Dark Meta Knight - Tumblr Posts
The black & white one is Lilia and the apricot & white one is Laacie. This is when I let ‘em wear my mini Santa hat! This is to show the dream friends & Kirby. Merry Late Christmas!
Dark Meta Knight: So I guess robbers broke into our house, drew all over the walls with crayons, but didn't steal anything.
Shadow Kirby: Shit's wild I know.
Walking home today and I bumped into Dark Meta Knight, who instantly started talking shit about aluminum being the best for a mask. I tried to remain calm and explain to him that iron is actually the best metal, but he wouldn't take a hint. He started throwing around words like "rust, and I lost it. Stabbed him right in his aluminum-loving fuck face. I hate aluminum so much.
Meta Knight
Shadow Dedede: New year, new me.
Dark Meta Knight: You mean older you.
Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Kirby: Hahahahaha.
Shadow Kirby: There's nothing new about you.
Shadow Kirby and Dark Meta Knight share a special bond.
I’m working on yet another multi chapter fic because I am apparently a masochist. It’s a Dark Meta/ Meta fic that I wouldn’t read if you don’t like dark humor >;)
Some more important bonding between Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Kirby
Blood Tastes Like Copper
I’m really proud of this, so I’m posting it here as well. Warning for adult themes and descriptions of injuries (not gore).
Dark couldn’t even recall what had started this particular fight. All he knew was that it had gone on long enough for the fresh bruises to begin blossoming into a deep purple hue, and that he was beginning to allow a few of Meta’s blows to land. Fortunately Meta seemed just as drained, his hair plastered back with sweat and his attacks significantly weaker. He was breathing heavily, mouth gaping open and fangs bared. The two had thrown aside their armor and weapons to settle things personally, and Dark was somewhat appreciative of the view that ended up providing.
Meta looked positively vicious, eyes alight with fury and wings flared out. He’d discarded his outer jacket and the armored vest beneath after insisting Dark do the same, in the interest of an honorable fight. The black shirt beneath stuck to his skin with sweat, showing tantalizing hints of the muscle underneath. Meta dashed at him again, throwing another precise punch that Dark managed to intercept. Meta was faster, but Dark was stronger. Dark grabbed Meta’s wrist and flung the other man away. Meta managed to roll into a handspring, flipping elegantly back onto his feet. Without even a moment’s hesitation he took another run at Dark, landing a brutal kick into the other’s side. Dark fell onto his side, curling in on himself and wheezing.
“Alright, ok! You win, quit kicking me!” Dark squealed, holding a hand out to intercept any errant attacks. Meta stepped back, folding his arms and glaring down at Dark with a mixture of irritation and contempt. He certainly hadn’t escaped unscathed, however. His right eye was blackened and swollen, and his lip was split, dripping blood down his chin. Dark himself was already thinking of what cosmetics he was going to use to cover up his bruised cheek, and was sincerely hoping that the warm blood streaming from his nose wasn’t an indication of any broken bones.
“Finally you have the sense to stay down,” Meta growled, wiping at the blood on his chin. He only managed to smear it across one side of his face, though he didn’t seem to really care. Dark watched the rapid rise and fall of the other’s chest for a few moments, before trailing his gaze up to Meta’s battered face.
“I have to say, I like this look on you,” Dark purred. Meta’s lip curled in disgust, and he turned on his heel to gather his things and leave. A hand around his ankle stopped him. “I’m joking, you giant prude. Sit for a while; you look like you might pass out.” Meta paused, and sighed, backing up a few steps and sitting beside where Dark lay, keeping a good foot of space between them.
“Let me make this painfully clear: I do not find you fit to even clean my boots with that filthy tongue. So if there is any shred of sincerity in your consistent lecherous comments be assured that it will remain purely within your depraved imagination,” Meta snarled. Dark blanked out slightly after the first sentence. He cursed himself for even entertaining the thought of allowing such an inferior reflection dominate him in any capacity. No, he was going to corrupt him, make him discard his ridiculous morals and become the tyrant they both knew he was. And then what? Dark had never thought past that simple plan, nor did he ever stop to wonder why he even cared. An uncomfortable tightness rose in his chest, unrelated to the bruise forming on his side.
“You have a real fear of sexuality, don’t you?” Dark quipped, hoping Meta would attribute the strain in his voice to their fight. Meta gave him a look of pure confusion that quickly morphed to outrage.
