#Contaminated Queen

[bmn-fandoms]

Enjoy some stills of a horrorbrew I have of a infection style story where Peach is the cattails for the entire castle to get infected with a Hivemind like spore that mimics 1Up Mushrooms.

I refer to her as “Contaminated Princess” , it’s reference is seen down bellow! I am planning it add it to the House of Horrorbrews wiki as well! With all the information about them!

[emacrow]

The cursed book of ensnared Love.

Raven was re-scouting in the hidden gem of a curse shop for a new book as she had been here before to find rare and exotic spell books along with purple candles that smell like Jasmine.

A cashier girl by the name of Sam with a purple and green line in her hair was bored looking.

There was a new display on set where a blue book with a blue ice looking marble encased in the chest art design of a sleeping ice prince in some type of ice cover.

a small green sign saying in purple cursive writing cursed book, please do not touch without gloves on the side, ask Cashier for more.

Raven took a good look at the cursed book, seeing the book holder stand it was on was completely frozen solid in hardening ice.

Raven went over to ask Sam the Cashier about the book, who flicked her purple eyes at her.

Sam draggingly walk around her counter and stand next to the display in a bored dead tone that most cashier working at 3am would sound like.

"Here we have the cursed book of Ensnared Love once belonging to a tragdy royalty known as the Icy Prince of Far frozen. Legend said that Antarctica and Artic were formed by this book once belonging to a Kindly Prince who had the ability to control ice, some say say he even control space itself."

"His kingdom was made of blue ice, yet not a single person froze in this snowy kingdom for as Long as The Ice Prince had his crown and his ring at hand, the cold will never bothered them anyways." Sam said with a twitch of a smile.

"A beloved prince that the people know will be a great king as his older sister denied the crown, but tragedy was foretold as the prince's advisors, elderly older then ancients wanted power believing the prince will bring ruin to the land but only the prince was too strong, foolish kind and witty to beat every impossible challenge put ahead."

"The advisors decision enough was enough as soon as the Ice Prince's 18th birthday was almost here, they had concocted one last plan to entrapped the Prince to take the crown using a forbidden book that can ensnare even the most powerful beings across the realms. They plan successed but not in the way they had thought as they had hoped."

"For the ice prince opened the book, wearing the crown and the ring, chains immediately grappled him, dragging him into the book by force, that not even his greatest most dangerous ice spell could break them. The book closed shut the moment the ice prince was fully trapped inside, only to be frozen shut in the very last spell the ice prince casted alongside its curse that the book could only open by love." Sam spoke a bit more down as she was reenacting the scene as if she had seen it herself.

"The Advisors didn't know what to do, but with the Ice Prince trapped, the cold became unbearable to the people, their very kingdom, became a death sentence as Nobody could withstand the fatal freezing cold anymore. The book couldn't be grabbed unless by solid white fur gloves or if you wished to turn into a solid status of blue ice."

"This accursed book has been passed down from collector to collector as being in it presence sent chills down your spine like a Ghost, it is not for sale unless it is a equal trade for a curse book to a cursed book by the current owner named Tuck'a'man." Sam finished speaking as she mumbled the last bit, walking back to the cashier.

Raven took one good long stare at the book and a memory flash of Malchior in her thought. Her eyes narrowed a bit as she thought about it.

....

...

..

.

Raven left the cursed shop, a floating bag in a shadow sphere followed behind her. A white book with a circle on the old display.

Sam counted to 100 before she smile brightly, bringing her cup of soda upward as she pressed the com in her hair pin.

"Operation hook up a prince phase 3 is a go, Jazz. Do you think this would work?" Sam said, sipping her soda a bit.

"If this doesn't work, then he stuck in that book until we go to the next dimension?"

"Yep, that the plan."

[doctormead]

DP x DC prompt: Beekeeper Danny

Ooookay, Danny has moved to Gotham for <insert reason here> and is faced with a problem. Yes, Gotham has higher levels of ambient ectoplasm than your average city, but it's nowhere near those of Amity Park who has a goddamn artificial hell mouth smack in the center of it. Also, the ectoplasm which IS there is contaminated with some nasty shit that makes Danny feel ill when he takes too much of it in. Having his friends back in Amity Park ship him flasks of pure ecto on the sly is difficult to say the least, so he starts thinking about ways to both concentrate and purify Gotham's ecto so he's not one shipment interruption from being in really bad shape.

He get's his solution from Sam. On his bi-weekly video call with her and Tucker, she gets to ranting about bee conservation. Tucker makes a joking comment about honey being basically bee vomit, and Sam tears into him saying "That is a gross oversimplification at best and outright bee-slander at worst!" This perks Danny's curiosity, so he looks up the biological process by which bees turn nectar into honey...and he's found his answer. Blob ghosts are basically the filter feeders of the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms. If he can get a bunch of them to behave kinda like honey bees, his ecto supply should be assured.

It works...a bit too well...

Now Danny has a swarm of glowing green honey bees that are roughly the size of carpenter bees buzzing happily about him. Their queen is roughly the size of a large hummingbird. He heaves a weary sigh and starts looking up how to ACTUALLY keep bees and making skips out of ghost-friendly material for them to build their hive in on top of his apartment building.

But, won't Danny get complaints from his neighbors? Here's the kicker. Unless you are a 1) ghost, 2) halfa, 3) wearing specialized Fenton Ecto-Visual Goggles or 4) a mage, you cannot see, hear or feel the bees! They're buzzing around Gotham happily, slurping up the ecto to take back to the hive for processing. And they slurp it up from EVERYWHERE...including certain people.

Jason Todd is slightly confused but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Over the last few months, the Pit Rage has been decreasing gradually. He doesn't think much about it until he shows up at the BatCave for an all hands meeting that has been called because John Constantine needed to brief them on something...only for Con-job to take one look at Red Hood and shout that he's "COVERED IN FUCKING BEES!!!"

[bullet-prooflove]

A Cold Day In Hell - Dennis Whitaker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There's a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before…

Pretty Boy (NSFW) - You and Dennis take the next step in your relationship.

Permanent Marker - You find out about the betting pool.

The Porn Boom (NSFW) - Dennis isn't like the other man you've been with.

Wild Flowers - A crown of wildflowers leads you and Dennis to discuss the issues he has with his family.

A Friend of Denny's - Your relationship with Dennis takes a turn when his parents come to town.

It’s been a week since the run in with Dennis’s parents and you’ve still not spoken to him. You won’t take his calls or return his texts, you don’t even look at him when your paths cross in the E.D. It’s like he doesn’t even exist to you.

It’s a shitty feeling, one he absolutely deserves.

“Feels like a cold day in hell Pussycat.” Myrna remarks, wheeling her chair up alongside of him as he watches you and Donnie steer the specialist gurney you use for the deceased towards the elevator. “Whatever you did to Queenie you’d better find a way to fix it.”

Queenie short for Queen of the Damned because of all the dead folks you work with. Myrna has a nickname for almost everyone in the E.D with the exception of Dana who she respects far too much.

Despite being a psych patient she’s right, it’s clear the giving you space approach isn’t working so he’s going to have to tackle the problem head on.

It’s at the end of his shift he takes the elevator down to the subbasement. The air is different down here, chiller. He feels the bite through his jacket as he strides towards the Viewing Room where he knows you’ll be. It’s the last thing you do before you leave, you like to make sure it’s in order for any families that may need to identify their loved ones when the nightshift take over.

Despite the lack of resources they have to contend with in The Pitt, money has been poured into the Viewing Room from the hospital’s charity fund. One of the board members had suffered a death in the family a couple of years ago and was shocked by the dourness of the original facility.

Now it looks like something you’d get in a high end funeral home with a false skylight that portrays a soft white clouds across a crisp blue sky, and warm spotlights that emit a soothing glow throughout the space. The walls are painted a light seafoam grey, instilling a sense of calmness as you sit in one of the plush grey chairs ticking off your checklist.  

“Get out.” You scold him, raising to your feet. “You’re gonna get yourself written up, you know you’re not allowed to be in here.”

The morgue is strictly off limits to any personnel who aren’t assigned to the area, that includes doctors. Part of that is to avoid any cross contamination when it comes to working with the deceased, and the other part is to give the families of the departed a safe space to breathe away from the rest of the hospital.

“I know, I just… it seems like the only place I could actually talk to you.” He says contritely, his hands clasped in front of him as his gaze flickers to the vacant viewing table in the centre of the room.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” You tell him, hugging the tablet to your chest. “We never put a label on what we were doing and you certainly didn’t make me any promises so I guess that means you’re free and clear.”

“Lola…” He begins, his lips pursing together. “I don’t want to be free and clear, I want to be held accountable for my actions because I know how much they hurt you.”

“That sounds like you want me to assuage your guilt.” You point out, your hand coming to rest on your hip. “And I am certainly not going to make you feel less shitty over something that made me feel really fucking shitty.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” He implores, stepping forward into your proximity. “I did a horrible thing to you, I made you feel like less than what you are and that is unforgiveable. You’ve never been just ‘a friend’.” – He does the bunny ears for emphasis – “You’ve always been more, I just couldn’t tell that to my mom because then she’d know…”

He trails off, his gaze lowering to the white sneakers on his feet as he struggles to find the words to give context to the rest of his story.

“Before I came out here I made a plan with my mom, something to help her come to terms with the fact I was moving over a thousand miles away. I was meant to do my time in Med School, get through my clinical rotations and then come home and do my Residency in Internal Medicine where I would live out the rest of my days serving my community, the same way I would have done if I’d become a pastor.” He tells you before he tilts his head up to meet the eyes he’s spent every night wishing he was looking into. “But coming here to PTMC, it changed everything. I found my calling in Emergency Medicine and I found you, this compassionate, wonderful woman who didn’t see me as a farm boy from bumfuck nowhere, who made me laugh on the shittiest fucking days, who stole my heart from right out underneath me before I even realised it was happening...”

