovemonth day 20 (@quinns-shadowy-arts)

M | ~3.1k | tags: medieval-ish au, prince!steve, lovers to enemies who are still lovers but it’s intrigue cw: torture (both implied and explicit), past & on-screen brainwashing, manipulation, angst, violence, open ending, mild gore, traditional fairytale imagery

princemær

It is not the sensation of cold steel touching his throat that makes him halt, the blade against his skin a feeling so familiar these days that he barely falters in his steps anymore. Nor is it the clearly spoken threat of, “One wrong move, Kas, and I will paint the soil with your blood so that something good may come of your existence after all.”

Original, that. Eddie is not loath to admit it.

And were this valiant knight anyone else, he surely would have worked his clever tongue to make it count, at the very least, that they should have caught him at last. Judging by the determination in the man’s hazel eyes and the absolute calm in his hand, sword unwavering against Eddie’s throat, he would have paid gravely for it.

As it is, though, Eddie can only stare into the eyes of his imminent captor, frozen to the spot and freezing yet more when he finds no trace of recognition in those eyes.

What did they do to you? he wonders desperately, so forlorn in the throes of distress he finds no wherewithal to struggle against four men of the Prince’s guard as they roughly disarm and bind him. He doesn’t take his eyes off the Prince, aching for just a hint of recognition, even a glint of betrayal and hatred – but all he can find is cold nothingness as the Prince holds his gaze, looking down at Eddie from his royal mare. It’s not one Eddie recognises, and he is reminded of the years he has gone without those eyes in his life.

“The King is expecting your return,” says the Prince, sheathing his sword when one of his men binds Eddie to the back of his horse; the first of many tortures, he is sure.

Or rather, the second, with the way the Prince is looking at him, speaking to him without that familiar melody to his voice. It is monotonous now, and Eddie wants to become the monster again that they all make him out to be, if only to rip out the throat of the person who did this to him. The person who took the Prince’s voice, his smile, his memories.

He would gladly become a monster for him all over again.

“A sword has been made for your head, after all. And a feast for your demise.”

And with that, the Prince spurs his mare into a trot, his loyal guardsmen following just behind him, pulling Eddie with them. It is a small miracle that he does not stumble and fall, the floor beneath his feet unsteady as cotton as all feeling leaves his body and the world rewrites itself around him and this very moment.

Prince Steven wants him publicly executed. That is not what leaves Eddie’s stomach with a wave of nausea he barely manages to swallow down, panting and gasping for air as he is from running after the horses.

No, what leaves him with a frozen bloodstream and a panicked paralysis of the mind is that Prince Steven recognises him no longer. Remembers not the history that lies between them. The sacrifices made.

Were the situation any different, allowing for tears and curses cried into the dark of night without threat of detection, Eddie would have wailed. Wept at the realisation that he should have never left Steve to the claws of the King and his advisor.

What did they do to you? he agonises, staring at the familiar blues that attire the Prince so tragically familiar. And how do I get you back before you spell doom for yourself with my own blood?

***

Foolishly, Eddie has spent years of his life thinking he would never be presented with this view again: The palace in all its glory, sandstone nary white and golden, shining and gleaming in ways more sublime than the sun herself. It stole many a night from him, the thought of this vision and the heart it holds inside, a keep more than a palace, and just as out of reach for the hands of a man deemed a traitor to the kingdom.

But now here he is, stumbling on bleeding feet as the horse drags him into the courtyard of what used to be his home so many winters ago he has lost count. People gave gathered in the streets and alleys and up by the windows, chancing a look at the man condemned, sweat and tears dried and crusted on his cheeks, ripped clothes showing bleeding wounds from falling when the Prince demanded they ride faster.

He can scarcely hold his own weight anymore, his feet aching and burning, his entire body on fire and dehydrated, the world around him spinning just quickly enough that he takes too long to realise it when the Prince cuts the rope from the horse’s saddle and takes a hold of it instead. Holding Eddie like a mutt on a leash – and he’s panting like one, too.