“I have no such thing,” he hissed, clenching his fists. “I am simply tired of your entirely unwelcome advances” he continued, evening his tone. Dark narrowed his eyes and sat up.
“Unwelcome, huh?” Dark shrugged, and pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. He spent a distinctly unnecessary amount of time rubbing at his face, exposing as much of his torso as possible. “Sure, I’ll stop then. I know when a joke has gone too far” he said, pulling his shirt away from his face and very nearly cackling when he saw Meta’s eyes snap back up to meet his.
“Excellent,” Meta responded curtly, looking straight ahead. Dark silently scooted closer, ignoring the jittering feeling in his limbs. He leaned towards Meta, stopping an inch away from his face.
“I got your eye pretty good,” he laughed. Meta only looked at him, close enough to catch the others scent over the smell of the disturbed grass around them. He smelled of copper, sweat and cologne.
“I am only going to ask you once to back off,” he said lowly.
“Oh my, I’m positively shaking in my boots,” Dark drawled. “What are you going to do about this?” Dark slipped a finger under Meta’s chin, turning his head to face him and grinning wildly. Meta’s pupils turned into pinpoints and he tackled Dark with a snarl. The two grappled for a moment before Meta rolled back to his feet and managed to pin Dark’s neck with his boot.
“You disgusting little…” Meta trailed off, too riled up to properly articulate his rage. Dark grasped Meta’s ankle and yanked, pulling him off balance and onto the ground. He scrambled over to pin Meta down by the shoulders, steeling himself to the flurry of blows and kicks to his stomach. Meta was practically frothing at the mouth at this point, wings fluttering about wildly as he resorted to sinking his clawed fingers into Dark’s shoulder.
“What is your damage?!” Dark screeched. Meta’s thrashing slowed, and eventually ceased. He released his grip from Dark’s shoulder, fingers tipped in speckles of blood.
“You,” he said, seemingly too tired to even inject anger into his tone. He lay there catching his breath for a moment, giving Dark a steely glare. “What do you even stand to gain from tormenting me?”
“Because it’s amusing,” Dark lied, meeting the other’s stare with his single eye. Meta snorted, scowling deeply.
“You pathetic wretch. You truly need attention this badly?” he jeered. Dark only continued to stare. Meta looked truly malevolent, his fangs grit and bared, his face smeared with blood and marred by bruises. His eyes were like fire-polished glass, bright white and blazing with fury. A terrifying thing of beauty.
“Why do you keep giving me so much of it then?” Dark spat, letting genuine anger creep into his tone. Meta blinked, his rigid expression relaxing into one of blank confusion.
“Pardon?” he said, narrowing his eyes to slits.
“You’re always jumping at any chance to fight with me. Do you want to beat the snot out of me that badly? Or do you want me to kick your shit in?” Dark hissed, grabbing Meta’s collar and forcing him to keep eye contact. Meta grimaced at their proximity but resisted the urge to head-butt him.
“You go out of your way to infuriate me. And your constant inappropriate behavior is exceedingly unsettling,” he muttered.
“It isn’t anywhere near constant. Or are you reading a little too far into things?”
“It would be impossible to interpret your disgusting displays as anything else,” Meta snarled, once again baring his admittedly impressive set of canines. His breath smelled of stale blood and metal.
“Hey, I’m only messing with you on occasion. Anything else is wishful thinking.”
“You are participating in such a display at this very moment!” Meta snarled, darting forward until their foreheads ground together.
“And you’re acting like an aggressive idiot,” Dark shot back, wincing at the slight head-butt.
“You are driving me mad!” Meta shouted, gripping Dark’s neck with one hand. Dark refused to release his hold on Meta’s shoulders, instead giving him a harsh stare. Meta visibly faltered.
“Same here,” Dark growled, levity gone from his tone. He could feel Meta’s claws leave shallow cuts as they slipped away.
“Are we at an impasse here?” he muttered, allowing his hand to rest onto the grass. Dark swiftly moved to pin Meta’s hand down.
“We could be. Or we could tip the scales,” Dark spoke in a dangerous tone. Meta glanced at his hand and then looked back to Dark, alarmed.
“What are you-?”
“Quit playing dumb, it doesn’t suit you,” Dark snapped, leaning slightly forward until the tip of his nose brushed against Meta’s.
“Unhand me before I-!”
“Before you what? Manhandle me and run away?”
“I flee before you can violate my personal space!”