He tucks his hands into the back pockets of his pants because the urge to reach out and touch you is becoming unbearable. You're unreadable at the moment, a statue made of the purest marble with an expression that gives away absolutely nothing.

“If I had told my mom what you were to me, she would know that I wasn’t coming home to Nebraska. I wasn’t ready to break her heart but I ended up breaking yours instead and I am deeply sorry for that. I just floundered in that moment because the two women I love most in the world were standing in front of me and I felt like I was at this crossroads caught my past and my future.”

“You made me feel like I was nothing.” You whisper.

It’s the way your voice cracks that breaks his heart, his resolve snaps and he finds himself standing in front of you. His hand raises to cup your face, his thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek as he looks down at you.

“You are not nothing.” He says, his eyes blazing with sincerity. “You are everything to me and I should have told you that. I should have told you that I was staying here in Pittsburgh, that I wanted to make a life with you, a home with you-”

“What does your mom think about all of this?” You interrupt and he deflates then, a sad smile crossing his features as his hand slips away.

“She told me not to let my head get spun by the first pretty young thing that sat in my lap.” He says quietly, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck. The words had stung because it showed that she still didn’t trust him to know his own mind, to make his own decisions even after all this time. “That I should remain focused on our community, on giving back to the people who raised me, who invested in me. She thought I was being selfish and maybe I am but I’ve earned that right to choose how I live my life and who I want to spend it with. She walked out after that. My dad says she just needs some time to adjust but I don’t know, it felt final.”

He's surprised when your hand grasps his. Your palm fits perfectly in his own, your thumb tracing soothing circles along the scar on the back of it. Even now your compassion astounds him, he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve you but here you are, reaching across the void, connecting with him.

“I think before this goes any further that we should talk about what we both want, make sure we’re on the same page before you make a decision about the residency. You have to do it for you, not for me and not for your mom." You say quietly, squeezing his hand gently. "We need to be clear and honest with each other about the future, no matter how much that may hurt.”

Dennis, he already knows what he wants his future to look like, a white picket fence, two rings, first steps. He has no idea where you stand on those things, if that’s something you’d even want but that’s the point you’re making, it’s time to figure it out.

“I think that’s a good idea.” He says, looking down at your joined hands, hope blossoming in his chest. “Let’s do it, let’s talk about our future.”

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[dxrlingluv]

HI OMG YOU WRITE SO BEAUTIFULLY may I request a fic of telemachus? 😛 maybe one in which reader is Antinous's younger sister?🙈

You are different

A/N : This is such a beautiful concept, and thank you, anon, for the compliment. Telemachus art is from duvetbox! (Edit) Also I apologize, because I might not be able to post as much since I don’t have internet connection, but once it’s back I’ll be able to post constantly again.

WARNING : Fem!Reader, enemies to lovers, angst with comfort. Reader is Antinous’s sister.

Word Count : 3.8k

The great hall of Odysseus’s palace in Ithaca, once a place of joyous feasts and kingly pronouncements, now echoed with the boorish laughter and arrogant demands of the suitors. For years, they had been a plague, consuming the absent king’s stores, harassing his queen, Penelope, and generally making life unbearable for his son, Telemachus. Among them, Antinous, son of Eupheithes, was the most brazen, the most cruel, the undisputed leader of their parasitic band. And you, Y/N, were his younger sister.

Telemachus first laid eyes on you not in the raucous hall, but in the quieter, sun-dappled courtyard. You were tending to a pot of wilting herbs, your brow furrowed in concentration, a stark contrast to the indolent lounging of your brother and his companions. But the moment he learned your lineage, a curtain of ice dropped over his gaze. Antinous’s sister. To him, that meant you were cut from the same cloth, another viper in the nest, perhaps more subtle in your venom, but a viper nonetheless. He’d heard the whispers of your arrival, another mouth to feed from his dwindling inheritance, another soul likely to mock his mother’s grief and his own impotent fury.

“So, the jackal sends for his kin to pick at the scraps,” Telemachus had sneered, his voice loud enough for you to hear as he strode past, his young face a mask of disdain. He didn’t wait for a reply, didn’t care for one. In his mind, you were already condemned by association, a devil sent from the underworld, cloaked in a deceptively gentle facade.

Your initial days in the palace were isolating. The suitors, while acknowledging your presence with varying degrees of politeness (mostly feigned, you suspected, to remain in Antinous’s good graces), largely ignored you. They were too consumed with their revelry and their relentless pursuit of Penelope. The queen herself, ever gracious, offered you a sad, knowing smile whenever your paths crossed, a silent acknowledgment of the difficult position you were in. The servants, loyal to Odysseus’s house, were wary, their eyes holding a mixture of pity and suspicion.

But it was Telemachus’s animosity that stung the most. He seemed to go out of his way to avoid you, yet his disapproval was a palpable force whenever you were in the same space. If you offered a hesitant greeting, he would give a curt, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes like chips of flint. If you happened to be reading in the library – a refuge you quickly discovered – and he entered, he would turn on his heel and leave, as if your very presence contaminated the air.

You understood his hatred for your brother. Antinous was, to put it mildly, an acquired taste, one you yourself had never quite managed to develop. His arrogance, his casual cruelty, his utter disregard for the customs of hospitality – it all grated on you. You had come to Ithaca not by choice, but at your father’s insistence, hoping perhaps to temper your brother’s excesses, a foolish, naive hope you now realized.

One blustery afternoon, as a storm raged outside, mirroring the turmoil within the palace walls, you found yourself in the main hall, trying to stay out of the way as the suitors grew louder and more demanding with each emptied wine skin. Antinous, emboldened by drink, was mocking Telemachus, taunting him about his missing father.

“Still waiting for that ghost to return, princeling?” Antinous jeered, his companions roaring with laughter. “Perhaps he’s found a nicer island, a prettier queen!”

Telemachus stood ramrod straight, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of a sword that still looked a little too large for him. His eyes, though, burned with a fire that belied his youth, a desperate, cornered anger.

Before you even realized what you were doing, you stepped forward. “Brother,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, cutting through the boisterous noise. “That is enough.”

The hall fell silent. All eyes turned to you. Antinous looked at you, his brows raised in surprise, then annoyance. “And who are you to tell me what is enough, little sister?”

“He is the prince of this house,” you stated, your gaze unwavering. “And our guest, by a very strained definition. Some courtesy is due.”

A dangerous glint appeared in Antinous’s eyes. “Are you taking his side now?”

Telemachus watched, his expression unreadable. He expected you to falter, to shrink back under your brother’s displeasure. He expected the familial bond to assert itself, for you to align with the jackal.

But you stood your ground. “I am taking the side of decency, Antinous. Something you seem to have forgotten.”

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, surprisingly, Antinous threw his head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Decency! My sister has become a philosopher! Very well, Y/N, for your sake, I shall spare the boy further… instruction today.” He winked at Telemachus, a look full of malice, before turning back to his wine.

The moment passed. The suitors, though surprised, soon resumed their carousing. But something had shifted. As you retreated to a quieter corner, your heart still pounding, you felt a pair of eyes on you. It was Telemachus. He was still watching you, but the outright hostility in his gaze had been replaced by something else – confusion, perhaps even a reluctant sliver of… respect?

Over the following weeks, the iciness in Telemachus’s demeanor began to thaw, almost imperceptibly at first. He no longer left a room the moment you entered. Occasionally, his eyes would meet yours across the hall, and instead of the usual glare, there would be a flicker of acknowledgment, a silent question.

One evening, you found him alone in the courtyard, staring up at the stars, a melancholic expression on his face. He looked so young then, the weight of the world pressing down on his slender shoulders.

“They are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?” you said softly, joining him by the low stone wall.

He started, surprised by your presence, but he didn’t immediately retreat. “Yes,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on the celestial tapestry. “My father used to tell me stories about the constellations. He said they were the heroes of old, watching over us.” A shadow of pain crossed his features. “I wonder if he watches over me now.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart. “I believe he does,” you said sincerely. “A father’s love is not so easily extinguished.”

He finally looked at you then, truly looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time not as ‘Antinous’s sister’ but as Y/N. “Why are you… different?” he asked, the question abrupt, almost accusatory, yet laced with a genuine desire to understand.

“Different from whom?”

“From him. From them.” He gestured vaguely towards the palace, where the sounds of the suitors’ revelry were a dull roar.

You sighed, leaning against the cool stone. “Blood ties do not dictate the heart, Telemachus. I do not condone my brother’s actions. I never have. Ithaca… it is not as I imagined. And the suffering of your mother, your household… it is a heavy burden to witness.”

A long silence stretched between you, filled only with the chirping of crickets and the distant murmur of the sea.

“He hates me,” Telemachus said finally, his voice low. “Antinous. He would see me dead if he could.”

“I know,” you whispered. “And that is a constant sorrow to me.”

This conversation was a turning point. It didn’t magically erase all his suspicions, nor did it suddenly make you allies in the eyes of the palace. But it cracked open a door between you, allowing a fragile understanding to take root.

Slowly, hesitantly, you began to seek each other out. A shared glance across the feasting table that lingered a moment too long. A quiet exchange of words in the library, discussing a scroll you were both reading. You learned of his fierce loyalty to his father’s memory, his deep love for his mother, and the crushing responsibility he felt to protect what little remained of his legacy. He, in turn, began to see past your familial connection to Antinous, discovering your intelligence, your quiet strength, your compassionate heart that ached for the injustices around you.

The sweetness of these stolen moments was always tinged with an undeniable sadness. You were, by all accounts, on opposing sides of a conflict that was rapidly approaching its boiling point. He was the son of the rightful king, destined to reclaim his birthright. You were the sister of his most ardent enemy. There was an unspoken understanding that any bond forming between you was built on precarious ground.

One afternoon, he found you by the sea cliffs, a place you often retreated to escape the stifling atmosphere of the palace. You were sketching the waves, a talent he hadn’t known you possessed.

