#All hail his majesty

[bea-n-art]

When you are both a King and a Queen. Buy it as a print: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/beanart

https://ko-fi.com/beanart

[chimerasmoon]

Your dog is now the King of Tumblr.

living in a village of farmers is the fucking best i just left a party and the butcher was like hey i got some bones for your dog. your dog specifically because i like the cut of his jib. hell yeah

do you know how fucking great it is to get home tipsy as hell wake up your dog he is already exited to see you and you are like here you go a big bone for your majesty...my man thought he was damn heaven!! so good

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: monster/creature friendships

Do you like movies like Alien vs Predator, Venom, and Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes? Do you enjoy dragon riders and talking animal companions? Friendly yet deeply inhuman aliens? Monster children and monster parents? Consider yourself less of a monster fucker and more of a monster best friend? Watch horror movies and fantasize about befriending the horrifying ghosts and ghoulies? Then this is the list for you!

A note: some of these books do have romance subplots, but not as the most important relationship or focus.

A (second) note: the criteria for "monster" are subjective. I looked mainly for titles featuring creatures who neither look nor act/think human. In cases where they are more human looking, I wanted a distinctly inhuman mind and morality, meaning most books featuring vampires, werewolves, fey, etc are excluded. I may have included books you feel aren't monstrous enough, or excluded ones you feel are sufficiently monstrous but I don't agree about. Again, it’s subjective.

Feel free to leave your own recs in the notes, but please know that if you rec books featuring mostly human vampires and werewolves I will be judging. I have separate lists for those, go look there instead.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of the earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Fragment by Warren Fahy*

The reality TV show Sealife is having a rough time - as it turns out, a ship full of scientists doesn’t make for the kind of drama they hoped for. Hoping for some excitement, they reach Hender’s Island, a fragment of a lost continent that may contain an interesting new ecosystem. But as they step foot on the island, they quickly come to realize the ecosystem isn’t just new, it’s highly dangerous and very hungry. Among all this life is one single species that may be more dangerous than any other, but which may also be the salvation of the scientists on the island. A bit wonky, but genuinely one of the most fun books I have read, I love it so much.

The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis*

Francie has just traveled to Roswell to attend her college friend’s wedding to a UFO conspiracist. Not a believer herself, Francie is shocked when she finds herself abducted by an alien. Her abductor is not much what popular media would have you believe, looking more like a tumbleweed than a grey alien, and is clearly on some kind of mission it isn’t willing to put on hold for the sake of Francie attending to her duties as a bridesmaid. As more people get roped along - among those a conman, an old lady, a ufo conspiracist, and a retiree with an RV - Francie finds herself getting closer to the alien and wanting to help it succeed.

The Last Human by Zack Jordan

Young adult. Sarya is a human - the only one of her kind. Living with her adoptive mother - a vicious, insectile alien - on a space station surrounded by hundreds of other alien species, Sarya spends every day staying below the radar and hiding her true identity. But when an odd new alien arrives on the station, she may finally get an answer to her biggest question: why humanity was deemed too dangerous to be allowed to exist.

Alien vs. Predator: Prey by Steve Perry & S.D. Perry*

On desert planet Ruyshi, businesswoman Machiko Noguchi is about to take over the leading position in a small human colony. Her job is made infinitely harder when the colony comes under attack on two fronts as two species of vicious aliens choose it as their battle ground. If you're reading this list, you probably already know of the movie by the same name. The book, while completely different in setting and cast, does feature many similar plot points, among those a third act team-up between a human woman and a murderous alien.

Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

Millenia and generation spanning scifi. After the collapse of an empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millenia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home, only to be met by the artificial remains of the ancient woman who once led the uplift project - and she is not willing to let them on her planet.

The Moon and the Sun by Vonda N. McIntyre

You can’t go wrong with a Vonda McIntyre novel just, like, in general. This one is set in 17th century France, where a young woman and her brother travel to live at the royal court, where they are to care for and study a strange captured sea monster fabled to have the ability to grant eternal life. A lot of focus on court politics as well as the cultural and biological differences between the humans and the mermaid. Also available as a movie (but it’s not very good, please just read the book).

Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys*

Lovecraftian fishpeople! Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it. Does contain horror elements but is generally a much more optimistic look on cosmic horror than most lovecraftian stories, told from the perspective of one of his monsters. Lots of focus on found family and rebuilding of community.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist. Together, can they find a way to save the multiverse?

The Spider and Her Demons by sydney khoo*

Young adult. All teenager Zhi wants is a normal life (and possibly for her harsh aunt to be a bit nicer), but it’s hard when she’s half spider demon. Every day she must conceal her true nature and hide in human guise. When she slips up and eats a man in front of her rich, aloof classmate Dior, Zhi thinks her life is over. But Dior has secrets of her own, and she is dead set on making herself a part of Zhi's life.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult fantasy. Artemisia prefers the dead to the living, and is training to become a Gray Sister, a nun who helps the souls of the deceased pass on to the afterlife rather than remain as dangerous spirits. To defend her convent, Artemisia accepts the help of a dangerous revenant, a powerful spirit which grants her great power but also could possess her the moment her guard is lowered. As evil threatens her homeland, Artemisia and the revenant must find a way to work together.

Slewfoot: a Tale of Bewitchery by Brom

Historical horror. Young Englishwoman Abitha has only recently arrived and married into a Puritan colony when she unexpectedly becomes a widow. As she strives to save her small farm from going under in the wake of tragedy, something dark and dangerous stalks the surrounding woods. He doesn't know whether he's spirit, devil, or god, doesn't even know his own name, and in requesting Abitha's help, both their lives are changed forever.

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Young adult. Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed when the fallout from lyme disease puts her back, making her question if she'll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid's condition is a bit hairier than she expected.

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult. Elisabeth is a librarian, trained to handle grimoires - books of magic which, if mishandled, can turn into horrifying monsters. When an act of sabotage leads to the release of one of the library's most dangerous grimoires, Elisabeth finds herself implicated in the crime. Forced to team up with an enemy sorcerer and his loyal and unpredictable demon servant, Elisabeth sets out to find out the truth of what happened.

The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey

In a post apocalyptic, zombie-infested wasteland, a group of characters try to stay alive and hope to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Malevolent by Harlan Guthrie*

Lovecraftian horror mystery. Private detective Arthur Lester wakes up in his office, his partner dead, memories fuzzy, vision gone, and the voice of a malevolent entity in his mind. Unable to see, Arthur is forced to rely on guidance from the entity as he attempts to solve the mystery of what it is and where it came from. Is this a book? No. But as someone who reads mostly audiobooks, the difference between a book and a fiction podcast is negligible, and also I love this story and its characters and want all of you to do so too.

Parasyte by Hitoshi Iwaka*

Horror manga, heavy on the bodyhorror. Shinichi Izumi wakes one day after a strange dream: that an alien parasite crawled into his arm. Soon he realizes it was more real than dream, and that an inhuman creature, having failed to eat and take over his brain, now controls his arm. Forced to cooperate, the two do their best to survive as more parasites quietly infiltrate society, meaning to devour our entire species. Also available as a very faithful anime!

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy*

Young adult. Twelve-year-old Stephanie Edgley's uncle, famed horror writer, just died mysteriously and left her his entire fortune. As it turns out, the stories he wrote weren't entirely made up, and that which killed him wasn't entirely human. In trying to avenge his death, Stephanie joins forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, sorcerer, detective, and living, walking skeleton.

The Cloud Roads by Martha Wells

Moon doesn't know what he is. Having lost his family young he lives on the move, shifting his shape to hide his true form. The only ones similar to himself he's ever encountered are the vicious, bloodthirsty Fell, but he knows he cannot be one of them. When chance leads to a meeting with someone like him, he hopes his days of loneliness are over. But his new people stand against a dangerous enemy, and not all of them welcome Moon's help. A departure from other titles on this list in that it features only creatures, with not a single human on page.