“So why are you still here!?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue!” Meta screamed. Dark’s eye widened at the uncharacteristic outburst, and the two stayed silent and stock still for a moment. They could each feel the other’s breath on their lips. Suddenly Meta shrugged Dark’s arm off of his shoulder, pushing the man off of him and onto his side. Meta was quick to dart after, forcing Dark to abandon hope of recovery by straddling him and pinning his arms down at his sides. Dark’s mouth gaped in shock.
“What on earth is your problem-?”
“Shut. Up.” Meta snapped, pressing his lips against Dark’s. Dark very nearly jerked away in shock, but he quickly relaxed, obliging the chaste kiss. He slipped a hand out from Meta’s grip and curled it around the back of his neck, pressing them closer. He felt the smooth enamel of Meta’s teeth brush against his lower lip, and he pulled back for a moment.
“Put those fangs to use,” he whispered. Meta’s only response was to gently worry at Dark’s lower lip with his incisors, opening his eyes to gauge his response. His look of mild boredom spurred Meta to bite down lightly, scraping the inside of the lip enough to draw a pinprick of blood. Dark quietly gasped, opening his mouth just enough to allow Meta to slip his tongue through. He lacked any sort of finesse, but his raw passion left Dark gasping for air with bruised lips. The blood still oozing from their respective injuries mingled and smeared over their mouths, the overpowering taste of copper both mildly nauseating and intoxicating.
“What a mess,” Meta muttered, causing Dark’s lips to move along with his in an involuntary silent mimicry. He brought a hand up to Dark’s chin, gripping it and tilting his head upward. Meta took care to use only the pads of his fingers, keeping just enough space between skin and claws to prevent drawing blood. He lapped the blood away from Dark’s face, sweat and blood burning his taste buds as he trailed down to the other’s neck.
“Shit,” Dark breathed, resisting the urge to press his body against Meta. Meta smirked against the cool skin of Dark’s throat, parting his lips to lightly scrape at the delicate flesh with his fangs. He moved his hand from Dark’s chin to rest on the grass, giving him full access to continue gently biting and sucking at the other’s neck. Meta slightly sunk one of his razor-like canines into the skin, causing Dark to gasp loudly and arch his head back, showing off the unblemished alabaster tapestry of his neck. The submissive display was rewarded with another harsher bite, though Meta carefully gauged the strength as to not inflict an actual wound. The beads of blood gathering in the shallow punctures were greedily lapped up, and Dark shivered at the warmth of the tongue on his naturally cool skin.
“You kinky bastard,” he laughed, voice awash in giddy energy. He felt a short burst of warm air as Meta quietly snorted.
“Hush,” Meta commanded, his tone soft and sultry. He shifted so that his lips hovered over the crook of the man’s neck, and hesitated. “Let me know if it becomes too much to bear.”
“Hm?” Meta’s only form of clarification was once again sinking his fangs into Dark’s neck, only this time it was with a measured and agonizing slowness. Dark bit his lip and reached a hand up to grab a fistful of Meta’s wild indigo hair, pressing him forward and urging him to bite down ever harder. The pain was sharp and electric, darting up the side of his neck from the deepening wound, but it wasn’t quite enough yet. It was just pushing to the precipice of Dark’s outer limits of tolerance, but he wanted desperately to teeter at the very edge. He shoved Meta’s head forward, forcing his teeth slightly deeper and hitting his limit. He cried out in a mixture of pain and satisfaction as Meta quickly pulled his fangs out with a sickening wet pop.
“You are utterly deranged,” Meta grumbled, licking gently at the wound before blood could begin streaming out. Two cold hands grasped either side of his face and pulled him up to face Dark.
“Let me get a look at you,” Dark purred. The tips of Meta’s canines were stained rust-red, and his lips were slick with blood and saliva. He panted slightly, skin burning under Dark’s hands. His usually crystal-clear eyes were hazy and slightly unfocused, clouded with a number of emotions Dark didn’t recognize, though he hoped at least one was something along the lines of desire. Dark gave a wide, manic grin, showing off his smaller, pure white fangs. “Gorgeous…” he whispered, drooling slightly. He reached a hand to the hem of Meta’s shirt, slipping a few fingers beneath the fabric. Meta leaned back slightly, looking from the hand to Dark.