“You draw the sea as if you understand its moods,” he commented, sitting down a respectful distance away.

You smiled faintly. “It reminds me that even in chaos, there is beauty. And that storms eventually pass.”

“Do you think this storm will pass?” he asked, his voice earnest, looking at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He wasn’t just talking about the suitors anymore; he was talking about the storm between *you*, the animosity that circumstances had dictated.

“I hope so, Telemachus,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. “I truly do.”

He moved closer then, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand. Your fingers intertwined, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had blossomed in the most unlikely of gardens. His touch was warm, surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh world you both inhabited.

“Y/N,” he began, his thumb tracing patterns on your skin, “I… I was wrong about you. So very wrong.”

“And I about you, perhaps,” you admitted. “I saw only the anger, not the pain beneath it.”

The air was thick with unspoken words, with the sweet, aching realization of a love that should not be, yet irrevocably *was*. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a beautiful, melancholic backdrop to your fragile connection.

“Whatever happens,” Telemachus said, his voice husky with emotion, “when my father returns, or when matters here come to a head… I want you to know that what I feel for you… it’s real.”

Tears welled in your eyes. The joy of his confession was inextricably linked with the sorrow of your predicament. Antinous was your brother, however much you disapproved of him. The impending clash would inevitably place you on opposite sides, regardless of your heart’s inclination.

“And mine for you, Telemachus,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “But oh, what a cruel fate that it should be so.”

He leaned in, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you. The anticipation was a sweet ache in your chest. But he hesitated, the shadow of your brother, of the impending conflict, falling between you. Instead, he gently touched his forehead to yours, a gesture of profound intimacy and shared sorrow.

“We will face what comes,” he murmured against your skin. “But for now… can we just have this? This moment?”

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his presence, the impossible, beautiful, heartbreaking love that had grown from the ashes of hatred. It was a love born in adversity, sweet and poignant, a fragile bloom in a field of thorns. The future was a terrifying unknown, a path fraught with peril and the certainty of pain. But in that moment, with his hand in yours and the sound of the waves as your witness, there was only the bittersweet truth of your affection, a quiet promise whispered against the dying light. The devil he thought you were had somehow become the angel he hadn't known he needed, and the enemy he was sworn to despise had captured his heart.

The whispers started subtly, like the first rustle of leaves before a storm – a beggar at the palace gates, uncannily perceptive, bearing an aura of command despite his rags. Then, the hushed, urgent conversations between Telemachus and Eumaeus, the loyal swineherd. You, Y/N, felt the shift in the air, a taut string pulled to its breaking point. The feasting suitors, lost in their arrogance, noticed nothing. Antinous, your brother, was louder and more demanding than ever, oblivious to the doom gathering like storm clouds.

Telemachus, in the days leading up to it, was a changed man. The melancholy that often clung to him was replaced by a grim determination. His glances towards you were fraught with a new, desperate tenderness, a silent apology for what he knew was coming, a plea for an understanding he couldn’t voice. You tried to catch his eye, to seek reassurance, but he was a whirlwind of secret preparations, his jaw set, his mind clearly on a task of monumental, terrifying importance.

The return of Odysseus, when it finally happened, was not the grand, heroic entrance you might have read about in songs. It was a calculated, brutal reclaiming. The beggar threw off his disguise, and suddenly, the King of Ithaca stood revealed, arrow notched, his eyes blazing with a righteous fury that had simmered for twenty long years.

The great hall, moments before a cacophony of drunken shouts and jeers, erupted into chaos. The locked doors, the hidden weapons, the swift, deadly precision of Odysseus and Telemachus, aided by their few loyal retainers – it was a slaughter.

You were in a smaller chamber off the main hall, attempting to mend a tapestry, your fingers fumbling, your senses already on edge from the palpable tension. When the first screams ripped through the air, your blood ran cold. It wasn't the sound of a drunken brawl; it was the sound of death.

Panic seized you. Your first instinct, ingrained despite everything, was for Antinous. He was your brother. But another, equally powerful terror gripped you – for Telemachus. The boy you had come to love was in the heart of that maelstrom, dispensing death, becoming a warrior before your very eyes.

You crept to the doorway, peering through a crack. The scene was nightmarish. Odysseus, a figure of almost divine retribution, moved with lethal grace. And Telemachus… he fought with a ferocity that was both terrifying and heartbreaking. He was no longer the gentle soul who debated philosophy with you in the library or shared hesitant smiles in the courtyard. This was a prince claiming his due, his hands stained with the blood of those who had wronged his house.

Then you saw Antinous. He wasn’t laughing now. He was cornered, his usual arrogance replaced by a snarl of disbelief and fury as Odysseus confronted him.

“You cur!” Odysseus’s voice boomed, rich with condemnation. “You thought my house was yours for the taking? My wife for the wooing? My son for the slighting?”

Antinous, ever defiant, spat. “We should have killed the whelp years ago!” He lunged, but Odysseus was faster, more experienced. The arrow struck true. Your brother crumpled, a choked cry escaping his lips, his lifeblood staining the well-trodden floor of the hall he had so arrogantly dominated.

A strangled sob tore from your throat. Regardless of his cruelty, his vices, the bond of blood, the shared memories of childhood, however distant, screamed within you. Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, tremors wracking your body. The sounds of the continued fighting, the shouts, the clang of bronze, the screams of the dying, faded into a horrifying backdrop to the singular, stark image of your brother’s lifeless form.

When the last suitor had fallen, and a grim, exhausted silence settled over the blood-soaked hall, Telemachus, splattered with gore but standing tall beside his father, finally saw you. His eyes, still blazing with the battle-light, met yours. The fire in them flickered, then dimmed, replaced by an agony that mirrored your own.

He took a step towards you, then hesitated, his gaze falling to your tear-streaked face, then to the body of Antinous nearby. The chasm that had always threatened your fragile connection had just become a blood-filled abyss.

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice hoarse.

You couldn't speak. You could only look at him, at the blood on his hands – the blood of men, yes, but indirectly, the blood that tied you to this place, to this tragedy.

Odysseus, his gaze sweeping the hall, assessing every detail, noticed the exchange. He saw your crumpled form, your evident distress, and his son’s torn expression. His eyes, wise and weary, narrowed.

“Who is this girl, Telemachus?” Odysseus asked, his voice devoid of its earlier fury, now holding a measured, kingly tone.

“She is… Y/N, Father,” Telemachus said, his voice strained. “She is Antinous’s sister.”

A heavy silence descended. The few loyal servants who had aided in the fight looked at you with suspicion. To them, you were the kin of their chief tormentor.

“Antinous’s sister,” Odysseus repeated, his expression unreadable. He had just orchestrated the death of every man who had sought to usurp him, including the man whose blood you shared. What mercy could you expect?

“Father,” Telemachus interjected quickly, stepping forward, placing himself subtly between you and Odysseus’s scrutiny. “She is not like him. She… she spoke out against Antinous’s treatment of me, of Mother. She showed kindness. She is not our enemy.”

Odysseus looked from his son’s earnest, pleading face to your terrified one. He had heard of your quiet presence, your difference from your boorish brother, even in the disjointed tales brought to him in his disguise. Penelope, too, when he had revealed himself to her in secret, had mentioned you, a flicker of sympathy in her own grief-worn eyes.

“The sins of the brother do not always stain the sister,” Odysseus mused, more to himself than to anyone else. He was a man of strategy, of judging character. He saw not a threat in your tear-filled eyes, but profound grief and perhaps, a reflection of the innocence lost in his own son. “But her presence here is… complicated.”

The days that followed were a blur of grim necessities. The bodies were removed, the hall cleansed, order painstakingly restored. You were confined to your chambers, not as a prisoner, but not free either. A guest whose welcome had been drowned in blood. Your grief for Antinous was a raw, aching wound, complicated by your feelings for Telemachus and the horror of what you had witnessed.

Telemachus came to you a few days later. He was clean, dressed in the simple tunic of a prince at peace, but his eyes were haunted. The shadow of the slaughter still clung to him.

“Y/N,” he said softly, standing awkwardly in your room. The easy camaraderie you had shared felt like a distant dream.

“He was my brother,” you whispered, the words tasting like ash. It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of unbearable fact.

“I know,” Telemachus said, his voice filled with a pain that told you he understood, as much as he could. “And I am sorry for your pain. Truly. But Y/N… they would have killed us. They would have destroyed everything my father built, everything I am sworn to protect. There was no other way.”

“I understand the necessity,” you managed, looking at your hands, unable to meet his gaze. “But understanding doesn’t lessen the horror, or the loss.” You finally looked up at him. “What becomes of me, Telemachus? I am the sister of the man your father killed, the man who would have killed you. Where do I fit in this new Ithaca, built on the graves of my kin?”

His face contorted with sorrow. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the honesty raw and painful. “My father… he is a just man, but he is also a king who has reclaimed his throne through bloodshed. He sees you, I think. He sees that you are not Antinous. But…”

“But the blood remains,” you finished for him.

He nodded, his eyes pleading for you to understand. “I have spoken to him. To my mother. They know of… us. Of what was beginning between us.”

A flicker of hope, fragile and faint, stirred within you. “And?”

“My mother… she has a gentle heart. She remembers your quiet courtesies. My father… he listens. He is considering.” Telemachus took a hesitant step closer. “Y/N, I will not abandon you. I cannot. What I felt for you, what I *feel* for you… that hasn’t been washed away by the blood. If anything, it’s become clearer, more precious, in the face of all this.”

He reached for your hand, and this time, you didn’t pull away. His touch was a small anchor in the turbulent sea of your emotions.

“But can it survive this?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Can *we* survive this? Your people will see me as the sister of their enemy. My own grief… it is a shadow between us.”

“Shadows can fade when light is brought to bear,” Telemachus said, his grip tightening gently. “It will not be easy. There will be distrust, perhaps resentment from some. And your sorrow… I will not ask you to forget your brother, only to see that my actions, my father’s actions, were born of a desperate need to reclaim what was stolen, to bring justice.”