The Girl From the Well by Rin Chupeco

Young adult horror. Okiku died three hundred years ago, her body thrown down a well. Now she spends her days hunting for and punishing murderers like the one who once killed her. When a strange boy bearing odd tattoos appears in her area, he catches Okiku's attention - as does something that follows after him. To save the boy, Okiku will be drawn into a journey taking both of them from American suburbia to a faraway shrine in Japan.

Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova

When Magos loses her son Santiago to a longtime illness, she loses herself to grief and cuts out a piece of his lung. After hearing old folktales, she begins feeding it - and is shocked to find it growing and alive. Soon finding herself in charge of a hungry and bloodthirsty creature, Magos and her family must come together to care for what they can only see as a second chance for Santiago.

Semiosis by Sue Burke

A generational story following a group of humans trying to survive on a new planet, where a strange and unkowable intelligence is finding ways to use them to its whims. As the humans come across an abandoned city wrapped in the roots of a strange plant, they slowly come to the realization that mutual communication is the only path to peace and survival. Meanwhile, the alien finds itself tied all the more tightly to the growing human community.

The Stardust Grail by Yume Kitasei

Maya Hoshimoto used to be an art thief, and a damned good one to, until a disastrous heist made her retire into academia, hoping for peace and coping with an alien disease which causes her to see glimpses of the future. When an old friend tracks her down and asks her help to find and steal a legendary artifact that could save his entire species, Maya is convinced to do one last job.

Magical Girl Dandelion by Mizuho Kaeru

Manga. Tanpopo Ohanami's parents were killed by a phantom monster when she was young, but her life was saved by Shade, another phantom. Ever since then, Shade has been her friend, watching over her and keeping her safe. But then Tanpopo is revealed to be a potential magical girl, meant to fight the phantoms and protect humanity. Her and Shade are meant to be enemies, but can they instead work and fight alongside each other?

His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik

It’s the height of the Napoleonic Wars, and soldiers on dragon back fight each other in the air. Will Laurence isn't a dragonrider but a sea captain, but when his ship captures a French frigate and discovers a dragon egg about to hatch in his cargo, his life changes forever when he and the dragon hatchling bond.

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Middle grade. In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon: a talking animal companion who follows them throughout life. When children begin being stolen off the street, among them Lyra's friend, she must embark on a great journey to save him, taking her to the furthest north - and beyond.

A Redtail's Dream by Minna Sundberg*

Graphic novel inspired by Finnish mythology. When an irresponsible fox spirit accidentally traps an entire town in the dreamlands, it’s up to slacker Hannu and his talking, shapeshifting dog Ville to save everyone. Together the unwilling heroes must travel the dreamlands and locate the townsfolk, returning them to the waking world before the fox spirit sends them all on to death to hide his mistake. While the physical copy is all but impossible to get a hold of, the original webcomic can still be read for free here.

[letoasai]

Will work for food

DP x DC An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.

~~

It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment. 

The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams. 

Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy. 

A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.  

Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it. 

“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle. 

“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.” 

“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan. 

“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted. 

“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.” 

Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?” 

“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work. 

“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it. 

“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?” 

“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.” 

There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?” 

Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.” 

She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for. 

It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs. 

Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face. 

“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment. 

“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.” 

Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.” 

“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?” 

Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over. 

“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-” 

“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?” 

Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke. 

The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title. 

“I can handle that. Your deal?” 

Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-” 

“Pass.” 

That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly. 

“My soul then….” Raven muttered. 

“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!” 

Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.” 

Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away. 

“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.” 

Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer. 

“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?” 

The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.” 

“Wha…” Flash muttered. 

The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.” 

“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.  

“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.” 

The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough. 

“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked. 

The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds. 

He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction. 

“Cool.” Red Robin muttered. 

“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity. 

Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.” 

Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly. 

“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…” 

“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.” 

“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.” 

Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?” 

“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything. 

Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced. 

“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging. 

The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.” 

“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered. 

The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes. 

“My food?” 

“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.” 

The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage. 

“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?” 

The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face. 

His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green. 

With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head. 

“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.” 

Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”

Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action. 

The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.

Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water. 

It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed. 

In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating. 

Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare. 

His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale. 

He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger. 

They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing. 

Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag. 

“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small. 

Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.” 

Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form… 

“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…” 

Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.” 

He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him. 

“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.” 

Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?” 

Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.” 

“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him. 

“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?” 

“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering. 

Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin. 

“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.” 

“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression. 

Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.” 

Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.” 

Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself. 

“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either. 

“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”

“What?” 

Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.” 

“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!” 

“No way.” 

“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.” 

“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame. 

Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.” 

He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?

~~

Masterlist

[alternate-real-ities]

I'd love to see what alternate versions of this guy there are.

Sure buddy. It wasn't easy tuning my machine this time, but I think I've found some interesting realities out there! Hope you like them :)

In an alternate reality not so different from our own, this bearish hunk has taken on a more muscular, less chubby form - transformed into a behemoth. Here, he's not just any old gym rat; he's a world-famous powerlifter and internet celebrity whose influence knows no bounds.

Young men from all corners of the globe look up to him as their idol, their motivation, their reason for living - especially when it comes to getting swole. They follow his every post, eagerly absorbing each tip on training and nutrition like gospel from a fitness prophet. And why not? With a physique like his, who wouldn't want to emulate perfection?

His pecs are massive, each one a study in taut, rippling muscle that defies the laws of physics. His arms bulge with thickness, as if carved from granite by some mythical sculptor. His thighs are tree trunks, powerful and unyielding, while his calves are chiseled masterpieces of human anatomy.

But his influence extends far beyond the gym walls. In this world, a new wave of ripped teens has become the norm, thanks largely to their idolization of this muscular beast. Gone are the days of skinny, awkward youth; now, every boy from puberty onwards is driven to get big and buff in order to measure up.

Parents worry about the health implications, but who can blame them for wanting their sons to grow up strong and confident like this fitness icon? And as for the young men themselves, they'd follow him anywhere - even into the depths of steroid abuse if it means achieving that perfect, chiseled physique.

In this world, there's no escaping his shadow - nor would anyone want to. For in the presence of such unadulterated muscle majesty, all other men are but mere mortals, forever relegated to the sidelines while he reigns supreme as the ultimate embodiment of human potential.

In another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a towering Latin stud, the kind of papi that makes hearts race and loins stir across every continent. Hailing from Colombia, he grew up in a world where machismo is king, and his rugged good looks and powerful physique were destined for greatness.

Here, he's known as Papi Leche, a towering figure of masculine perfection with a body that could make even the most devout Catholic priests weep with lust. His skin is a rich, burnished brown that glistens with the sheen of oil and sweat after a long day at the gym.

But it's not just his physique that sets this Latino daddy apart - it's his legendary cum, renowned throughout the land for its unparalleled potency and addictive quality. Gringos from all over the world can't resist the allure of his Latin leche, once they've tasted its salty, intoxicating flavor.

He takes great pleasure in breaking them down, both physically and mentally, until they're nothing more than obedient little cumsluts desperate for another taste of his golden nectar. And he always delivers, pumping load after massive load into their eager mouths and throats until they're drowning in Latin dick juice.

And it's not just a physical addiction. They gradually change the more leche they drink. Their skin darkens, their features soften, and their accents change until they're speaking in perfect, melodic Spanish.

Before long, this Latino daddy has an entourage of half-Latino, half-gringo chicos who worship him and vie for his attention - all of them hooked on his leche like junkies on a fix.

So if you ever find yourself in Colombia, make sure to keep an eye out for this hulking bear of a man - but be warned: once you've caught sight of him, there's no escaping his gravitational pull. You'll be drawn in like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist the allure of his latin leche until you're nothing more than a mindless, cum-addicted shell of your former self.

Finally, in yet another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a cocky, wealthy young Arab stud - the epitome of Dubai's high-flying elite and a player in every sense of the word.