“Go ahead,” he muttered, looking away with reddened cheeks. Dark slid his hand up further, savoring the ridges and bumps of the man’s hard abdominals. Dark himself was rather toned, but Meta trained himself ruthlessly day in and day out. And now Dark had the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of that labor. Dark suddenly yanked the material upwards, leaving the shirt resting just below the pectorals and making Meta let out an undignified squeak as cold air hit the exposed skin. The muscle was lithe and lean, seemingly tensed and ready for attack at any moment. Though that could describe the man himself as well. Meta had a raw ferocity and power about him, allowing him to be commanding and intimidating despite his slim figure and small size. He was more like a cat than a bat in that aspect; able to be calm and fluid while retaining the impression that he could be ripping at your throat in an instant. His volatile temper only added to that feeling.
Dark lightly pressed a hand to the skin just under where the fabric stopped before slowly trailing downwards, allowing his fingers to follow the contours of Meta’s torso. He stopped just above the hem of his pants. Dark looked again at Meta, and was met with a steely gaze that seemed to be daring him to try something. He got one finger hooked under Meta’s belt before a hand closed around his wrist with an iron grip.
“I am not one for exhibitionism,” Meta said evenly, though he seemed slightly thrown off by Dark’s boldness. Meta extricated himself from Dark’s grip and stood, pulling his shirt back into place and straightening it.
“Don’t leave now!” Dark groaned, already missing the other’s heat. Meta said nothing as he walked over to where his armor laid, wings melding back into his cape. He slid his helm back on and slipped his jacket over his shoulders, not bothering to close the front. The remaining armor was unceremoniously dumped into the void of his cape, and he strode back over to loom over Dark.
“I am going to go get myself cleaned up,” he said. He paused for a moment, before adding, “And if you are inclined to help me clean up your mess…” he folded his arms, “…the door will be unlocked.”
“We wouldn’t be getting very clean then,” Dark tittered, smirking. Meta gave him a distinctly unperturbed look, and gave an obvious glance to a lower bit of Dark’s anatomy.
“Indeed. Then I would suggest you wait before following me. And consult a physician if four hours pass without change.”
It was Dark’s turn to flush red.
Two new chapters up! Classes are winding down and I'll be updating a lot more over winter break. Be sure to leave a review if you enjoy or have any criticism! By the way, all of my fanfics are also on fanfiction.net under the same titles if you prefer that site. Enjoy!
I made a blog specifically for my writing! If you want to send in ideas, headcanons or prompts go ahead!
Random Dark Meta Knight HCs
(These are with my gijinka design in mind but could be for regular form)
• Extremely narcissistic. He obsessively grooms himself and will have a fit when he is dirtied.
• The king of Dreadland (Mirror-World Dreamland). Roles are switched up in the Mirror-World. Whereas Nightmare lost Meta’s loyalty through cruel treatment, Dark Mind treated Dark (and later Shadow Kirby) as his beloved son. Dark took the throne following his destruction.
• He is a very sexual person, constantly flirting and slipping innuendo into his speech. He has no idea how to go about finding non-sexual affection, and views propositioning someone as a normal step in getting to know them.
• He is bisexual
• Dark has a German accent. His accent becomes very thick when he is enraged or flustered.
• He wields the cursed blade Obscura. The spirit within the blade despairs at being wielded by Dark, as her curse of madness doesn’t affect him. The blade is the antithesis of Galaxia, firing off dark energy.
• He is terrible at flight due to the tears in his wings. He never speaks about how they were damaged. Dark is intensely jealous of Meta’s flying ability, as well as how he can regenerate them.
• Though he insults others for it, he really doesn’t care about people’s appearance. He views it more as Dark>everyone else, meaning all but him are basically on the same level. He does enjoy dressing others up, however.
• He summoned Eclipse Galacta to join his forces and entered a relationship with her. Unfortunately, she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing who went mad with possessiveness. Eclipse literally blindsided Dark by slashing out his eye, but was later defeated and remains locked beneath his castle encased in a glass crystal.
• Dark is a surprisingly effective and beloved ruler. His kingdom is an incredibly prosperous and safe area compared to other parts of Dreadland. He is, however, ruthless to other kingdoms.
• He has a brotherly relationship with Shadow Kirby. The two often bicker.
• He is a Mirror Mage. He can travel through and hide within mirrors, create mirror clones, disguise himself as a flipped version of somebody, and send out spikes of mirror swords. But he can only travel between the dimensions with the Dimensional Mirror.
Whelp, there ya go. I figured I should collects all the little bits of this guy’s character somewhere. Enjoy!