The future stretched before you, uncertain and daunting. The sweetness of your burgeoning love was now deeply intertwined with the bitterness of loss and the grim reality of their violent reunion. There would be no simple path forward. Forgiveness, if it came, would have to be earned, on both sides. Understanding would be a slow, painful process.

Odysseus, in his wisdom, eventually decreed that you were free to leave Ithaca, to return to your father’s house with a suitable escort and dowry, should you choose it. Or, you could remain, under his protection, though your position would always be delicate.

The choice was yours. And as Telemachus stood before you, his heart in his eyes, offering not an easy solution but a steadfast promise to face the complexities with you, you knew that the love that had blossomed in the enemy’s shadow was too strong to relinquish easily. It would be a love story etched with sadness, forever marked by the tragedy that brought them together and tore their worlds apart. But perhaps, just perhaps, it could also be a testament to the resilience of the human heart, a love that chose to build a future even amidst the ruins of the past. The path would be long, and the sweetness forever tinged with sorrow, but the hope, however fragile, remained.

[outoftheseine]

- BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS PART 3 -

his strut, lord forgive me | some fics might have 18+ content so minors do not interact.

main masterlist | part 1 | part 2

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

break free • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @james-bucky (angst, violence, comfort, smut)

honey girl • dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @violentdelightsandviolentends (age gap, soulmate au, smut, angst, fluff)

taken • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @antiquarianfics (angst, violence, kidnapping)

public affair | public display • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kaznejis

you are mine, sunshine • grumpy!bodyguard!bucky barnes x sunshine!fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

i never thought you'd happen to me | part 2 | part 3 • bucky barnes x curvy!reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (slight angst, mostly fluff, smut, luv itt)

against all odds | part 2 • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bossbtch1

ONE-SHOTS - HC'S - BLURBS

you found me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @samthemarvelfan (slight angst, fluff)

cry baby • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @buckymorelikefuckme (smut, friends to lovers)

secret injury • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @lives-in-midgard

the collection • tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

better knock • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @buckysouvenir (flufff, implied smut)

suffocate me with your love • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @rocketrhap3000 (angst with happy ending, self-esteem problems)

always • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (angst with happy ending)

contaminated • bucky barnes x agent!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (fluff)

finally • bucky barnes x spy!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (smut, fluff, angst)

curiosity killed the cat • mafia!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queers-gambit (angst, kidnapping, mean!bucky)

help me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (angst, bucky's ptsd, comfort)

his everything • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @likeahorribledream (angst, fluff and insecure bucky)

the way he loves • bucky barnes x widow!reader

↳ by @lovelybarnes (aahh so fluffy so sweet)

patience • grumpy!bucky barnes x sunshine!reader

↳ by @sageandravens

it's called: freefall • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kikixreverie

baking for bucky • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @itsplumwriter (so fluff, i wish i can bake for bucky too)

wrapped in affection • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @aikaterini-drag (very fluffy)

the signal • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @lostgirlmuseum (angst, a misunderstanding)

first time • bucky barnes x gn!reader

↳ by @ivybucky

i was born ready • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @whatthetumblfck (angst, kidnapping, ptsd?)

babysitting duty • bucky barnes x girlfriend!fem!reader

↳ by @nicoline1998enilocin (fluff)

here's looking at you, kid • boxer!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @cryonme (angst, violence, tw: abuse)

knight in shining motorcycle • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queen-of-the-avengers (almost sa, slight angst, comfort)

verity • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @cosmicbucky (angst, fluff, friends to lovers)

let it be known • mob!bucky barnes x bf!fem!reader

↳ by @kinanabinks

harvest heart • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @eloquentreverie (verry fluffy)

[sauronxgaladriel]

Haladriel Library

Saurondriel/Haladriel Fanfic Recommendations. Some of these stories could fit into multiple categories. If you have any more recommendations feel free to add them!

Marriage

Shadow-Bride by eye_of_a_cat

Bridesprice by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks 

Poison & Wine by Coraleeveritas

Galadriel takes longer to discover Sauron's identity

no matter how many skies have fallen by stitchingatthecircuitboard

A man is a god in ruins by eye_of_a_cat

Queen of the Southlands by FormerlyIR

Galadriel Says Yes

The House That Fire Built by Ready_For_The_Laughing_Gas

dig up the bones (but leave the soul alone) by Wyrd_Syster

Gilded by eye_of_a_cat

And white winter, on its knees by eye_of_a_cat

Mortal Laws by Helholden

A Portion of Thyself by Frotu

Reforged in the Making by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks)

Fabricated by Frotu

Canon Divergence/Reimagining of S1 and onwards

I could be your king by cliffdiving

The Tides of Fate by fireheart321

In Case of Defeat, Break Glass by eastwynds

that i may rise and stand, o'erthrow me by mortaltemples

Five times Halbrand's secret got revealed by eye_of_a_cat

Across That Fine Line by MyrsineMezzo

Instruments of Salvation by Scriberated

a fair form by properhaunt

Autocorrelation by EisforEverything

The Return of the Queen by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

A Feast of Starlight by TheLightofArwyn

Supernatural Creature AU

should have known better by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo) (Witch/Demon AU)

Wild Magic by Scriberated (Witch/God)

Storm Tides & Weaving Threads by elssiie (Siren AU)

just a taste by stardustspell (Vampire AU)

Haladriel meet before TROP

Spark, Ignite, Burn by cliffdiving

our souls were made from the stars by silverwing12 (Deleted)

Necessity's Bargain by Scriberated

Though the Gods and the Years Relent, Shall Be by Helholden

determination is the cure (for longing) by downtheroadandupthehill

where the spirit meets the bones by kangaroopaws

people throw rocks at things that shine by ophidion

Pick a star, and follow it home by CloudlySkies124

Hades Persephone Vibes

Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den by Helholden

a dust like thine by mortaltemples

One-Shots

Unsired by shady-swan-jones (sweetleaf), sweetleaf 

the light of his eyes by eastwynds

now dark, now glittering by mortaltemples

In the Shadow of Your Heart by mzladybird

i cannot heave my heart into my mouth by fallofrain

this love is glowing in the dark by Orcas86

we could just kiss, like real people do by justatinycollector 

a millstone around my neck by mortaltemples

the nameless by bimmyou

next time by you_wear_fine_things_well

ouroboros by Amuria

Pregnancy/Parenthood

Light and Power by chronicallyexhaustedwriter

shining like a fiery beacon by ophidion

A Blessing of Eru by Scriberated

mitosis by Orcas86

Darkness Bound by no_more_doubt

Smut

A Stressed Tiding by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks

this love is glowing in the dark by Orcas86

Buried in Bone by Invisible_Hand

Riptide by makeshiftdraco

Perfection by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

like magnets work, only drawn to thee by audreystark

To Follow the Light by Thrill_of_hope

A Moment of Honesty by Draconic_Grace

Dream Within a Dream by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

bind yourself to me by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

Dream Within a Dream by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

Lady of the Seas by eye_of_a_cat

Dark/Dead Dove

all your pain will end here by poeticmemory

Land of Enchantment by EisforEverything

perle by emphemeron

Glanduin Kiss by Anonymous

The Cost of Victory by EisforEverything

what you and i have wrought by thefudge

what heart's ease by fallofrain

Sauron as Annatar

hold her head above the water by Orcas86

next time by you_wear_fine_things_well

the light of his eyes by eastwynds 

Contaminate by Frotu

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Exposed

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader summary: You come back from a mission with a tear in your suit. Miguel's reaction to what he sees underneath surprises you in the best way. tags / warnings: smut (minors do not interact!), p in v, fem reader, sassy spider-reader word count: 2.3k

You were coming back from a successful mission. Anomaly eliminated. No casualties. Well, except your spider-suit. An annoyingly claw-y bad guy had swiped at you from behind, and even though you’d just managed to dodge his attack, he’d nicked your suit and sliced a long strip of it down your side, from your back all the way down to the top of your thigh. Half your ass cheek was exposed, but you were so exhausted it was beyond you to care. You’d be suit-free and in bed soon enough. You just had to report in to Miguel first. He’d ordered you to because this had been a “potentially significant anomaly.” There seemed to be more and more of those recently. And he seemed to be assigning them mostly to you. You didn’t know of any other spiders that had to report to him personally after missions so often. 

You could feel the cold on your lower back as you walked up to his HQ platform, it slowly descending in front of you. You hop up as soon as it’s low enough, wasting no time. Miguel’s back is to you as he watches what seems like a million screens at once.

“Mission successful, spider-boss.” “Don’t call me that.” You knew he hated that nickname. That’s why you kept using it. 

“You prefer spider-captain? Spider-chief? Oooh maybe spider-king? No, that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t spiders more matriarchal anyway? You could be spider-queen if you want. Has a bit of a bite to it.” “Y/N,” he deadpans. “Hm?” “Shut up.” “Yes, sir, spider-queen!” 

He finally turns around to look at you, exasperation all over his chiseled features. You catch the end of his eye roll. Knowing engaging will only get more out of you, he opts to go straight to business. “You eliminated the anomaly?” “Yup.”

“Cleaned up the contamination afterward?” “Like the top-class interdimensional janitor that I am.”

“Anything unusual?” “Well, there was this big scary dude with giant claws that was only ever black and white when the rest of the world was especially colorful. Soo that was weird.” “I mean other than the exact reason I sent you there in the first place.” He runs his hand over his face, the other on his hip, looking sassier than he probably intended. “Oh! Then no.” 

You come over to his desk, leaning on it.

“And you’re alright? No injuries or anything?” In the back of your mind, you notice his voice softening as he asks you this. 

“I’m good. More than I can say for my suit though,” you laugh. You lift from the desk, turning slightly, twisting to look at the tear, exposing it to Miguel. “Why’s it called ‘tearing someone a new one,’ huh? Doesn’t make any sense. I need a new one specifically because this one’s torn.” 

