#not undead

[reipeeeas]

happy ryuseitai climax

[iana-bagryana]

The Emperor.

[lizmamont]

[camelidae]

Somehow he still seems to enjoy basking in the sunlight and the quiet busyness of the birds and butterflies. They say necromancy is a dark art, but whoever reanimated the beast of the black swamp knew what they were doing.

[dungeonmalcontent]

They didn't 'come back wrong' because I legally cannot say that they came back at all. That would imply that what I performed was what is classified in the kingdom as 'healing magic.' What I did was permanently preserve the body using necromancy, reinstitute autonomic functions in the body using some transmutation and evocation to make the organs process and move around blood and oxygen, and then I conjured the soul and sealed it back into the body. And, to be clear, they are not undead. Neither are they immortal. They are very mortal. They're just... Not conventionally "healed" as it were. I'm more of a... Medical cobbler, really. I mean, technically, I'm a cordswainer by trade not a cobbler. I needed to pay the bills since using outright necromancy isn't strictly speaking legal. And, really, what's a person and their body but a shoe with a soul foot in it?

You always wanted to be a Healer. Unfortunately, your dad was an Necromancer and your mother a Demon Summoner. So your healing was a bit… unconventional to say the least.

[nockstormbringer]

yall i am not well. Emotonally. Im currently reading The Tyrants Tomb and-

FRANK MY SONNNNNNN IM SO FUCKING SAD THIS ISNT FAIR

I still got like 5 chapters to go or so, i just got to the part where Diana saves Apollo from being an undead son of a bitch (the bitch being Zeus)

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Thinking about... Grieving the undead.

[hinamie]

trick or treat!

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[shotmrmiller]

doing everything within your power to not get into any more hand to hand practice with simon because he's very very rough with you during them. he doesn't care that he could easily snap you in half like a pencil, "ya oughta learn 'ow to take a man my size down f'good. always be prepared for the worst."

it's terrible. if it wasn't for the fact that you always see johnny limp away after his sparring session while shooting you a grin with pink teeth, you'd think simon has it out for you in particular.

except he doesn't. (or doesn't he?) all those finger shaped bruises on your flesh are all purely for his own benefit. seeing the mottled skin on your neck from where he held on a little too tight, your arms from where he pinned you in place at his utter mercy, the blotches on your legs, where his fingers dug into your inner thighs-

his eyes cross at the thought of eventually being able to leave those same bruises in the exact same spots but with his mouth instead. saliva pools in his mouth when he's got your face pressed firm into the mat, neck bared, a blank canvas for his lips, his teeth.

simon wonders if you'd be ticklish if he were to suckle an ugly bruise right over your racing pulse.

(starved to have you come in his mouth, his tongue flat on your pebbled clit, pulsating, as if it's got a heartbeat of its own.)

for now he watches you receive sympathy pats on your back as it's your turn again, swallowing thickly when he spots fresh bruises on your calves, close to your ankles.

art requires a certain cruelty.

[orionsangel86]

I like the new twist on the bury you gays trope

They are still dead, but we unburied them. Their ghosts are now haunting the narrative forever. Yeah they are still being gay and dramatic but they have eternity to figure it out. Literally can not get rid of these gays now. They don't even have bodies to bury. Can't send em to superhell they'll climb right back out.

[breegadey]

The Main 5 - Ryoko Kui Doodle Book Daydream Hour

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to curse your followers and mutuals.

[victusinveritas]