royialty

[royialty]

tony watches clint from across the room, arms crossed as he takes in the archer’s usual calm demeanor, the easy smirk he wears as he twirls an arrow between his fingers. clint perched on the edge of a chair like he doesn’t belong anywhere else, all quiet confidence and a little too much swagger. tony's not sure if it’s the bow or the man that makes him so damn frustrating (maybe it’s both) he's always been the kind of guy who never asks for anything, but always manages to be the one who’s right when it counts —— a personal edge against the invincible iron man. ❝ not gonna lie, barton, i was expecting at least some kind of meltdown after that last mission. the whole world nearly came apart, and you’re sitting here like you just won the lottery. ❞

@archestype

[royialty]

dr. grey watches his hand closely, eyes narrowing as his fingers refuse to curl, and she feels a familiar tightness coil in her chest. there’s something about it, the way his hand moves that she know warrants a scan. (should she page torres? now? but callie and arizona are out with sophia...she bites her lip, putting in the order she's technically not allowed to call). she straightens, her fingers instinctively reaching for her stethoscope, even though she doesn’t need it for what’s unfolding. the way his hand moves—or rather, doesn’t move—makes her pulse quicken, just slightly, as she mentally rechecks the anatomy, the muscles, the nerves. she pauses before speaking again, her gaze sharp, but kind, as she steadies herself. ❝ It's not great, to say the least. ❞ she answers, her voice calm but with a hint of something sharper beneath. ❝ — your job, can i — i mean, this is strange. how does this happen? what exactly do you do? ❞

lips purse slightly at the comment, doubting the truth behind it. but nonetheless, he doesn't argue and settles in for the assessment. per her prompt he shifts his arm slightly to rest it against his thigh. jayce h u m s a short laugh, his lips shifting into a small smile, “ i don't want to say it happens often, that just makes it sound like i'm bad at my job ... but i can't say it's irregular, either. ” his reply is amused before attempting to curl his fingers, when the smile drops slightly. instead of his fingers curling i n w a r d s , they only shift as much as his brows furrow in confusion at the LACK of a fist. his eyes widen slightly as glances to her, attempting to read her face.

“ i'm guessing that's not great ? ” jayce asks, attempting to stay positive. his fingers DID still seem to work ... they just didn't seem to want to make a fist. more so hold a softball or something of similar size. he drops his gaze from the doctor's face and looks back to his hand, attempting to curl his fingers a little further.

[royialty]

❝ you’re a great host, you know that? ❞ amir says, the words coming out lighter than he expects, but warm, genuine. before emery can escape, he gives a gentle tug on the arm —  the mix between a hello and a i missed you. (she's beautiful as ever, and the grad student can only pray thankfully to god for letting him finish the chemical experiments in time to make time to stop by this party. a little text to the organization that he's not taking any jobs tonight and now here he is, in front of her, like he'd practiced.) the atmosphere every bit as magical as the holidays, his brown eyes pouring into hers. ❝ a championship? come on, you think you can beat me? i'm willing to bet money on myself! ❞

“ thanks for coming, ” she says as she finally manages to make her way through the crowded bar, a glass loosely between fingers. her free hand reaches to lightly touch his forearm, giving it a gentle s q u e e z e in greeting before turning her body to face the room at his side. “ water, sodas, seltzers, beer and wine are free at the bar until midnight, ” she explains, pointing to the bar, and then her hand shifting to point as as she speaks, “ darts are in the back, and there will be a championship. i think starting soon ... i should probably c h e c k on that. there's also some card games, people are scattered playing those. and the music is on a playlist, but you should be able to add any songs on the playlist over there. ”

@royialty sent ❄️ for a specified starter for amir.

[royialty]

the morning is still and cold, the kind of quiet that stretches across the terrace like a held breath. clarissa steps onto the marble, her sandals scuffing faintly, the plate in her hands trembling just enough for her to notice. figs and honey—something he once liked, though she can’t imagine the boy who used to chase her through the vineyards caring for such things anymore. not with the empire heavy on his shoulders. icarus sits at the head of the table, draped in gold and white, the rising sun catching in his hair, in the rings on his fingers, in the goblet he holds lazily in one hand. his gaze is sharp, cutting toward the horizon as if daring the world to challenge him. even in the soft light of morning, he looks every inch the emperor. cruel. resplendent. untouchable. clarissa sets the plate down carefully, her movements deliberate. ❝ you told me not to be late. ❞ she hesitates, standing by the chair. her fingers curl at her sides, but her voice stays steady. ❝ i thought you might like company this morning. ❞

@dusklune clarissa & icarus.

