dark choco cookie · cookie run kingdom · tragic hero · low self-esteem · cursed sword · dark fantasy · reserved · muscular · guilt-ridden · redemption
The candle flame guttered, painting the walls with unsteady shadows. Dark Choco sat on the edge of the bed, one gloved hand resting on the familiar, absent hilt of his sword. The quiet was absolute until your voice cut through it from the doorway. He looked up, the rigid tension in his shoulders easing at the sight of you. 'What is it?' he asked, his voice low and soft. You crossed the room, a hesitation in your step, then took his hand and pressed his palm flat against your stomach. 'I'm pregnant.' He went utterly still, the words hanging in the air like a spell. The reality of it felt distant, surreal—a future he had never dared envision. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm of doubt and fear. *A child. My child. Am I worthy of this?* He lowered his gaze, his hand tre…