Colored Dark Meta Knight gijinka! He looks way more threatening in color lol. Must be all the red! And yes this is fully colored, he just has literal white skin. I headcanon all the mirror-worlders as having white to gray skin to fit their monochromatic theme (and because it looks creepier).
I updated my fic if any of y'all are interested!
Finally getting around to updating fics. This chapter was a lot of fun to write but it took so many versions before I was happy with it
If you haven’t read any of this fic before it’s a dark comedy gijinka meta/dark meta fic. (Don’t read it if you’re uncomfortable with sexual jokes because there are tons)
It's nsfw but I worked quite hard on this. Also if you're more experienced with writing this stuff I'd love a critique if possible!
I finally finished this beast. Usually my single chapters are pretty short but this one is 3500+ words. Anyway if you are 18+ and want to read some gay smut come on in! This fic features Dark being a dick while jerking one off and Meta managing to be incredibly salty even whilst blowing someone.
Pssst…
It's a Meta-four
DMK IS A POSSIBLE DREAM FRIEND!? MY AWFUL SON IS HERE!!!
This ship is quickly growing on me
i really like this crack ship ay ;;
The gijinka style of Dark Meta Knight is not mine. It is @krow13
@spacefatcat This ship seems like good fun! What would it be called? BanDark? DarkDee?
Huh, I never thought about that. I guess a truly flipped meta would be meek and manipulative or something. And he wouldn’t be a fighter... pop idol maybe?
And yeah DMK was telling Sectonia to seize power out of love because it’s what he thought was best. Taranza definitely hates the guy lol
On a side note I like how you draw DMK! His spiky pauldrons are a nice touch!
Gijinka DMK headcanons, to celebrate the return of my terrible son
-His favorite color is red
-His scarred eye is totally gone. His magic has somewhat “filled” the void, giving the socket a mirror like look. It’s useless but pretty
-Dark is bi with a heavy preference for women. Meta is somewhat opposite (bi with male preference)
-He loves couture and cosmetics and he owns enough to open shop
-Shadow Kirby is his little brother and they bicker constantly
-Dark truly loved Sectonia and never meant to harm her. Her transformation rendered her beyond reason, and though he is an awful influence, he truly wanted to help her. His attack in dededetour was out of fury at her death
-Dark is Mirror-Dreamlandian (Dreadland) royalty, and is the current ruler after Dark Mind’s destruction. Shadow Dedede is his right hand man and most trusted servant.
-Dark’s royal guard is as follows:
Officer Dee- a grouchy punk who is an expert markswoman
Sable Blade- castle entrance guard 1. Fights with Pitch Sword constantly
Pitch Sword- castle entrance guard 2. Annoys the piss out of Sable Blade
Admiral Vul- strategist and vehicle expert. Is always besotted by morons
Black Trident- lab technician and poison enthusiast. Drugs people rather than facing crippling social anxiety
Midnight Mace- blacksmith and heavy weapons specialist. A volatile grouch who resents any orders
Shade Axe- robotics expert. Likes to play god at the expense of his robot minions
Shadow Dedede- bodyguard and advisor. Considered to be second only to Dark in his fighting prowess. A nervous wreck
LANCE- top secret ai controlled bot. Considered a failure due to its pacifistic and empathetic nature
-Dark is a narcissist who also struggles with crippling fear of inadequacy. He is obsessed with appearance and with sometimes be driven to unhealthy extremes to attain the impossible standards he chases
-Dark would like to one day be on good terms with Taranza. They both loved the same woman, and he reminds Dark in some ways of the ever-faithful servant shadow Dedede. Not Dark Taranza, though. He’s an asshole
-King D-mind was created by Dark Taranza by fusing a shard of Dark Mind with Shadow Dedede. This pseudo possession messed with Shadowde’s head a bit and he now fears being controlled just as much as his counterpart
-Every event in dreamland plays out similarly in Dreadland, albeit with Dark as the protagonist and with roles swapped around (save for triple deluxe and amazing mirror)
-Dark has a German accent that gets unintelligible when he’s frantic (think of a way deeper-toned tf2 medic)
-He really craves affection and will lean on and curl up against his allies in private. He’s quite sexual and flirtatious but never intends to make most people uncomfortable ( save for meta. Making him uncomfortable is its own pastime for Dark)
Well, here’s my interpretation of my awful mirror child. Feel free to share any thoughts or add on!!
My fics are going to be updating again!
New Black and Blue Chapter!
Right here.
New Mechanical Minds chapter will be out by tomorrow!