Still he catches his breath long enough to lift his chin and look at the Prince, showing defiance in one simple act that in another lifetime counted as devotion. But he wants to look at him. Wants to drink him in, changed though he might be.

“Will you lead me to death now, Your Majesty?”

The Prince says nothing as he rebinds Eddie’s wrists, securing them to his chest so he can’t easily break free and the Prince’s neck in the process. A wave of pride washes over him, even as he realises that he must succumb to being a prisoner for now with no means to escape.

“I am but your humble subject. Where you lead, I will follow,” Eddie says with a wavering voice, just barely resisting to bow before his Prince for dramatic effect and hoping that would conceal the truth to his words.

“One more word, snake,” he says, cold eyes boring into Eddie’s like a blade of ice and leaving trickles of fear in their wake, “and I will personally see to your death being so slow and painful, you will have forgotten your own name just before I am done, leaving you not enough time to remember. You will spend eternity wandering and finding no peace. Finding not even your name, as all you are has been replaced with pain.”

Eddie flinches away from him unwittingly, hating the cold smirk that infests that beautiful face. His Prince wouldn’t talk like that. His Prince would not resort to threats of torture, inflicting fear wherever he sets foot.

He had heard the stories, tales of a Prince changed, accounts of the Golden Prince dimmed and dulled, a tender heart hardened and smooth edges roughened to hurt whoever dared to touch him. The first few years he had heard the tales, and still he had chosen disbelief and doubt. Refusal to believe it.

His Prince would never. Stevie could never.

And yet.

“What happened to you?” he whispers, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them, and he watches as something shutters behind those familiar eyes.

“You cut out my heart. All those years ago, when you killed him. I intend to do the same to you.”

Eddie swallows, the words not making sense. He has killed many a man, those who deserved it and those who did not, but whom could he have killed to elicit such a response from the Prince?

“Whom?” he dares ask, preparing for a blade in his stomach or a fist in his face, ready for the guards to pull him back and pummel him until he does indeed forget his name and the rest of the world for a while.

But the Prince stands his ground, his cold gaze nary lifeless even as Eddie’s vision swims.

“Eddie.”

And all the blood flees his body in a rush as understanding dawns on him, leaving yet more confusion as he hears his own name fall from the Prince’s lips with such barely concealed grief and sadness that it makes his knees buckle.

“I intend to repay you for what you have taken from me. Settle the blood debt. Three days from now, it shall be my hand on the sword that will have your head.”

Eddie is too stunned to speak, too exhausted from two days on his feet, dragged on his feet and on his back, and the unfamiliar sensation of fear grips his whole body and intensifies the aches and pains he feels until his legs give out and he lands on his knees in front of his Prince, close to weeping once more.

A hand comes to rest on his chin, tipping up his face so he can meet those royal eyes, and Eddie finds himself wishing for the blade instead.

“Good,” Prince Steven says, his voice quiet, only for Eddie to hear. “I want to hear you beg for your life.”

Eddie cannot keep a hold of the tear that breaks free and rolls down his face, leaving a trace for the Prince to follow as he undoubtedly marvels at having the great Betrayer on his knees and at a loss for words.

And Eddie knows he will beg. But not for his life.

***

Torture does come, but not from his Prince.

Instead it is Henry, the King’s advisor, who takes great pleasure in taunting him, leaving his body bloodied and bruised before he applies whatever concoction he cooked up that will leave Eddie feeling like his insides have turned to flames, leaving him to grunt and bite down on his screams as Henry weaves tales out of thin air laced with blood, sweat and tears.

“You were always so gullible, the both of you,” Henry continues, though Eddie must have missed the beginning of his words, as even these ones barely reach him through the pain.

“What did you do to him?” he asks around a mouthful of blood, spitting at Henry’s feet, revealing in the sick twist of his mouth that Eddie can just barely make out as his vision blurs dangerously.