You don’t expect him to respond to your stupid question, but when you look up at Miguel, the look on his face is more than unexpected. His eyebrows are shot up, his mouth the slightest bit ajar, his eyes fixed intently on your exposed ass. 

For once, you have no idea what to say. Why was he looking at you like that? Were you in trouble? Just because this was a bit inappropriate? I mean, c’mon, you were all spider-people; you’d all had your fair share of injuries that needed patching up and the like. It felt like a big sports team: bodies rendered just bodies by the heat of battle. Of course, you’d never admit to anyone out loud that while that was true for all the other spiders in your eyes, Miguel was the sole exception. His body could never be just a body. It was too imposing… too striking… too beautiful. You caught yourself staring at him much more often than you liked. Always talked incessantly when he was around to keep yourself distracted and from looking like an idiot. Well, you still looked like an idiot after everything you said, but you were an idiot on your own terms, usually getting some laughs while you were at it. 

“Miguel?” You come up with nothing else. 

Your voice snaps him out of his trance. His eyes shoot up to your face, and he looks — what is that? you’d never seen that look on Miguel O’Hara… was it… flustered?

“Um, yes, uh, right. Your suit,” he’s looking around at his screens again, trying to look busy but you can tell his gaze isn’t actually taking in any of the images. “We’ll get you a new one.” 

The tension lessened and, more importantly, his eyes no longer on you give you back a bit of your confidence. 

“You in charge of tailoring too? You really gotta learn to delegate, spider-boss.” He doesn’t say anything. Not even with you specifically trying to push his buttons with the nickname. “Okayy…” you elongate. “So, can I go now?”

He just grunts, not sparing another look toward you.

You start walking back across the platform but remember a detail of the mission you had wanted to tell him before making it too far. 

“Oh, there was this thing with my watch —“ you start, but all words get caught in your throat when you see Miguel as you turn back toward him. He’s staring at you like a viscous predator just about to pounce. His chin is down but his eyes are on you, even darker than usual and penetrating. You can tell by the rise and fall of his ridiculously broad chest that his breathing is a bit labored. He’d clearly been looking lower than your face level, as his eyes shoot up to yours when you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like the longest, heaviest moment of your life so far. Then, in what feels like the quickest, he’s closed the distance between you, coming to a stop just in front of you, closer than he’s ever been to you before.

He’s towering over you. Any movement forward at all and you’d be touching. You’re sure he can feel your heavy breathing as you look up at him. You can feel his.  

He looks like he wants to murder you. But Miguel O’Hara has a way of encoding all emotions into shades of anger and aggression. And you’ve watched him closely enough for long enough to sometimes think you have an idea of what lies beneath. You haven’t cracked it completely, but you certainly see shades of gray where others see black and white. 

The stakes have never been quite this high for your getting it wrong, but hoping beyond hope that you know what he actually wants, you push your face the fraction of a distance to his, crashing your lips together. 

From the moment they graze, his hands are on you, groping your exposed ass with one, pulling you into him with the other. He devours your mouth, so feral you even worry for a split second about his fangs coming out. You’re so consumed by him you probably wouldn’t mind if they did.

Not breaking apart from you, Miguel takes the few steps back to his desk, dragging you with him. When the backs of his thighs come up to the desk, he flips you around so that you’re pushed up against it. You’re caged between it and his broad body as his hands continue exploring your body, his tongue continues exploring your mouth. 

At this point you can feel the huge bulge between his legs pressing against you, his spider-suit doing nothing to hide it, doing little to separate you from it. 

When his mouth leaves yours, dragging hungrily down to your jaw and neck, you whine his name. He groans in response, and you feel the vibrations where your chests are flush.

Taking the opportunity to do something you’d often dreamed of, you lift your hand and run it through his thick hair. His moans get louder, and you take it as a sign scratch and tug harder. 

You know you didn’t pull strongly enough to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he pops off from where he’s sucking on your neck and looks into your eyes. He gives you a harsh kiss then says simply, “Turn around.” You do. He bends you over his desk.

You feel his hands on your hips first then they squeeze your ass hard. He slaps your exposed cheek, and you jump at the sudden sensation. 

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he says, voice low. 

You nod and confess, “I want it rough, Miguel. Please.” “Fuuck, chula. You drive me crazy.” You just whimper in response. 

He spanks you again then tears your suit further, exposing your entire ass and your by now soaked cunt. “You walk in here with half your ass out like it’s nothing. Like you can show me what I spend my nights imagining and expect me not to do anything about it.” He slaps your other ass cheek. “You’re soaked, mami. You wanted this as badly as I did?” You nod desperately. “Tell me what you wanted.” “Fuck, Miguel. You. I wanted you.” 

“You want me to fuck you?” You can already feel him messing with his suit. 

“Yes, fuck, please; please fuck me.” When the head of his cock touches your cunt, your entire body shudders with anticipation. He pushes in forcefully, your wetness enough for him to start sliding in. But he’s big. Really big. As he keeps pushing, you feel a bit of a sting. When he hears you hiss, he slows his entrance but doesn’t stop entirely. “Relax, nena,” he coos. His hands massage your hips. “Breathe, baby.” You take a long inhale, and by the time you’re exhaling, you feel him finally bottom out. “Eso, mi amor. Just like that. Fuck, you feel incredible.” “Migueel,” you whine. “Yeah, baby, I got you.” His hands tighten on your hips as he slowly drags his cock back out until only his tip is inside. You’d never felt so empty. Then he pushes back in, faster than the first time. And again. And again. 

Miguel’s pace quickens probably a bit faster than you’re ready for, but you love the intensity of the sensations. You love the feeling of him deep inside you, of him desperate to be deeper. You start rocking back in time with his thrusts, slamming your ass onto him. 

“Fuuuck.” His voice is gravel. One of his powerful hands comes to your shoulder to help pull and push you at his now brutal rhythm. He fucks you with a stamina only possible for a superhuman. You’re sure you wouldn’t be able to take it if you weren’t one yourself.

The large room echoes your slapping skin, your yells and moans as he spears into you repeatedly.

Your thighs tighten as you start nearing your climax. Your cunt starts squeezing tighter. “Fuck, fuck, eso, nena, eso,” he chants, getting even rougher. His praises start sounding strangled, and you know he’s close too. 

“Cum with me, Miguel,” you beg desperately. He groans animalistically at your words, giving you a strangled affirmative moan and pushing his pace to what you imagine is his limit. 

“C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum for me,” he urges. It’s easy to let go with how hard he’s fucking you. You can’t really feel the rest of your body except for a hot heaviness. All you feel is where you’re connected and how every thrust sends pure pleasure coursing through you. 

You’re orgasming a second later, and to the feeling of your clenching cunt and the sound of your euphoric screams, Miguel comes right after. 

You’re unable to keep up your movements, too spent and too blissed out, but he keeps thrusting, albeit slower, until you’ve both rode out the hardest orgasms of your life. Then and only then does he still, still inside you, and collapse onto your back. His broad torso covers you completely, warming you despite how sweaty you are now.

His labored breathing on the back of your neck tickles, sending a shiver down your body. He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulder, pulling your suit down to kiss at more skin. 

He eventually lifts himself up; you were never going to push him off, that’s certain. You could spend forever under him, wrapped up in him. 

His strong hands lift your especially malleable body, turning you to face him and helping support you as you lean back on the desk. 

When your eyes meet, Miguel smiles at you. It stops your rapidly beating heart. 

One arm around you, his other hand pushes sweaty hair off your face then lingers there, caressing. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. You just nod. He laughs. “What?” you giggle. “So that’s what it takes to make you stop talking, huh?” “Shut up!” you tsk, shoving his wall of a chest. He doesn’t budge at all, just catches your hand in his, bringing it to his face and kissing it. His lips linger over the skin of your fingers, the back of your hand. You trace them lightly, and they shift into a subtle grin. 

As you look into his big brown eyes, you’re pretty sure you know what this ever-thinning shade of serious is covering.

“Miguel?” 

“Hm?” He pecks your hand again. 

“All those missions… they weren’t ‘potentially significant’ were they?” 

He lowers your hand but keeps it in his. His gaze follows your hands down, looking away briefly, but he’s looking into your eyes again when he shakes his head ever so subtly. You hum in understanding. He just needed to make sure you were okay after.

After a beat, you whisper, “Can we stop pretending?�� “That the missions are special?” “That what we feel for each other isn’t…” 

“Ah.” He looks torn. You know he thinks it’s dangerous, know he feels the weight of literally the entire universe on his very broad shoulders. You lean up and kiss him gently. 

“We can figure it out,” you whisper against his lips. His nose brushes yours as he nods then kisses you again. 

[ready-to-read7]

Prompt #5

(this one is being done on my phone because my laptop had to be taken in for service )

This was inspired by two other things. I can’t remember who created the first one but I know it was something about ghost blobs being turned into bees or something and the other one is this one https://www.tumblr.com/lordgrimoire/710110288894099456/the-blob-ghosts

So anyways

(so this includes ghost Prince Danny a lot of ghost blobs a very confused Justice League a much older Danny maybe in his 20s good Fenton parents and redeemed Vlad)

So after Danny became ghost Prince because he was too young to be king and somehow for some reason a bunch of ghosts blobsescaped through the portal and buy a bunch I mean a lots of them and because they’re filter feeders and the places where they were going, were very contaminated or had a lot of negative ecto energy Danny simply trained the blobs to return to a certain area with a little bit of the echo similar to how bees collect pollen and bring it back to the hive, but the hive is his house and I don’t mean the Fenton house. I mean like his house. That is on a small farm just slightly out of Amity Park the house was a gift from Vlad to say sorry for everything.

So Danny technically became the equivalent of a queen bee to the ghost blobs

And for one reason or another people are starting to see the ghost blobs and no one knows what they are many people find them cute but the Justice League is so confused on what they are.