Here, he's the king of the scene, with a body that's equally at home on the beach or in the boardroom. His skin is a flawless, golden brown, his features chiseled like marble from the hands of a skilled sculptor.

As a member of Dubai's elite social circle, he moves through life like a prince among paupers - except instead of a crown, he wears a gold-plated watch on each wrist. He cruises the city in his gleaming black Lamborghini, with a string of adoring twink boys piled into the backseat for good measure.

These young men are just playthings for him to use and discard, their tight little holes and eager mouths mere receptacles for his boundless sexual appetite. He'll fuck them raw, pump them full of cum, and then toss them aside like yesterday's trash - all while smirking in satisfaction at the knowledge that he's left another broken little twink in his wake.

But it's not just about the physical act for this Arab stud; it's about the power dynamic. He loves nothing more than to humiliate his conquests, reducing them to quivering, tear-streaked messes as he lectures them on their place in the world - namely, at his feet, servicing his every whim.

And when he lets loose with that massive, cut Arab cock, it's a sight to behold - thick, veiny, and heavy as a horse's head, with a bulbous, slit-tipped crown that glistens with precum. It's the kind of dick that can stretch even the most well-fucked hole to its limits, leaving its recipients gasping in awe at his sheer size and potency.

And yet, despite all the degradation and abuse, these twinks can't get enough of him. They're addicted to the thrill of being used by such a powerful, dominant figure; they crave the taste of his cum on their tongues and the feeling of his thick, veiny cock splitting them open.

But despite all of this, this Arab boy has a soft spot for romance. He adores showering his favorite twink with expensive gifts and lavish dates - taking him to the finest restaurants and clubs, then whisking him away to his private villa for a night of passionate lovemaking under the stars.

So if you ever find yourself in this version of Dubai, keep an eye out for this hunky Arab stud. Just be prepared to worship him... and pray that he deigns to notice your pathetic little existence.

And so, once again, we have explored the possibilities that the multiverse provides. Which version of our friend here do you think is the most appealing? Or perhaps you have your own alternate version in mind? Who knows, the possibilities are endless...

[targ-shelby-stark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ 𝖎 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖊, 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

. ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ 𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⋆𖦹.✧˚

⤷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; language, FLUFF.

⤷ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; Aegon Targaryen, Original Female Character, Alicent Hightower (mention), Rhaenyra Targaryen (mention), Viserys Targaryen (mention).

⤷ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ; this is all work of fiction. in no way am i prompting the acts in this fictional story nor am i encouraging acts done or words said in this piece of writing. i heavily recommend only those who can stomach this universe proceed as the heavy themes are not the most suitable for a most audiences.

Aegon found himself in the throes of an unbearable headache. The cause remained a mystery to him— was it the remnants of last night's wine, or the ceaseless prattle of the Small Council on matters that held no interest for him? Yet, above all, it was his Mother's incessant nagging that grated on his nerves. Her unsolicited critiques and condescending remarks had left him feeling hollow, devoid of joy.

For two decades, he endured the relentless torment of inner conflict, torn between his true identity and the expectations placed upon him. Despite being named after a great conqueror, he harbored no ambition for political power. Though hailed as the kingdom's beacon of hope and the King's heir, he would willingly submit to Rhaenyra if it meant finding relief from the torment that consumed him.

He sought solace only in the peculiar wines and the depths of brothels. However, they were no longer sufficient. He was weary of the alcohol-induced headaches and the constricting pain in his chest after waking up next to a woman who was only there for payment. His pride was crumbling, and he could finally concede to the world's judgment of him; Aegon II Targaryen was indeed pathetic.

Aegon yearned for unspoiled air, free from the breath of others. He sought refuge in solitude, fearing that his inner turmoil would drive him to drastic action. The gardens offered a temporary reprieve, their natural beauty calming his troubled mind. Yet, it was not the flowers that brought him peace, but rather her comforting presence. It was she who soothed his troubled soul.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that she chose to stand by his side willingly. He was accustomed to women being in his presence out of obligation or for their own gain due to his royal status, but he could discern that she was there out of genuine desire. Despite her naivety as a foreigner in the court, she seemed genuinely sincere when she expressed her admiration for him. Or maybe she was not naive. She was smart; he dare say smarter than him in a lot of topics, but no amount of smart helped him understand why she wanted him.

"Your Majesty," she curtsies gracefully as she catches sight of him approaching. Aegon shook his head, "Simply fucking not. I am here to escape from all of that," he required no reminder of his identity. He longed for a few moments to simply be Aegon— not the King, not the man bearing the name of the great Targaryen conqueror, not the man embroiled in war. He despised that persona. He despised himself when he was himself. Yet, he could endure his own company when he was with her, and that was more affection than he had ever felt for himself.

He gazed upon her as she chuckled at his severity, the melodic sound reverberating within him. She remained unfazed by his inadvertent hostility. Was she aware that this was a result of his upbringing? Endless reprimands were all he received as a child, it was all he knew how to express.

She delicately toyed with her exquisite golden rings; oh, how he could admire her endlessly. His sole desire was to etch into his mind every one of her subtle mannerisms, to decipher her emotions with just a glance, to interpret the unspoken signals that revealed her innermost feelings. "What troubles you?" she softly murmured, her head tilted in genuine worry. Worry for him.

"Absolutely everything," Aegon exhaled deeply, wandering aimlessly in front of her, "I feel as though I could stand before Sunfyre and embrace her flames," he watched as her eyes widened slightly. She huffed out, "Please refrain from saying such things," her tone filled with dread. He smiled and casually remarked, "I have vowed to speak only the truth with you. And that, my dear, is the truth."

He observed her closely while she pondered her response. Each word carefully selected, not out of insincerity, but out of a genuine desire to provide him solace. She had once advised him to consider his words before speaking, she inspired him to follow suit as she spoke up, "What can I do to make you feel better?" she inquired.

He indeed considered the counsel and pondered his response. Aegon II Targaryen would retort with a clear desire for wine and the companionship of whores to alleviate his emptiness. But what words would Aegon choose? What would truly bring solace to Aegon? He remained uncertain. He had never looked beyond those trivial matters. Those basic indulgences that he had been taught were the sole source of a man's contentment.

Was he truly acquainted with his own being? By the Seven Hells, she provoked such profound contemplation within him. Yet, he understood the value in it. It was her influence that guided him towards self-awareness, allowing him to delve deeper into his thoughts. What could bring solace to Aegon? After much deliberation, he concluded, "Peace."

"Peace?" she inquired with curiosity, seeking further elucidation, yearning to delve deeper into his thoughts. Aegon pondered for a moment before responding, "I crave tranquility. I yearn to be free from the burdens of duty and the weight of responsibility," he paused, collecting his thoughts. With a resolute tone, he continued, "No. That is not entirely accurate. I do desire responsibility, but not in this form. I have no desire to wear the crown, for I am not fit for such a role. I am better suited for the responsibilities my Father neglected."

“What do you mean?”

"I intend," he murmured softly, "to outshine him, but not as a monarch. Rather, as a father," he chuckled softly. The image materialized before him, a daydream of a serene existence where he could slumber undisturbed until a child with his own hair and eyes rudely awakened him with a plea. Occupying himself throughout the day with the babbling, disorder, and vexation of children—yet, by the deities, it was an exasperation he would never wish to dispel. The unending juvenile needs, the perpetual reliance on him, and the nerve-wracking moments at feasts while they scampered off to play.

Following his duties diligently, he would eventually retreat to his private chambers. Ensuring everyone was settled for the night with a reassuring word of meeting again in the following morn. Upon entering his chambers, a heavy sigh would escape his lips as he sank into a luxurious bath, losing track of time. With damp hair cascading and hovering over his shoulders, he would leisurely make his way to his opulent bed, where the familiar chuckle he cherished would resonate as the mattress welcomed his presence.