“What did we do to him? Oh, even a decade later you are still the same stupid boy you were then, hmm? It is you who did this to him. It is you who betrayed him, killing Eddie Munson and becoming Kas The Betrayer. Do you not recall?”

His world tilts suddenly as Henry fills his mouth with a bitter liquid, clamping his mouth shut so Eddie has no choice but to swallow it all.

“Surely you do remember the way you shoved your blade between Munson’s ribs on your way out of this cell all these years ago, cutting out his heart and making it your first feast of your newly-won freedom. Surely you remember betraying the Prince’s trust and then killing his lover and his best friend. You must remember, stupid boy, and know that your execution will bring freedom to the Prince’s mind that is so trapped in its vengefulness.”

Nausea overcomes him and he retches, but Henry prevents him from throwing up and emptying his bowels to rid himself from whatever the alchemist uses to cloud his senses and reshape the world to his very own liking.

“Shut up,” Eddie wheezes, earning a well-placed punch for his troubles. “Don’t touch him. Don’t you… Don’t you touch him.”

A smile fills his vision as Henry comes close to hum as he turns Eddie’s face this way and that, keeping him from shaking it as images of a false history manifest in his mind.

“Oh, I won’t have to touch him. See, he will realise what he has done on the scaffold. The veil over his eyes will be lifted when your heart stops beating, all the pieces will fall into place, but still he will be blind, for the veil will be replaced with the ghost of you, slowly fading beneath him.”

Henry is circling him, stalking him like a predator his prey. Eddie has not been prey in so long. He does not know how to suppress the shivers or the horror at the tale woven around him.

“And then, sword still in hand as it drips with your blood, despair will overcome him and he will follow you. The kingdom will be freed of the King’s pest of an heir, and I will lend his grieving Majesty a helping hand in ruling his kingdom. That is, of course, until he, too, ultimately succumbs to grief for his only son, leaving only myself to rebuild and reshape first the kingdom and then the whole world just the way I want.”

He comes to a stop in front of him, another dark green flask in his hand.

“You are but a pawn in this, Kas.”

More of the bitter liquid flows down his throat and Eddie almost chokes on it, coughing it up and trying to resist, but Henry is stronger than he is. Always has been.

And with poison in his ears and his bloodstream alike, Henry’s words grow truths inside Kas’s mind; the memory of Eddie Munson dying on his blade, the blood dripping down his fingers as he takes a bite of the man’s heart, and the prince’s screams in his ear at this ultimate betrayal, for that heart belonged to him.

When he loses his grasp on consciousness, out of breath and out of his mind with pain, he wishes for the scaffold. He wishes for the Prince to take his life and settle the debt. Avenge his love. Avenge what Kas can only ever dream about.

***

Gradually, over the span of only three days spent in either sensory deprivation or torture, Henry manages to drain the dredges of Eddie’s false identity and replace them with what really happened; replace them with Kas. With guilt, with shame, with a debt so severe it could never be paid back as long as Kas remains alive.

He forgets about most of Henry’s visits, wakes up with new injuries and new memories, the reserves of water left for him tasting bitter and wrong, but he is always so desperate for it, he has not the luxury of choice.

The Prince never comes.

***

The third sun rises and finds Kas a broken man.

They lead him out in chains and shackles, like he poses any risk of escaping. Like he doesn’t welcome what is about to come. Like he doesn’t—

He…

Kas falters in his steps the very second he lays eyes on the Prince, hand resting on the hilt of a broadword that looks to be expertly crafted. A sword has been made for your head, after all. He swallows, ignoring the guard that kicks him in the shin and punches him in the neck, telling him to move forward.

His head aches the longer he watches the Prince, the world around him becoming hazy as guilt and shame wash over him, the feeling that this is right, this is what he deserves. And still, underneath it all, when Prince Steven meets his eyes, there is the nagging feeling that none of this is right at all. That the Prince should not be looking at him like that, should not be holding onto that sword, should not be his own executioner.