They try studying them, but they just disappear occasionally and no one has the heart to hurt them because they seem harmless and even Batman won’t allow it because these little things have been helping Jason which he is grateful for

Red Robin eventually discovers that these little things act sort of like bees like they clearly gain something from whatever they’re doing and clearly go somewhere afterwards.

So the bat family and a few other heroes, follow a few ghost blobs back to a house in Illinois and they discover a Danny in his ghost form with his small crown above his head interacting with the ghost blobs and they assume that this is the queen or king of these small beings

[inkeyjay]

Content warning: Blood, Gore, body horror

Diseased Relicary

Weird autopsies

An mild ailment corroded the streets of Arca two decades ago. The fevers were believed to be contracted throught the ingestion of contaminated fish and water. The vercals, renown healers, rose to power to ensure it wouldnt erradicate the city, but it ended making it worse. Health potions administered by Saint Trina's order were only capable of stopping the synthoms for a few days, and then they returned and so on. Anger festered in the streets, as only a few were able to afford such care and any attempts to replicate or look for a cure outside the order were crushed just as the poison filled vials between the teeths of their perpretators.

Queen Consuelo Vercal herself got the infection, but she endured years, for the monarch had the saints beside her. As the queen stood proudly on Arca Altus tall towers, the city withered at her feet. And another disease took the city: rebellion.

Only when the queen stepped down and took off the crown, as a final act of martydom, the plague was expelled from the city's lungs. The Nerón family then swore to legislate towards peace so the city could recover, not just from the epidemy, but also from the deep wounds that divided it.

The disease is now known as the Saltpeter fevers, due to its origin in the salty waters of the estuary, and the white residue pilling around the mouths of the ill. Just a few medics and forensic were able to see where it came from.

[theuninterestingone]

Zora problems: The water is contaminated and Sidon is forced to watch his loved ones sicken and die after the death of his sister, but cannot directly confront it without risking his kingdoms safety

Rito problems: A massive blizzard has grounded them. They are starving, freezing, and alone. The only one capable of helping is still a child and cannot go alone

Gerudo problems: The proud warrior race has been forced underground, unable to fight back. Their child queen has yet to master her powers and fears failing her people

Goron problems: meth

[neodymiumcuilz]

The joy of children in Gaza has been destroyed.

In Gaza, children don't get to be children. Many children are detained and forced into prison. Many children are forced to look after their siblings after their parents were murdered. Children have to sleep in the cold, in the humiliating and unsanitary conditions. No comfortable bed in sight. Children have to drink contaminated water, and risk disease. And risk disease due to flies and rats and conditions where people live in very close proximity.

“Starvation is increasing,” said Jonathan Whittall, head of the U.N.'s humanitarian affairs office for the occupied Palestinian territories. More than 110 children have been admitted for treatment for malnutrition every day since the start of this year, he said.

Please, see this suffering and stand in solidarity. Stand against this madness. Please help by donating, sharing and spreading awareness, and taking other action.

Nour ( @nooralanqar-new ) is a parent of three young children that need your help. Young children are very vulnerable in Gaza.

" I'm Nour Alanqar, and reaching out to you during a time of unimaginable hardship. I am 26 years old, married to Ashraf Ismail, who is 32, and together we have three beautiful children: Hussein, 6, Rajaa, 5, and Youssef, just 10 months old. Our lives have been turned upside down by the devastating war in Gaza, and we desperately need your help. "

she describes her children beautifully with care and love,

" My daughter Rajaa is a radiant beam of sunshine, bringing boundless joy, warmth, and love to everyone she meets. "

Rajaa has unfortunately contracted hepatitis to add to their suffering.

" My baby Youssef, whom I clung to throughout the war, running with him through the rubble of shattered homes to escape. "

Youssef is just one of the babies suffering without baby formula.

" At an age when Hussein should have been enjoying his childhood, all his rights were taken away from him. "

Imagine the trauma of a child that has been through such destruction. Do these words not indicate to you that these a people, worthy of stability, opportunities and respect?

They have reached 65% of their goal, could you chip in to help?

VETTING INFORMATION HERE AND HERE.

tagging for reach;

@palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @feluka-blog-blog @flower-tea-fairies @tsarizu-archive @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutalia @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamamita @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @camgirlsurvivalguide @baby-girlsx @nabulsi27 @thejasontoddarchives @anarchafemme @sweet-honey-bunnies @lesbiansforglados @dxppercxdxver @sheepory @elb4ckfl1po @millenniumidol @heart-forge @infectiouspiss @baweiii @butchfeygela @fox-guardian @oars @wolfythewitch @technofeudalism @pizzat-i @theomenroom @unearthprisonpanopticon @sealsdaily @ashwantsafreepalestine @ubernegro @bugmatics @kingoftheironcity @checkadii @wolf-tail @thi4f @mt-travaii @redbuddi @plasticduck @risoria @mollysunder @sister-lucifer @punkeropercyjackson @immediatebreakfast @khizuo @nevert-the-guy @ahaura @chanafehs @yourpersonaltimebomb @wolstinien @neechees @ankle-beez @webdings4 @silicacid @schroedingers-mooneater @lonniemachin @dykesbat @charlott2n @watermotif @yeetsintovoid @momorikoz @determinate-negation @girlinafairytale @yugiohz @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @painfully-unoriginal

[savealsaidifamily]

Urgent appeal to those with kind and loving hearts 🙏🙏

Hello, I hope you and your loved ones are safe and healthy.🙏

My family live in tents which lack the minimum standard of living. My father is now very sick, he had a heart catheterization operation before the war. Doctors recommended him to have healthy diet and life style but because of living in a tent, wet with rainwater, full of insects, lacking hygiene, and because of drinking contaminated water, as well as due to the inability to buy healthy food, now my father is very sick. The doctor told him that he has food poisoning and he needs urgent medical care. Do you imagine yourself sick and there is no clean place around you, no bed to sleep on, no warm drink to give your body strength, no medicine to relieve your pain, and no comfortable mattress to give you warmth?

Furthermore, my mother and our innocent little children have caught cold and infectious viral disease😞

Please, we have lost hope in this life, but don't let us lose hope in your humanity.🙏🙏 we just want to live in safety, and peace.

Your help, no matter how small, will save my family from death and disease and give them the happiness they have lost for a whole year of war.

My family campaign has received only £ 1,413 as of 5/10.

An important note: tumblr recently restricted my previous account from sending messages, i did nothing except that I want to save the lives of my family from this nightmare . I made different accounts, but my family name will not change which is Alsaidi family.

Vetted by @bilal_salah0, info here

and also vetted by @moayesh , info here on Gaza evacuation funds

@bulletbilltime @liphia @cyber2000 @zingay @binglam @somedudeoutthere @rooksongbird @frogbrainedfool @the-ending-of-dramamine @mossdeep @redsavesquare @uninvited-eon @frogbrainedfool @glenbot @ultimateumbreon33 @disastersim @airsigh @cowboy-queer @lapastelr0sa @sharingresourcesforpalestine @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @kropotkindersurprise @cruzwalters @la7ma-mafrooma @rosyish @bookskittychad @streakoflavender @gabajoofs @miraclemaya @devilofthepit @gay-yosuke @cometcrystal @corvidkusnos @nb-marceline @cicadaland @manletwizard @2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael @penelopiaad @hashiramashonkers @laughtracklesbian@legallymean @b0nkcreat @crapscicle @uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @momxijinping @longlivepalestina @saberboi-1 @martinmynster @nako-funky @trans-leek-cookie @vaticinatrix @moomoobug @narwa @twilightobservationtower @estrellasrojas @knxfesck @lakeeffectbitch @fatbitchneedsfoodbadly @no-thats-absurd @humanmorph @sandiwchirlinreal @tcda @misspiggyforvogueitalia @gamb0fficial @vincentspork @gemstonedraws @frankendykes-monster @mizoguchi @kos-mos @ryoki-ph @blackwoolncrown @commissions4aid-international @deathlonging @mazzikah @mahoushojoe @deepspaceboytoy @ana-bananya @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @sawasawako @wellwaterhysteria @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @irhabiya @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis @killy @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillain @aristotels @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @kahin @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat @watermotif @stuckinapril @2violent2revolution @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2 @readingsquotes @bellybuttonblue2 @moonrisemoonchild @bees-fart-too @andiv3r-reblogging @ambidextrousarcher @fresh-bed-old-sheets @starless-gaze @esperantokomencanto @thinking-about-giraffes @blogtruenorth @cripsycremecuckery @mercurysreal @caffeinated-reverie @blueberryblowfly @mione-g @monstermashpotato @noble-kale @theultracharmingladynoire @nibeul @bignightengineer @khudrang @m-an-u @rdx-dcm @sleepyhomosexual @hussyknee @27moremoons @marine-bi-ology @longlivepalestina @fanonical @plaidos @metamatar @the-eldritch-it-gay @sabertoothwalrus @nogender-onlystars @Lufago @c-u- c-koo-4-40k @bixlasagna

Sorry if i bothered you in the mention

[dropsnectar]

Bee-men Stuff

Hi Everyone! So I've been getting alot of attention for the bee content I was making! I just want to thank you all for reading! However, it looks like my fanfic might have made the original author uncomfortable, so I was thinking of just making my own universe for bee monsters and other things! If I'm honest, i’m more into world building, and fluffy stuff anyway. So, if I do write anymore stuff, just assume its this new universe! Here are some thoughts I've been having!

Bees have long had spiritual associations with life and even being messengers to the gods. Because of this, you will find that most Bee-man have a grasp on certain magics, especially when it comes to making honey. This universe is set in a world where monsters are the norm, and often live in colonies in forests or their natural habitats. Humans can be found anywhere as we are a pretty sturdy species and there is often mingling of the species. While there are mostly human cities, there are some that are filled with monsters or other humanoidish creatures. 