Subsequently, he would raise his gaze. He would lift his eyes and with mesmerizing violet eyes, he would behold her. He would behold her all the time; as he looked upon his children and he would behold her when he desires to, referring to her as his beloved spouse. His wife. This was the aspiration of Aegon. This was what would elevate Aegon to a higher state of being.

"Aegon?" Her voice interrupted his reverie, yet the tenderness with which she uttered his name mirrored the way she did in his dreams. Aegon dismissed her with a shake of his head, "Let it go. Dreams are not meant for rulers," he chuckled, aware of the ambiguity in his words. Drawing closer to him, she insisted, "But they are. Kings possess the power to obtain anything they desire. That is the essence of royalty— turning fantasies into reality," her voice carried a sense of urgency, imploring him to fulfill the desires of a King for Aegon.

He was immediately persuaded. He entwined his fingers in her luscious dark locks and shut his eyes, savoring the flavor of her lips reminiscent of the sweetness described in the romantic High Valeryan poetry. As he gazed into her eyes after pulling away, he made a firm decision.

Aegon made the bold choice to embrace both roles. Despite the hardships that came with being King, he knew it was the only path to winning her heart. To having her be his.

And Aegon II Targaryen might get burnt for this, the Septa might judge him and the Gods might haunt him but he will be damned if he did not choose her when she was right there.

masterlist.

[luxthestrange]

WHB Incorrect quotes#24 AL HAIL MC

Mc*Ontop the roof of the house of house roof* When I was told I needed to work 9 to 5 I thought that was the hours not how many jobs I needed to work to make a living!*Is covered in a blanket*

Sitri*Looking up at them trying to get you down* We shouldn't make jokes! Belial 'died' today

Mc: Aw great! another person living my dream!

Leraye*Also there for support, being the softer negotiator to Sitri lectures*Mc I wouldn't use the word 'Living'~...*Sweat drops holding a tray of one of his headless teddies to bring you down*

Satan: Why is it you buy one mental illness and get seven free!?*Is already climbing the building to get you down*

Mc: What do you mean this mental all this was a family heirloom passed on from generations just like the crown!*Takes out a crown and puts it on head*I may not be the king/queen of the country but I am the king/queen of the depressed mental state!

Gehenna Demons: MC!?!-

Mc: IT'S YOUR MAJESTY!!!*is about to crawl in the window where Paimon has been recording you 'torturing' the others, where he greets you, With arms in the open for hugs*

[pluralzalpha]

From the BBC Mediacentre:

"Juno Dawson is a #1 Sunday Times best-selling novelist, screenwriter and journalist, whose books include the global bestsellers, This Book is Gay and Her Majesty’s Royal Coven. Her debut short film was The Birth of Venus and she created the first official Doctor Who scripted podcast, Doctor Who: Redacted.

Juno says: “I started watching Doctor Who with my grandma when I was ten-years-old in the 1990s. From writing fan-fiction for an audience of one, to scripting the best TV show of all time is truly a dream come true. I can't wait for fans and newcomers to see the new season.”

Inua Ellams is a writer and curator, whose published books of poetry include Candy Coated Unicorns & Converse All Stars and The Actual. His first play, The 14th Tale, was awarded a Fringe First at the Edinburgh International Theatre Festival, and other plays include Barber Shop Chronicles, which played at the National Theatre, Three Sisters and The Half-God of Rainfall.

Inua says: “For as long as I can remember television, I've been a Doctor Who fan. I started watching when I was 10 in Nigeria. The show invited me to dream, to live beyond my reality. Getting to write for the show felt like touching God; it was blasphemously humbling and exciting, and I can’t wait to share my story with the world.”

Pete McTighe is a writer and Executive Producer on the forthcoming spin-off The War Between The Land And The Sea. He has created, written or Exec'd dramas including The Pact (BBC), The Rising (Sky), A Discovery Of Witches (HBO), and Wentworth (Fox).

Pete says: “The TARDIS is my home away from home, so it's been a joy to step back inside, with Russell at the console and the incredible team at Bad Wolf hanging on for dear life. I love this show with all my heart, and am really proud of what we've been able to achieve with my next episode.”

Sharma Angel-Walfall originally hails from Manchester and won the inaugural Channel 4 New Writing Award that set her off on her screenwriting journey. She has been in a number of writers’ rooms, including Rapman’s Supacell (Netflix), Sally Wainwright's The Ballad of Renegade Nell (Disney+), A Town Called Malice (Sky) and Noughts & Crosses (BBC). She was a writing consultant on Paul Abbott’s Wolfe (Sky) and wrote an episode of Sharon Hogan’s Dreamland for Sky (starring Lilly Allen and Freema Agyeman).

Sharma says: “I am buzzing to be a part of such an iconic show! I am a massive Russell T Davies fan, so it is a dream come true to be able to work alongside him, especially on a show that I love. It’s a real privilege to be a part of the Doctor Who family. I have loved every minute!”

Russell T Davies, Showrunner says: “Doctor Who takes its talent from a glittering galaxy of names, and these extraordinary writers span the skies. We’ve got old hands, new stars, voices from theatre, radio and literature, the whole works! It’s the most wild and exciting season of Doctor Who yet, and I can’t wait to unleash their brilliant work.”

Good to see some more varied voices on the show again.

[talonabraxas]

RA ∆.∆∆ Talon Abraxas

A HYMN TO RA, WHEN HE RISES IN THE EAST.

Hail, thou Aten, thou lord of rays, who risest on the horizon day by day! Shine thou with thy beams of light upon the face of the Osiris Ani, the truth-speaker, who sings hymns to thee at dawn, and adores thee at eventide. Let his soul appear with thee in heaven. Let him sail out in the Matet Boat and arrive in port in the Seqtet Boat, and let him cleave his way among the stars that never vanish.

Homage to thee, O Her-aakhuti, who art Khepera, the self-created!

When thou risest and sendest forth thy beams upon the lands of the South and the North, thou art beautiful, yea beautiful, and all the gods rejoice when they see thee, the King of Heaven.

Nebt-Unnut (a goddess) is on thy head, her serpents are on thy head, and she takes her place before thee. Thoth stands in the bows of thy boat to destroy thy foes.

The denizens of the Tuat (Underworld) come to meet thee, they bow before thee in homage at the sight of thy Beautiful Form.

I would come before thee daily to be with thee and to behold thy Beautiful Aten (Disk). Let me be neither prevented nor repulsed.

Grant that when I look upon thy beauties my members may be made young again, even as are the members of thy favoured ones.

I am one who worshipped thee on earth. Let me enter the Eternal Land in the Everlasting Country. O my Lord, I beseech thee to decree this for me.

Homage to thee who risest as Ra on thy horizon and restest upon Maat!

Thou passest over the sky, every face watches thy course, thou thyself being unseen. Thou showest thyself at dawn and at eve daily.

The Seqtet Boat of thy Majesty goes forth mightily, thy beams fall upon every face, thy variegated lights and colours cannot be numbered, and cannot be told . . . .

One by thyself alone didst thou come into being from the primeval waters of Nunu (or Nu).

May I go forward as thou dost advance without pause, and dost in a moment pass over untold leagues and as thou sinkest to rest even so may I.

Thou art crowned with the majesty of thy beauties, thou dost fashion thy members as thou dost advance, and dost produce them without the pangs of labour in the form of Ra, and dost rise up into the heights.

Grant that I may come into the everlasting heaven and the mountain where thy favoured ones dwell. Let me join myself to those who are holy and perfect in the divine Underworld, and let me appear with them to behold thy beauties at eventide. I lift my hands to thee in adoration when thou the living One dost set. Thou art the Eternal Creator and art adored at thy setting in heaven.

I have given my heart to thee without wavering, O thou who art the mightiest of the gods . . .

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader/OC, No Y/N, Politicking, Hail Kastovia!, We are learning to communicate, Soap is a good boy, canon typical violence, Konig (derogatory)

~5.2k words - MDNI

"Hello, princess," Kate says. She's using that dry, guarded tone that she used to use, before you got comfortable with each other. It's like you're strangers again, and not women that spent the past six years living under the same roof. It makes your heart ache— She's family. Really your only family, even if you have no shared blood.