It splits his head, but still he is helpless against the shackles, cannot struggle when the guards pull him along instead.

The Prince says not a word until Kas the Betrayer kneels before him, and once again there is a wave of familiarity that comes from this action, but he cannot place it. Kas has never knelt for anyone, so it must be wrong. It must be instinct, the last desperate flare of a dying flame, leaving him disoriented, his head flooded with visions of how life could have been.

The headache mingles with a new wave of fevered need to live, to rip apart these shackles and kill every guardsman and the King himself before he leaves the sandstone castle behind him once more.

But there is also a strange sensation of calmness that tells him he is willing to let it happen like it must. He is willing to give this to the Prince and repent. He is willing to give it all up and give in to this.

Kas the Betrayer is ready to die. He is too tired to alter the course of fate any longer.

But then? Oh, a lone man’s willingness is not force strong enough to defy the will of Fate herself.

Because when Prince Steven opens his mouth, all the bitterness leaves Eddie’s mouth, all the visions become unveiled at the sound of that voice that for decades now has held him through pain and pleasure alike, the voice that whispered promises of a future together of even just five minutes away from prying eyes.

When Prince Steven opens his mouth, Kas becomes Eddie once more, coming to life again inside his own tired, exhausted, agonised head.

“Any last wish?”

For those to be the words that save him carries a strange sense of irony, and Eddie knows it’s too late. He knows the plan will commence. Maybe it’s for the better. Ten years he has suffered without his heart, ten years spent shunned and banished and labeled a traitor to all kingdoms simply because he dared to love his Prince more than his King. Ten years that have left him tired and worn out, without a purpose to his ways.

And Steve, subjected to Henry and his alchemy, his poisons and potions, his bitterness that will turn your insides to flames. Steve, tortured and manipulated for ten years without Eddie there to protect him.

Maybe it’s for the best that it should end now. That it should end like this. He has no strength left in his body, could not free himself or the Prince even if he were foolish enough to try.

Still he finds himself relieved that he should die inside his own head this time. That small mercies and miracles alike will grant him this. Looking at Steve as he takes his last breaths.

So, does he have any last wish?

“Yes,” he croaks, daring to look up into those once so beautiful eyes that hold no warmth anymore.

Tell me what they did to you. A kiss from my Prince. Don’t turn this blade on yourself when this life has left my body. Believe me when I say this is a trap, and I am not who you think I am.

But he says none of that. Wishes for something else. Wishes not for himself.

He swallows, straightening his back. “I wish that you would… That you would just, just listen to me.” Fear overcomes him, and he knows these will be his last words.

The Prince inclines his head, intent at least on listening. Good. That’s good.

Because now, for the first time in a decade, Eddie will utter these words to ears that will listen. Fear grips his heart, squeezing around it until it stops. And still he speaks.

“I love you. And I forgive you.”

tagging: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @madigoround @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 (i have a permanent tag list now, lmk if you want on or off 🤍 these are only the ones who commented on the post) (sorry the first tag should be so fucked up mwah)

note: i posted this last night but then wanted to double check with the lovely lovely mod of steddielovemonth (kith for you!) if this was okay to post, and she said yes, so fever dream round 2! sorry for the inconvenience, thank you for the patience! 🤍

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #this is still a fever dream of a fic #this one goes out to all the blorbos from my notes who wished for this to come back 🤍#i could (and probably should) make this a 10k thing but i kinda love the lack of context of background that comes w these types of stories #we just vibin with fucked up dynamics and more questions than the text could answer yesss #(but i keep wanting to add to it help. anyone know what's going on? no? me neither come join the club the words just be happening)#dark!fic #<- not really but the themes are there yknow #konrad von würzburg would be proud of me for this #dio words #dio's steddie ramblings

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