Bee-men are pretty rare, as insect monsters usually have to be imbued with sturdy magics to survive out in the wild and upkeep their large physical forms. Its how they are able to fly and be light, while also having some strength!

Bee-men are kind of seen as an endangered species by other beings, due to their rare essence, so there is rarely an overlap of territory between monsters. This also has to do with their honey making skills.

Bee-men are very good at making honey, and do so in a similar way to normal bees. Their territory is often filled with huge flowers, often magical ones that like to travel about. This is how they evolved some of their magics. Their song, difficult to hear for most humans, has been known to calm the rogue nomadic flower into compliance. 

Bee-men are also known to keep normal bees! They often mix their own honey with theirs to form certain concoctions, or just food variety for daily life. Bee-men love sweet things, though cane sugar itself has been known to give them indigestion. Give your local Bee-man jams, or fruit tarts and he will be so happy!

Honey has also been associated with mead, an alcoholic wine made from honey. Irl bees are very stern about drunk bees entering the hives, and contaminating their own honeystores. They've even been known to tear limbs off! But Bee-men have a sort of complicated history with alcohol. In old times, when Bee-men didn't have to worry about their numbers, their would be long, three day festivals, usually on the Queens birthday, where all bees of every class would take shifts working or partying it up on their special mead with their Queen. Their meads natural magical properties also help the drinkers with better speech(Think Kvasir of norse mythology), where Bee-men would take turns telling their Queen and the crowd stories, or share in musical song. There have been times in the past where other beings have broken into the hive to procure this magical mead, in hopes of hitting it rich. For this reason, many hives don't make much mead anymore.

Much like normal bees, Queens are usually made within the hive by feeding an egg Royal Jelly. However, the hive that I will be focusing on has had issues being able to secrete Royal Jelly, as they have been so long without a proper Queen.  

The hive has been able to survive due to surviving off of human product, since honeystores have been low lately, but this has weakened the hive considerably.

Hives are able to take a human queen only if they have the proper pheromone type to interact with the hive. Bees communicate through pheromones, which is why Bees are often covered in a lovely lemony scent. Thats there pheromones and them talking to each other!

Bee-men in the hive are constantly aware of each others emotions, and it is not uncommon for them to be able to use their magic to sooth each other. Their pheromones can make eachother(and humans!) Very calm and relaxed(Or excited… we will get to that later:)). If a Bee-man is around a human long enough that he is acquainted with most of the behavior of your pheromones, he can somewhat talk with you telepathically! Although the most this can do is share emotions, and occasionally images. This isn't very efficient, so many bee-men have learned how to speak human language. 

Bee-men actually have a really interesting origin! Like how I mentioned before about Bees being messengers of the Gods, their was one who loved bees so much he fell in love with one. He gave it human form and their children became Bee-men, hence their innate magical abilities and somewhat humanoid appearance. 

Bee appearances can vary alot! A bees appearance can often effect their skill, and a lot of worker bees or drones share similar features. They have human like faces and are covered in fuzz! Some have several sets of arms, and all have long wings. They can get mistaken for fae sometimes, but the yellow and black fuzz gives it away. Also, their skin has varying textures per where you touch them, some parts are hardened, while things like their inner arms and palms feel more like skin.

Bee-men tend to stay together but there are times that bee-men will leave the hive willingly, or be exiled. In this case it is very important they find a mate or family unit. Much like bunnies, they die easily of broken hearts, and need to have their daily cuddle sessions! They also need to share their pheromones, so it is more often that they create mate bonds with humans. This can be difficult for our little bees, because very few humans are compatible with their type of magic. Its even harder to find a human who is compatible to be a queen.

Thats it for now! I might make a post about their hierarchy and some more stuff. Anywho, if you want more bee media(more smut focused), go ahead and check out @bunnis-monsters ! Also, again I am creating a wider universe of monster and magic stuff through here so if you have any questions, i'm open to it! 

[africanotaku92]

A Little bit of Ghost Zone worldbuilding/DP AU yapping

Long post incoming, kept under a Read More for your convenience!

Ok, so i imagine that, as the Highest ranking Monarchical authority in the ghost zone, ranking second only to the Zone itself, The Ghost King is allowed to have a Harem. Actually, it's encouraged for them to have a harem with as many members from as many nations within the ghost zone as possible, as it would ensure political security between the Ghost King and the other lands within the Infinite Realms.

Now the Harem is tiered and divided into different sections based on their importance as well as favourability too the King. The first tier are his Queens. These are the spouses that are the most near and dear to his heart, his life mates if you will. They are the King's truest romantic interest, his equals and his true spouses.

The next tier are the Consorts. These are the official spouses of the king. They are usually beings of great political and societal importance or are just super powerful entities. They don't necessarily marry the king out of love, although it's possible for them to do so.

The last significant tier are the Concubines. These are basically the official side chicks of the King that have been approved to enter the harem by any of the King's official spouses. They can be of minor political or none at all, social standing doesn't matter. They enter the harem for a multitude of reasons, anything from being given to the King as collateral for a debt to being protected by the King or his spouses from any danger they deem a significant threat. They don't have even have to belong to the king, and can belong to one of his Queens or Consorts. Of course there are other roles in the harem, such as servants or guards but these three are the only significant tiers of the Harem. Harem members may also still retain roles and titles separate from their identities in the harem, but it is still considered polite and respectful to refer them to their harem titles unless instructed otherwise.

Now how the King claims his Harem members differs from monarch to monarch, but they all commonly leave something significant; a permanent mark. Typically this would be an imprint of the Ghost King's ectosignature left on the ghosts core, with more pronounced intensity the more significant they are to the ghost king, but in the rare occasions that the King takes in a still living spouse the mark may manifest physically, resembling a tattoo or birth mark.

Becoming part of any of the three most important tiers of the Ghost King's Harem obviously comes with it's perks. Apart from being subject to a life of luxury, opulence and opportunities one would never have had, they also come with guaranteed ghosthood (for those still alive members), personal protection from one of the most powerful beings across the known multiverse, and significant power boosts and life exstentions, pertaining to ghost, non-human, and liminal members.

Which brings me to my next topic of discussion; Liminality!

Liminality is often referred to as the quality of something being in between two stages or states, and in this context, the stages between being a non-ectoplasmic and a fully ectoplasmic being.

With this definition stated, I can safely subscribe to the whole 'Liminality is a spectrum' theory, With one extreme end being a non-ectoplasmic being ( Using humans as an example here) and the other extreme end being pure ghosts.

Normal humans tend to fall in between the ranges of 0 to 9%, where ectoplasmic contamination is considered negligible compared to their main biological makeup, and this has little to no effect on them.

Humans that live in areas of low and/or mainly impure ectoplasmic densities, such as Gothomites, are typically within the 10-18% range of liminality. At this range, people have started to exhibit visible signs, such as increased strength above the norm and increased resilience to substances and actions that would harm the a typically normal person. Of course Gotham in itself is a slight exception because you have liminals harming other liminals within the same or even lower range, so it functions on a level comparatively  like that of a normal city.

Adults that have been exposed to larger and/or purer densities of ectoplasm for long amounts of time typically fall into the 19-29% range. At this range they experience significant boosts in natural abilities, develop better resistances on a much larger scale, and develop slight physical changes, such as eyesight better than 20/20 vision and bigger and better physiques, and longer lifespans of up to 500 years. The changes are slight as they happen with individuals that are farther past their developmental years. This is also when people start to give off detectable traces of an ectoplasmic signature.

Individuals ranging from child aged to young adulthood in areas of high density and/or increasingly pure ectoplasm will typically fall within 30-45% liminality, with the younger and longer the exposure of the more pure and intense ectoplasm the higher the percentage would be. They begin to have significantly defined ghost abilities at this stage and have developed significant non human features at this stage, such as slited eyes, claws, fangs, non human physiques and features, etc. They also have incredibly long lifespans at this range, with the potential to live up to 3000 years in the mortal world. Jazz, Sam and Tucker are the three most liminal beings in Amity Park, due to their close proximity to purer sources of ectoplasm. Jazz has 44% ectoplasmic make up, while Sam and Tucker have about 46% ectoplasmic make up. They have strongly defined ectosignatures at this range, and are almost guaranteed ghosthood.

Next up are halfas, incredibly rare occurrences as most people cannot handle further levels of ectoplasmic exposure and just straight up die. They are beings that permanently have one foot in death and the other foot in life. Vlad is an Imperfect halfa at 48% liminality, Danny is a Perfect halfa, evenly split at 50%. Dani (Ellie or Danielle for future references) is slightly more ghost at 52%, and Dan (short for Dante) is more ghost than human at 63% (still has a human form though.) For future references, Ellie and Dan have been adopted by Danny's parents, both ghost and human, so when i refer to Danny's siblings i'm talking about all three of them.

Liminality may also occur in other non human species, though it might be more common or rare and the percentages may vary depending on the species and how ectoplasim affects their biological makeup.

But Jay, you might be asking, while this is fun and all, why bring up ghost harems and liminality? Well, my dear readers, if you have lasted this long into my rant you know exactly where i'm going with this!

Or you don't. But not to worry, i'll explain either way.

I present to you the dumb AU idea that had to have a stupidly long post to get to; Ghost King Danny AU with his entire class as his Harem.

So this is a Town-wide reveal gone right AU. After Danny defeats Pariah Dark, everyone in town knows who he is and accepts him, his parents stop trying to hunt ghosts and focus on researching about them instead. Danny goes back to his school life and hashes out any beef he had with anyone, settles any unrequited feelings and basically becomes friends with everyone. Even the A-listers are on good terms with him, any resulting violence between them the unserious kind with no bite to it that happens between friends. His rouges are at peace (or what counts as peaceful between a culturally violent race such as ghosts) and are practically part of the town. Clockwork informs him of the rules by conquest and as recognized both by the Zone and by law he is now Heir Apparent to the Throne of the Infinite Realms. It's hard at first, dealing with school and Realm matters/education, but with the support from his family and friends, he makes due.