She's wearing a dark cloak with embroidery of dark, nearly invisible ravens and bright stars around the hood and hem, a midwinter gift from you and her wife, that you spent weeks working on. You can see the top edge of the thick woolen socks that you knit her over the edge of her boots. You'd mended and reinforced the pockets on her trousers countless times. Kate was always hard on her clothes. You used to tease her about it when she'd come to you, sheepishly bearing a torn out pocket or a ripped seam. She always made up some silly story about how it had happened, just to make you laugh.

But she stands in front of you as the Watcher, the spymaster, and not as your Aunt Katie, and you don't care for it one bit.

She tenses when you stride across the room to her, but relaxes when you throw your arms around her tightly. "I missed you," you say softly. "I wish you'd told me what was going on."

"I know, honey. I thought I'd have more time. John promised not to interfere with you so long as you didn't interfere with him or his men. He's never broken his word before."

"He still hasn't," you admit. "It was my fault. A bird flew up and startled sir Garrick's horse, and I chased after. He was sleeping by the road, and…" you trail off, realizing what had really happened. It was too easy to forget that Kyle had a knack for illusion. He'd spooked the horse on purpose. "Well, he tricked me, and I fell for it."

Kate huffed out a laugh. "I should have been more careful with my phrasing. John is far too good at twisting things to his advantage."

You hum in agreement, turning towards the door when you hear a sharp knock. It opens before you can say anything, but it's just Farah, and not one of the men.

"Commander Karim," Kate says. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Watcher," Farah responds, nodding politely. "I owe you a favour for the intel one of your ravens gave me a few weeks ago. Saved my men from walking into an ambush."

"No favour necessary. You actually helped me clean up a mess that same day." Kate smiles wolfishly. "My raven caught his mark when they turned tail to run."

Farah nods. “Then it seems we help each other.”

The two of them talk while you get ready, and flank you as you make your way down to the appropriate parlour, although Kate gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off down the hall rather than follow you into the room like Farah does.

That’s always been her way. You’re sure you’ll see her later.

The Kastovian ambassador sits in a a chair by the window, dressed in a dark red suit. He smiles and stands whn you enter the room, Kate and Farah a step behind you. “Princess!” he says warmly, hands outstretched. “You are more radiant than I imagined you would be. It is not fair that John has been hiding you away all this time.” He pulls you close when he takes your hands, and kisses you on each cheek, closer to your mouth than is necessary.

“It was my choice to remain out of sight. I feared my presence would be a distraction from John’s work. I worried hat I would be as well loved as my father.” You smile, and sit next do John. “It seemed I did not need to fear so.”

“Of course not! Your father was a wicked man. You were not the one waging wars, your majesty. You were just a girl,” Nikolai continues. “And no you are a beautiful woman. Your kind heart is evident.”

“Beauty has little to do with kindness.”

Nikolai grins. “No. Or I would be a much better man than I am.” He settles back in his chair and picks up his wine glass. He raises it, looking at you over the rim, dark eyes glimmering. “To beauty and kindness.”

John hands you a wine glass, and you raise it in response. “To good sense and diplomacy.”

John hums next to you, pleased with how you’re handling the ambassador, by your guess. He levels an unimpressed look at Nikolai. “Are you satisfied?”

“No, it’s much too soon. I will let you know when I am satisfied, your lordship. It will not be until I speak to her majesty alone.” His mismatch of your titles is clearly intentional, meant to rile John up, make him commit a mistake. “But I do hope to be fed first, or I will try to eat you up, majesty. I’m afraid I have a weakness for beautiful women such as you.”

You steal a glance at Ghost, at the war mask, the visage of a skull glaring at the ambassador. You prefer the blank fencers mask, but you can see his eyes like this, deep brown, pale lashes catching the light. Farah stands next to him, almost comically small in comparison. By the forward tilt of the mask, Ghost isn’t pleased with the ambassadors tone, and Farah’s disdain is clear. Both of them have their hands braced on their belts. It was probably a good idea to have them remove their swords before entering the room, although you suspect that each of them is still armed to the teeth.

The man standing behnd Nikolai’s chair is similarly braced. He’s huge, taller even than Ghost, though not quite as broad, and masked as well, with something that looks like an executioner’s hood. The cold gleam of his eyes makes you shudder, until a wet nose pushes under your palm. You relax a bit, petting your hand over Soap’s fuzzy head, glad for the reassurance.

“I trust your journey was an easy on,” you say, changing the subject from how edible you look. “You arrived quite quickly.”

“Luckily, I was already on my way. Your cousin sends his regards, majesty. He is disappointed that he cannot be here himself.” Nikolai eyes Soap suspiciously, but says nothing.

“If he were so concerned, why did he never inquire after her?” John asks. “So many years with no mention.”

“Perhaps he was concerned that a mention of her would have you expanding your search,” Nikolai suggested. “He could not not be certain that she could be safe with you either.”

“As you can see, I’m quite safe, thank you,” you say pleasantly. “John allowed me time in the country to recover from the stress of the war. It was very kind of him.” You smile at John, warning him to behave himself. It would do no one any good for him to scrap with the ambassador. “It was good for me.”

“Clearly. You were too thin before. Listless. And now you’re vibrant and lovely. It is heartening to see.” Nikolai continued to smile, not once dropping his friendly mask. “Of course, you were little more than a child when last we met. Perhaps you do not remember me.”

Did you recall? Of course you remembered being trotted out during the many failed bids for peace between your homeland and Kastovia. Nikolai wasn’t just any ambassador, he was a prince, one of the younger ones. Not likely to ever take the Kastovian throne himself, unless his brother and grown-up nieces and nephews were all to perish. Not likely, unless foul play was involved. It was understandable, why he was so interested in securing an alliance through marriage to you, even though during those talks you had only been fifteen, and still too young to marry. It would have been a long engagement, but peace fell apart long before you turned eighteen, blessedly, or you would have been married to him, probably with a few children by now.

Nikolai seemed a pleasant enough sort of man, but there was something calculating in his eyes, like he was mentally tallying what everyone in the room was worth to him. You’re not sure you’d care for a husband who kept such a close eye on his ledgers.

“I remember.” You give Soap another scratch behind the ears, glad to have the comforting weight of his big head on your knee. “Strange to think of what could have been.”

“If I’d known you would grow into such a beauty, I would have worked harder to negotiate peace.” Nikolai looks at John as he says that, but his eyes flicker back to you quickly. “I suspect you will make a pretty bride.”

“I certainly hope so,” you say blithely. “Now, why don’t we move to the dining room? I’m sure you’re very hungry, after so much travel.”

“Starving,” he says.

Farah makes a scoffing noise behind you, but manages not to say whatever scalding thing comes to mind. You make a mental note to thank her for her restraint later. She told you already that she has no love for Kastovians, but she’s kept a cool head. Certainly a cooler head than John, who looks ruffled.

Both he and Nikolai offer you an arm to escort you to the dining room, but you tuck your hand into the crook of Nikolai’s arm, since he’s the guest. John’s frown deepens, but it’s not your job to manage a grown man’s emotional state. He’s a king, and it’s up to him to act like it.

There’s a certain tesnion in the air over dinner, summering under the light conversation. Nikolai takes a perverse sort of delight in saying things that are polite on the surface, and insulting if you think about them for more than a minute, although he directs all of these hidden barbs at John. To you he’s entirely charming, his dark eyes laughing whenever John leans in to speak to you quietly. It would be funny to watch the two of them have their polite little battle, if you were not the object that they both seemed to covet.

John’s possessive little displays are nothing if not an annoyance. You look forward to leaving again, and going home, back to your cozy room in Kate’s house, back to your chickens and your village and your routines. You’ll miss Kyle and Ghost and Johnny, but you’re sure they’ll visit if you ask. Ghost might even go back to his double life as a blacksmith, and you can pretend you never sussed him out, and actually talk to him, rather than just exchange the odd glance now and again. John will be much less free to make little visits to unimportant former princesses, and probably busy finding himself a suitable wife to mother his children and secure his bloodline.

Finally, dinner ends without anyone losing their temper, and the others retreat to the green parlour as you escort Nikolai to the next room. Farah and Soap stay by your side, although Nikolai’s own guard is dismissed.

“I had hoped to speak with you privately,” Nikolai says, raising his eyebrows at Farah pointedly.

“Commander Karim is my personal guard, as well as my friend. She would soon know anything you had to say to me regardless, so if you cannot say what you wish to in front of her, consider holding your tongue.” You sit, and Soap settles himself at your feet, the very picture of a loyal hound. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“You should take me as your husband. Forget whatever deals you have made with John. Forget that idiot cousin of yours. I know wha it means to rule. You would not have to worry about any more wars with my people, or anything at all. I would gladly lift all burdens from your lovely shoulders.” He makes his bid standing before you, keeping a safe distance, wary of Soap’s sharp teeth. “I would treat you well, your majesty. Like you deserve.”

You sit back in the chair, eyes half lidded, giving no emotion away, although you almost wish to laugh at the audacity. “Is that all?” you ask mildly.

“Would you like more?” he asks. “Favourable trade agreements, perhaps, or land? My own lands lay just across the border, I could cede them to you. Name your desire, my lady, and you can have it.”

“I desire nothing that you could give me, except to deliver my sincere wishes that my dear cousin sets aside his ambition for the throne. John has made a fine king for these past few years, and I hope he continues to be for many more.” You smile, all polite restraint still. “Is there anything else that you wish to say?”

Nikolai looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly, his calculation of you changing somewhat. He’s not pleased by your refusal to even entertain his offer, but not surprised either. “Such loyalty, despite what he did to your father. How has he earned such devotion?”

“By being a good man, and improving the lot of my people. There is nothing else I need from him.”

Nikolai nods. “I see.”

“I hope you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with Commander Karim. I believe the others have returned to the green parlour, if you’d like to rejoin them.”

He doesn’t balk at the dismissal either, just gives a shallow bow and leaves.

“That was the right response,” Farah says approvingly. “If he though there was even a chance to gain your hand he would spend the rest of the evening behaving very badly. It would not look good if John or Ghost hits him.”

Soap gets up from his spot on the floor and trots behind a chair, the bone crunching sound of his transition filling the room for a moment. “Sweetpea,” he says, his fingers gripping the upholstery nervously. “I think there’s somethin’ you should know.”

“What it it?” you ask.

He swallows hard, blue eyes darting between you and the door. “John intends to marry ye tomorrow. He figured if he manuevered things just so hat you wouldn’t be able to refuse him, but I think you ought tae know.”

Farah goes extremely still, her eyebrows snapping together with an almost audible click. “He didn’t tell you?”

You drop your head into your hands, trying to control the spike of anger. “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” you say. “I am going to murder that man.”

“I will assist,” Farah promises.

“I am sorry I didnae say somethin’ earlier,” Johnny says, shoulders raised defensively, as though he still expects that you might shout at him. “I shoulda. S’just— It’s Price. He’s been good tae me. But yer so sweet, and you deserved tae know.” He looks a bit green from betraying his friend’s trust, but relieved too. It must have been weighing heavy on his mind.

You stand, and walk over to him, cupping his face gently between your palms. “Thank you for telling me.” Impulsively, you press a kiss to his mouth, not expecting the enthusiastic response. He pulls you closer, arms sliding around your back, his tongue lapping across your lips. He kisses messily, without much finesse, but it’ sweet, in it’s own way, how excited he is about it.

Your hands skirt down the tops of his arms, finding the raised edges of scarring you hadn’t noticed under all his freckles. Bumpy, textured skin, like there was sand trapped under the surface. In his wolf form he has bluish grey patches here, and running down his spine and legs. Did the pattern follow the scarring? Or was it just coincidence?

“No kiss for me?” Farah asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice even before you release Johnny and turn around.

“Would you like a kiss, Farah?” you ask.

“Maybe,” she says non-commitally. “Later, perhaps. Do you want to rejoin the others?”

You shake your head. “No, would you mind letting John know that I’m turning in early? Since tomorrow will be such a busy day.”

Farah levels another one of her impressive frowns at you. “I don’t want to leave you alone while those barbarians are here.”

“Johnny will come with me. And he’ll stat with me tonight?” You glance at him for confirmation. “So you can take some time for yourself, Farah. He’ll keep me safe.”

“He had better. I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” She gives Johnny a stern look before she nods to you and leaves the room.

It takes a moment for Johnny to shift back into a wolf, but you step out into the hallway as soon as he does, resting a hand on his head as he trots beside you, tail wagging. You’re quiet, not just because your companion can’t speak, but because you have a lot to mull over. The initial anger has subsided into resignation. You should have known that Price would hear only I’ll support you in any way you need and not your refusal to become his wife. He really is the most infuriating man you’ve ever met in your life.

You are disappointed in Kyle and Ghost as well, but you suspect that Kyle had been about to tell you when the ambassador arrived and John called you down.

The two of them are waiting outside your room, however, with sober, contrite expressions. Well, Kyle, anyway, but here’s an unease to Ghost’s posture that communicates that he feels much the same way, his shoulders tense and head hung low, like a dog waiting for a beating.

“Johnny told me,” you say, because there can be no other reason for their guilt.

The twin exhales of breath almost make you laugh. “We should’ve told you right off,” Ghost says. “Didn’t want to go against John, but—”

“It’s alright, I understand.” And you do, if you’re being honest. It would be foolish to expect them to take your side right away. That they are now still means something. “Do you think I should go through with it?”

Soap wuffs, and Kyle and Ghost look at each other.

“Yeah, we do,” Kyle says.

You regard them for a long moment, and then open your door. “Come in, please.” They follow, and you close the door behind them. The dress sits on a form by your closet, dark green and beautifl. The cream embroidery makes sense now, you can feel the prickle of magic lingering on the weave. You dispell it with a thought, and the illusion melts away, leaving a white gown behind.

“That’s that then.” You sit on th edge of the bed with a sigh. Soap hops up and curls around your back, and Kyle and Ghost settle on each side of you. “I’m going to be queen after all.”

“You’ll be good at it,” Ghost assures you. “You’re smart.”

“And kind. Well reasoned. You care about people, understand them better than John does,” Kyle continues, taking one of your hands, tracing a finger over your knuckles idly. “I think the people need you. Should’ve heard how excited Rosie was about you comin’ back.”

“I haven’t earned that,” you protest. “I haven’t done anything foranyone yet. I have no idea how—” You stop yourself short. Of course you have an idea of what to do. The entirety of your childhood was spent dedicated to learning everything there was to know about being queen. It’s been your destiny before you understood what fate meant.

Everything you learned has just been shoved aside, locked away. It’s time to remember, and accept your role. It’s all a part of you, the good and the bad.

Even the crown.

“Thank you for telling me, even if it does come a little late.” You squeeze Kyle’s hand and pat Ghost on the knee. “I do hope you’ll be more forthright in the future.”

“We’ll ‘ave t’be,” Ghost says. “Can’t be lyin’ to the queen now can we? Not even if John tells us to.”

“Certainly not,” Kyle agrees. “Now, do you want your hair braided for tomorrow? I’m sorry— About yesterday, I—”

“Consider it forgiven. Just don’t do it again!”

You do accept the help with your braids, focusing on sectioning and braiding thr front while Kyle works from the back, summoning a pair of hands that mirror his movements neatly. Ghost and Johnny sit close, watching with curious eyes.