As time goes on, Danny grows closer and closer to people. Sam and Tucker are the first and he falls in love with them hard. They fit into the empty slot of his core that he didn't know he had like snug, warm gloves on his hands on a cold winters day.

Paulina, Valerie, and Dash are next, basically becoming his queer platonic soulmates. He also holds the other former A-listers in high esteem, but not as much as those three.

Wes has become Danny's bestfriend and rival, taking up the previous spots Sam and Tucker had when they were still 14. They have video game wars and egg each other on in the best ways possible.

The rest of Danny's class are also good friends of his. He holds them all close to his heart as his most trusted confidants, and so shows them as such.

He looks through Pariah Dark's castle--now his through his conquest inheritance-- and finds what he's looking for; gems that represent all who he loves and how much they mean to him. With the help of some ghost craftsmen, he makes all of their gifts with their own personal touch, and infuses them with shards of the pure essence of his ectoplasm.

He gifts Sam and Tucker first; they each get a necklace, and later rings that he uses to propose to them. Valerie, Dash and Paulina are next, each of them getting a kick out of their matching earrings. Wes get's a choker with the centerpiece shaped like a spade, which to Danny's confusion and slight fear he cackles madly at, but never takes it off. The rest of his class all get various other crafted jewellery or trinkets that would best define them. Life is good.

Until it becomes a lot more complicated.

Shortly after he had given the last of his classmates their gifts, while he was enjoying breakfast with his beloveds, Danny was suddenly bombarded with the several angry yelling voices of the Observants invading his kitchen, accompanied by a wary looking Clockwork, demanding to know why he would overlook them on the most basic of procedures; that they were offended that he didn't even consult them before he made his decisions!

"What decisions?" Danny asked, confused and a little annoyed that his peaceful morning was interrupted by the giant eyeballs.

"The decision on your spouses!" One of them frustratedly yelled at him. Danny's face instantly darkened; he did not like the implications of those words. He rose from his seat, anger rising.

"Now listen here, you wannabe Jonathan Sims! Sam and Tucker are literally the best thing that happened to me! I'd never need your approval to marry them! And even if i did i--"

"Not those two, Phantom! Your heart and your Core ring true even as you say their names. The Daughter of The Wilds and The Pharaoh are the perfect matches to be your Queens, no one is denying you that." Another one of them interrupts Danny's rant. He immediately stops, relief washing over him at the observant's words.

"No, we are here to demand explanation on your other spouses. Your Consorts and your Concubines. Honestly, it's all just one big mess! We know nothing of whomst you have chosen, not their social standing nor their power levels, we do not even know which is which amongst the whole lot! How did you even get Concubines with no Consorts to approve of them!?!?" The former one demanded, and the others made noises of approval. The trio at the table looked at the Observants with varying degrees of confusion. Tucker was the first one to speak up.

"Erm, sorry, but what other spouses?"

It was at this point that Clockwork had decided to intervene. He managed to get the Observants to back down and retreat back into the Ghost Zone, then he sat the trio down, along with his siblings and parents, and explained the situation to them. All those gifts Danny gave his friends? They were engagement gifts. Not regular gifts, not even courting gifts. As they were personally crafted by the King himself and literally contain a part of him, no matter the intent given to them they were sacred and special enough to be considered him basically asking for their hands in marriage. And all of them accepted. The engagements can't be annulled, as they were all approved of by the Zone itself and so are binding in all planes of existence. All that's left now is to sort out who's who, gain approval from their various guardians, and plan the ceremonies in tandem with his coronation.

Danny is, understandably, freaking out. Not only because he literally accidentally got engaged to his entire class but that he has to explain it to them. Clockwork could only comfort him and reassure him that the sooner he told everyone the better for all of them in all time lines. He could only sigh.

So, he called everyone and planned a class-wide hangout at a nearby park. Everyone came, all of them laughing, talking, having a good time, and wearing the gifts that Danny had given him. It pained him to see that something they would have cherished so deeply would cause them grief. But with reassuring squeezes from his fiances, he took a deep breath and explained the situation to them.

Their reactions were...far better than he expected them to be. Sure, some of them were upset, they were either dating outside of the class or would have a hard time finding romance once they learned that they had been unknowingly engaged. But after the initial shock wore off, several people were ok with it, as they were either dating within the class and were at least assured that they could stay together this way, or they weren't really hopeful on finding love outside the town due to their liminality, and this ensured their future. Dash pulled him into a hug, reassuring him that he wasn't the worst person to be married too, and that they would be fine. Danny sobbed into his shoulders in relief. Things were going to be OK.

Until they weren't.

See, the GIW were absolutely furious with the Fentons sudden lack of cooperation at first, then outright baffled when they changed from ghost hunters to ecto-entity researchers. They were very suspicious indeed, and kept a closer eye on the town. Then they noticed things. First, it was the new influx of ghostlly inhabitants in the town. Then, they noticed that it took a long time for anyone to age. Almost 50 years of observation had passed, and all the middle aged adults had barely grown in one wrinkle. They also noticed that all the children that grew up would practically stop aging once they reached their 20s, and the kicker was when they started to develop powers and inhumane features. Clockwork had warned Danny about the impending attack and gave him the best solution; move the entirety of Amity Park to the Ghost Zone. It was no easy feat, but Danny with the collective efforts of his parents and several other powerful ghost entities successfully moved Amity Park to the Ghost Zone and destroyed the portals in that dimension. Once they were moved, things progressed really quickly. Several people grew into their liminality in the ectoplasmic dense environment and many things were discovered and moves made.

Danny, Sam and Tucker all began training to take up their full duties once they come of age. Paulina became a dragonoid, and trained her dragon powers with Dora. Dash turned out to be a Changling, and caught the attention of the Fae King Obridon, who adopted him and made him a member of their court. It was discovered that Kwan was a rare male Kumiho, with his grandmother being an especially powerful spirit amongst the East Asian spirits, and was acknowledged and taken into his household as a proper member. Wes had loudly proclaimed himself to be Danny's Kismesis (YES I SAID IT), much to the confusion of many ghosts and the embarrassment of a few others. Once it was explained exactly what a kismesis was, Fright Knight was so delighted by the proclamation that he immediately took him under his wing. After all no rival and right hand of the King could be as lacking in fighting ability as he. Valerie also received training under Fright Knight as one of his commanders. Amity was firmly established as pert of the King's personal Haunt and lair, and became a noble land. Engagements were all documented, finalized and sealed.

Once they all came of age, Danny was crowned King of the Infinite Realms. His wedding ceremony was held soon after, and all his spouses had their positions secure and established. His Court had been formed, consisting of his Family, his Harem, his Haunt and his most trusted allies.

Harem members:

Queens: Sam and Tucker (yay everlasting trio!)

Consorts: Paulina, Dash, Valerie, Kwan, Star, Wes

Concubines: All his other classmates

Now this was supposed to be a DC x DP au specifically, but unfortunately i don't know enough about DC to write something extensively regarding it. However, here are some fun prompts i thought of;

His Consorts (i like to think Paulina and Dash) Visit the DC universe for diplomatic ties and the meeting happens in Gotham

One of Batman's children catches the eye of one of his consorts (or other court member!) and they want his permission to bring them into the Harem/Marry them into the court

Child adoption bcs that's always fun

Incredibly powerful members of the Harem/Court visit their earth and cause chaos unknowingly, etc, etc.

Alternatively you can make it it's own thing with other characters/fandom crossovers! If you decide to take this and write or make something with it, please tag me! I want to read it all!

[redfluffz]

Queen, how did the Angels feel when they hit Lucifer, their basically brother, instead of Lily with the spears. And how long did it take lucifer to heal? And did Lilith feel guilty for him essentially taking the bullet for her? Sorry for the long ask!

Don't be sorry! I love answering all of your questions! ❤️✨️

And sorry for the long wait! I was thinking about how to answer this and here is what I came up with.

So I have a rough view on how the fall happened.

But first I want to answer your question shortly:

The others were scared and frightened, except for Mike - he was in rage.

Lily was frightened too. She thought he died. She was indeed blaming herself for it.

The wounds never healed fully and the pain faded slowly away. Luc had to endure so much.

Now ... how I structured the fall. Looong version. ✨️

First of all the cause of Luc fall isn't about his forbidden love. He had to deal with this problematic long before. Also Luc and Lily have different impeaches.

Luc is accused for his actions with the apple, but his punishment is just to go into exile. Where he can "think" about his actions and after a period of time, he can reenter heaven. So no spears, no death, no pain... just exile.

Lily instead is punished with death.

So Mike didn't give in to Lucifers beggings. The spears targeted Lily and Luc drags her away. And the only way out if this is the place where he is supposed to go. And so they fall with the spears following them.

But Luc protects Lily with his wings. That's why he isn't able to fly and crashing is inevitable. But Lily survives the fall and Mike is angered like never before.

So he tries to kill her again. But Luc is aware of the second attack and with his last angelic powers he teleports her away. And get fully hit by spears which are targeting him now. (Cause their originally target is gone).

And now I thought about the elevator which connects the seven rings. What if the hole/tunnel for the elevator was caused by Lucifer fall/crash through all of the seven rings?

Funfact. The angelic spears are using the angelic energy from Lucifer. They drain him. When he fall into one of Sloths seas...? He is contaminated with demon power. And that's how he got demonic magic and his beast form, cause he has no strength to fight this demonic magic. Hes just too injured.

When he draged himself out of this water, he starts searching for Lily, not aware that there are seven rings and she is still in Pride, while he is in Sloth. And he wanders around and suddenly stumbled across a small group of frightened little demons.

And that's how the sins met.

Funfact Leviathan will come later and they both already met each other.

So that's a "short" description how I picture the fall. Hope it all make sense.

Have a nice day!

And thanks for asking! ✨️