It takes a while— You’re not sure how long— and you’re yawning by the time you’re through. Soap has his head leaned on Ghost’s thigh, half asleep. Ghost hasn’t moved since he settled there, still as a statue. You thank Kyle for his help. You’re not sure that your curls would be in good shape if you left them loose another night.

You stop Ghost when he says goodnight, tugging at his sleeve before he opens the door to leave. “I’ve kissed Kyle and Johnny,” you admit. “And John. Would you like a kiss too? It only seems fair, since I won’t be able to do it again when I’m married.”

“Close your eyes for me,” he says, and you do immediately, your face tipped upwards. You hear the shift of fabric, and then his fingers brush your jaw, so gently, holding you still as he leans in.

His kiss is almost unbearably sweet, soft and gentle, no push to deepen the kiss until you pitch up onto your toes to press closer, hands gripping his shirt. You can feel the scrape of stubble on your chin, smell smoke and cedar on his skin. There’s a slight dip on his upper lip, a scar that hadn’t been visible at dinner the first night, with you seated on his other side. You hum, touching the spot with your tongue. He growls in response, crushing you closer for just a moment before he lets you go.

You wait until he says you can open your eyes before you do. The skull mask lets you see his eyes properly, and there’s fondness shining out from them as he looks at you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he says softly.

You catch his arm again. “Will you walk me down the aisle?” you ask. “It’s fine if you’d rather not, but you’ve been my guardian for a long time. Kate’s the only other person who would do, and she hates being in the centre of things.”

His eyes crease with a smile. “I’d be honoured.”

Soap stays underfoot while you get ready for bed, until you shoo him out of the bathroom so you can change into your nightgown. He whines outside the door, which makes you laugh. “Just a moment, you silly boy,” you scold him. “I’m not letting you see me undressed again.”

He sighs audibly, and there’s a thump as he flops onto the floor.

The two of you settle into bed shortly after, and you fall asleep quickly, arms curled around his neck.

A few hours later, the door to the balcony opens, so quietly that you might not have fully noticed it if not for the way Soap tenses, silently wiggling free of your arms.You squint into the darkness, but there’s not enough light for you to see anything.

“I’m going to turn on the light,” you breathe, barely putting any power behind the words, trusting Soap’s canine ears to pick up what you say. “Close your eyes so it doesn’t blind you. In one, two three!” You reach over and tap the lamp, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden glare as you tip yourself off the bed and onto the floor.

You hear muffled swearing, and peek over the edge of the bed as Soap launches himself at Nikolai’s giant, masked bodyguard, teeth bared in a terrible snarl.

You scramble up and run for the door. “John!” you shout, and then turn to help Soap, although you’re no fighter. You couldn’t just leave him to deal with the man alone.

Soap is growling fiercely, his teeth sunk deep into the man’s arm, but the giant has a knife in his other hand, already slick with blood. Soap’s fur is matted down around his ribs, stained rusty red.

You grab the giant’s other arm and hold on tight, digging in your heels to keep him from stabbing Soap again. He shakes him loose instead, throwing him by the scruff into the bookcase, breaking shelves with a splintery crash. He jerks his arm to shake you loose as well, and backhands you, sending you stumbling backward.

You catch a glimpse of blood-shot, malicious blue eyes through the holes in the giant’s mask, and then a huge hand grips you by the throat, cutting off your air. He raises the knife.

A dark shape hurtles into the room, and the giant lets you go with a pained shout. You land hard, breathless, and John grabs you, hauling you up and putting his broad body between you and the grisly scene that is surely unfolding behind him. The sound of a knife cutting into flesh, over and over and over, the giant begging for mercy until he fell silent.

It’s awful. Your stomach churns, but you manage to not throw up.

“Sweetpea, are you alright?” John asks, pulling your attention back to him, gripping your shoulders just a little too hard when you try to look around him again.

“I’m fine— Soap’s hurt.” You look for him and find him right where he’d been thrown, although he’s staggering up onto his paws now, blue eyes unfocused, blood still oozing from the wounds on his side. Shaking loose from John, you rush to his side, throwing your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his fur. He leans into you, somehow managing to lick your ear.

John kneels down beside you and places a hand on Soap’s flank. Blue light flares between his palm and Soap’s injury. “There we go. Good boy,” he says softly, patting Soap on the head as he stood up again. “Kept our girl safe.”

There’s a commotion in the hallway now, guards and servants and Kyle pushing their way into the room. You sneak a glance at Ghost. There’s a slash through his shirt-sleeve, and a cut dripping blood onto the floor, but he seems unhurt otherwise. The giant however— You take one look at the spreading pool of blood and the mess of blood and bone and press your face back into Soap’s ruff, shaking.

John picks you up and carries you across the hall to his study so that the guards can get into your room to deal with the body. You look at Ghost over John’s shoulder. “You’re hurt. Let John heal you.”

He shakes his head. “Waste of magic. I’ll be fine.”

“Will you let me clean it up at least?” you ask. “I don’t want it to get infected.”

He huffs. “Fine.”

John sets you down, but your legs don’t feel steady yet. You lean into him for support, glad for the warm, solid bulk of him. He holds you until you stop shaking, barking orders over your head.

You press your face into John’s shirt when Soap shifts back into Johnny, the sound of bone crunching and tendons snapping a bit too similar to the sound of Ghost turning the giant into a bloody mess. There’s some kerfuffle as someone brings tea and supplies for you to clean Ghost’s wound, and John finally lets you go so you can get to work.

You focus on washing away the blood and dabbing stinging antiseptic onto the cut as Knight Captain Keller steps into the study to report. “We’ve had the ambassador confined to his quarters,” he says. “You may question him at your leisure. Gaz is laying wards on the room to keep him from working some nasty Kastovian magics. Should I arrange extra security for the ceremony tomorrow? Or do you think it best to postpone.”

“Extra security. Thank you, captain. Did the giant survive?”

Alex snorts, and then glances at you, his expression a hair guilty. “Um, no sir. I doubt his own mother would recognize him now.”

Ghost flexes his hands. His knuckles are bloody, so you clean up that blood too. Once the door shuts behind the knight captain, he takes his shirt off to make it easier for you to bandage his arm. You try to keep your eyes from wandering over all his pale, marred skin. There’s so many scars that you can hardly bear to think of how much violence he’s endured.

“I don’t think Nikolai was behind this,” you say, glancing at John as he sits heavily in his chair, running a hand over his beard tiredly. “He has nothing to gain by killing me. I don’t believe he’s any great champion of my cousin’s.”

“Why do you say that?” John asks.

“He proposed to me earlier, and called Phillip an idiot— And with lands along the border, he would put his own territory at risk if there is another war. It’s more likely that the assassin was paid directly by my dear cousin.” You wind a length of clean linen around Ghost’s bicep, tying it tight.

“He proposed?” John asked, focusing on the wrong part of your words.

“Yes, but—”

“What did you say?”

You consider telling him that you know what he plans, but there’s something satisfying about making him sweat a little bit. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

“I beg to differ. I’d like to know all the same.”

You meet his eyes evenly. “I turned him down.”

John takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, looking relieved. “Good.”

Johnny huffs, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He looks worn out, the toll of shifting back and forth and his injury leaving him exhausted. He’s eaten everything on the plate someone brought up, leaving only crumbs.

You’re tired too. The shakes have finally subsided, leaving you with nothing, a candle burnt down to sputtering wax. “I’d like to go back to bed. I don’t suppose I can go back to my own room yet?”

John shakes his head. “It’ll take a little while to clean up. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll be up a while yet, I’ll find somewhere else for the night.”

You nod, and glance at Johnny. “Will you come with me?”

He nods, gulping down the last of his cup of tea. “Aye. Keep ye safe if anyone else tries anythin’ foolish.” He folds himself back into wolf shape while you say goodnight to John and Ghost.

They bid you goodnight as well, although there is some envy in their eyes as they watch you slip through the door into John’s room, Soap by your side.

Soap sniffs around the new space suspiciously, and only settles into the bed beside you once he’s satisfied that there’s nothing amiss, laying his head across your stomach, ears perked up, flicking around at every little noise. You tap the lamp and close your eyes, comforted by his vigilance and warm weight and the pillow that smells like John, warm spice and tobacco smoke.

You try not to think about anything else.

I'm so sorry this took 9 million years to post, I wrote it by hand in July and just did not type it. But the good news is that Chapter 6 is also written and I am dedicated to getting it done so expect that before the end of the month. I love you all, thank you so much for your patience.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[blues824]

26 and 29 WITH LILIA PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THE SEVEN I NEED HIM TO HOLD ME AND TELL ME EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY EVEN THOUGH THE CONTINOUS FLOW OF TIME IS SCARY AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN

(I am not okay. I am humbling requesting comfort fluff with peepaw. Please and thank you, your majesty.... All hail the fanfic writers during a monthly prompt 🫶🫰🙏🛐🙌🦐)

You requested: Cuddling next to the fire + Holiday blues

In Google Docs, I title the Holiday Blue fics “Holiday *Blues*”... because of my name lol.

Lilia Vanrouge

He could sense the burden that this season had on you. Why it was hard for you, he didn’t know. And he wasn’t going to pry into your personal matters because they were just that: personal. If you didn’t want to tell him yet, he wasn’t going to force you to.

However, that was not going to stop him from trying his best to make you feel better. He made sure to reach out in case you needed help with any history assignments, as that was his best subject. He would also help with other subjects, trying to lessen the load. However, you were starting to get annoyed.

You eventually blew up, yelling at him to leave you alone as you slammed the door to Ramshackle. Lilia decided it would be best if you had a few moments to yourself, and he told you to text him or call him when you were ready to speak with him. With that said, he went back to Diasomnia so that he wouldn’t be stuck in the snow.

It wasn’t too long later, maybe a couple of hours, where you texted him to come back over to Ramshackle. When he knocked on your door, you were in tears as you apologized for shouting at him, saying he didn’t deserve it. He never took offense to your harsh words, as there have been many times where the Prince, Silver, or Sebek have said much harsher things to him as they were growing up.

Anyway, you invited him inside, and he noticed that there was no fire, and you were probably freezing cold. Holding your hand in his, he confirmed his thoughts, and so he started building a fire in the fireplace. Luckily for the both of you, Grim had the makings of a pyromaniac with his fire magic, so all he needed was to place the logs in the fireplace.

Almost immediately the room started to get warmer. Lilia told you to sit down on the couch so that you may warm up, and he gathered all of the blankets around the dorm, the clean ones at least, and threw them all on you. Then, he joined you on the couch. This was a bit of a tactic he picked up when he raised the two boys (and often visited the third), especially when they were angry at him or themselves.

A moment of silence fell over you two, until you crawled over and laid your upper body on his lap. Tears were streaming down your face as you silently weeped, and he just held you, running his hands through your hair and whispering sweet nothings to you. You stayed like that until you drifted off and fell asleep.

[kiwiplaetzchen]

Conquered by the Teal King! Felt inspired by this piece 🎄👑 hope you have a lovely rest of the year and all hail Nosy!

The Christmas tree swayed slightly under the enthusiastic climbing of the gleaming teal menace perched atop its highest branch, but the little Niffler paid no mind. His belly pouch was stuffed to bursting with baubles, tinsel clung to him like a cape, and his teal fur twinkled with an almost angelic glow, though the mischievous grin splitting his beak suggested anything but heavenly intentions.

His chest puffed out with pride as he raised his little arms in triumph, basking in his own magnificence. Then, with all the majesty he could muster, Nosy threw his head back and let out the loudest honk he could manage. The sound echoed through the castle halls, startling owls and shaking dust from ancient rafters. Wiggling his tail in delight, he sent a final spray of glitter through the air.

This, Nosy thought with a smug look, is what Christmas was meant to look like.

Pure chaos! Pure glory! Pure Nosy!

[natp20]

all hail his majesty, the Grand Poobah de Doink of All of This and That

[unknowinglymystery]

The Bat family are the ruler of the furries

The furry people are ruled by furry monarchy aka the Bat family

Bruce is king of the furries with an furry army of birds and bats

Batman the king 👑 of the furries with his own furry army of birds and bats

All hail his majesty the king Batman of the furries and his army of birds and bats may he lead us to victory

His on again- off again girlfriend Selina Kyle

catwoman Duchess of East of furries and hopefully future Queen Consort of the furries

All hail her grace duchess Catwoman of the East my she marry the king and stop her crimes

His heir Richard Grayson

Nightwing heir and crown prince of the furrie

all hail his royal highness crown prince Nightwing heir to the throne of the furries may his future reign bring us a golden age

His second son Jason Todd

Redhood second prince of furries , Duke of crime alley and a hunter

All hail his grace Duke Redhood of Crime alley make sure not to do a crime in his eyes or you might not live to see another day or mess with his land

His third son Tim Drake

Red Robin third prince of the furries and certified stalker

All hail his royal highness prince Red Robin of furries and make sure to beware to catch his eye unless you want to be stalked by him

His fourth son Duke Thomas

Signal fourth prince of the furries and nightlight

All hail his royal highness Prince Signal of the furries and the shining light that lights our way in the darkness of the night

His fifth son Damian Wayne

Robin fifth prince of furries, the only blood son of Batman and future doctor

All hail his royal Highness prince Robin of the furries , blood son of the king and future doctor to heal all our wounds and help this kingdom

His legal daughter Cassandra Cain

Orphan first and only legal princess of the furries and a ninja ballerina

All hail her royal highness princess Orphan of the furries and may her skills defend the innocent and give us the beauty and confidence of her dancing

His emotional adopted daughter Stephanie Brown

Spoiler second princess of the furries and prankster

All hail her royal highness princess Spoiler of the furries beware her tricks

[fandomwe1rd0]

I really admire the way Rick and Morty shows self loathing. It is, no exaggeration, one of, if not the most realistic portrayals of self loathing in fiction that I've ever seen. I deal with incredibly heavy self loathing, there have been times where I cried out of just being so ashamed of myself due to my self loathing. I just fall into a pit of self loathing. But enough about my personal life, you guys aren't here to hear about my depression! You're here to see me overanalyze this old man, which I will happily do!

One thing I really like is how Rick's self-loathing is a consistent character trait that actually affects him as a character. So many media use self-loathing purely as a simple way to make you feel bad for the characters. Which is something I fucking hate. They'll mention one or two throw-away lines, but besides that, that's really it. For Rick, it's consistent. Like for example him not valuing his own life and his risk taking behaviors is tied to his self-loathing. And he has multiple scenes about it. One of my personal favorite being him at the end of the season 4 finale "Holy shit, I'm a terrible father." and the scene at the end of Old Man and the Seat "Enjoy sitting there all by yourself while you sit there and think about how nobody wants to be around you, and how you ruin it for yourself because you're a huge piece of shit! (…) Look at him there, king shit on his throne of lonliness! (…) All hail his Majesty! The saaaaaadest piece of garage in the entire cosmos!" I like this scene aren't overly dramatic. They are shocking realistic. People who self-loath typically do not want to burden other people with it. Seeing themselves as a burden already, and not wanting to put more on the people they love. Having someone who self-loath yell about it randomly to a loved one as a big revalation is simply just unrealistic. So having Rick just solemnly reflect on it alone is just so much better and just much more realistic.

Also! I do appreciate how it doesn't really have an "inner voice" that talks to him. While I understand a lot of people who self-loath have that, for me, it's more so just first person talk, instead of a voice telling me I'm a piece of shit, I'll just think "I'm a piece of shit." so having Rick say stuff like that really make these scenes more realistic to me, and make Rick all the more relatable. I-I'm ok I promise

I absolutely love just the sheer realism of the self-loathing. It could have been done so bad, but they do it in such a heart-wrenching, yet realistic way. I love this show so fucking much-