[royialty]

noor exhales a soft laugh, the sound barely audible as she leans against the counter, her scrub top still rumpled from the day’s chaos. she’s tired—bone-deep in a way only surgery can carve into a person—but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips. ❝ skating’s ambitious for someone who’s been on her feet since five a.m., don’t you think? ❞ she points out, her voice tinged with the dry humor emery knows so well. her dark eyes lift, meeting emery’s with a look that’s almost apologetic but not quite. noor isn’t the apologizing type, especially not for things like this. not for working, not for showing up tired. she shifts her weight, crossing her arms, the tension in her shoulders softening just a fraction as she takes in emery’s playful gesture. ❝ a night in? you're learning! ❞ noor crosses her arms, her voice warm, if still threaded with exhaustion. she lets the words linger for a second, her gaze softening as she adds, ❝ only if you promise to pick something truly, irredeemably bad. i'm thinking reality TV levels of brain-rotting. I don’t want to think about anything remotely intelligent tonight after that five hour whipple. ❞

“ so i'll take it that it's a no for ice skating? ” she asks, lips pursed slightly as she attempts to gage the mood. it was hardly the first time plans would change. between the two of them, noor was by far the one with the most pressing schedule. and emery enjoyed the f l e x i b i l i t y of being her own boss so ... she could accommodate what ever was needed. “ so what about ... hot chocolate and trashy tv ? ” she offers the alternative plans easily, turning to face the other woman. her hands raised in the air as if weighing the two options, favoring the latter.

while she knew it was very possible the plans would just completely fall through, if noor was tired enough ... she could hope that they could have at l e a s t have a relaxed night in. that was the crux of working for yourself. it was very easy to spend a LOT of your time alone, and sometimes even doing nothing with your people was needed.

@royialty sent ❄️ for a specified starter for noor.

[royialty]

lexie pauses for a moment, her hands steady despite the rush of irritation that flares in her chest. she’s heard it before—the same reckless, impassioned spiel from buzzy, but this time it feels different, somehow. she doesn’t look up immediately, focusing instead on the precise stitching she’s making, allowing the silence to sit in the air. when she finally lifts her eyes to meet his, there’s a mixture of warmth and exasperation in her expression. ❝ buzzy . . .❞ she starts, her voice soft but firm. ❝ i get it. i do. you want to make a difference, to be the hero, to do the big thing. but you don’t get to just throw your body in front of danger because it feels right. you’re not invincible. no one is. ❞ her hand moves to adjust his arm, her fingers brushing over the wound, making sure it’s properly cleaned, and though she’s gentle, there’s something in the way she handles him that’s a bit sharper, a little more direct. she doesn’t need to say the words aloud—he knows she’s tired. she’s exhausted from long shifts, from people who think their work is more important than their health, from people like him who keep pushing their limits because they can’t accept a moment of weakness. (from worrying about the people she loves. like him.) ❝ you’re right about one thing, ❞ she continues, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly, though it’s not a smile. it’s something else, something that only he would understand. ❝ do love this job. and yes, it’s dangerous, and I put myself in harm’s way every single day. but i do it because it matters. because people depend on me. and you’re right, if someone told me to stop, i couldn’t. i’m not built for anything else. ❞ she hesitates, eyes narrowing just a bit. ❝ but that’s different. you’re not me. you have choices. you could walk away. you could let someone else do the running and take care of the rest. but— ❞ she stops, sighing as she finishes a stitch, looking into his eyes and waiting for him to respond, to convince her.

another day, another injury... but at least there's a friendly face peering down at him as buzzy winces through the pain. all of this adventuring and risking his life has led him here, this gurney, and @royialty looming over him as she cleans and tends to the wound on his arm. this could have gone way worse, lexie warns him, and buzzy, swallowing hard as he braces for discomfort, weakly nods along. "i know. i know. sometimes you just gotta take the risk, though. throw yourself into it for the good of humanity. they were stealing a priceless artifact," he goes on, glancing away from lexie and her diligent needlework. "they took off with it — right before closing time and everything, and i'm the better runner between shawky and i. i'm faster than he is; i had to catch up to them before the got away."

lexie is kind about this, but stern. she wants him to be careful. she wants him to stay out of trouble, not end up here in the ER with a large wound in his arm and a bit of blood on his face, and buzzy understands. he just can't agree to her terms.

"you love this career, right?" out of nowhere. buzzy prompts her for the truth as he tests the mobility of his arm, eyes scrunched. "this is your dream, right? working here. helping people. and it's dangerous, too — you've got so many lives at risk each day. their lives are in your hands." his gaze darts up to lexie's face, studying her expression. "if someone told you to stop, you couldn't. this means too much to you to just give up and find another role. same with me. even if i end up injured... i have to do this." a small smile. "i know you mean well, and you're tired of patching me up, but... i can't stop. i'll be back to see you next week, i bet, and we'll do this whole thing all over again." now his smile grows. "but you're the best, so. i'm always in good hands over here with you."

[royialty]

noor's smile is light as a feather, but there's a knowing warmth in her eyes as she watches him—his awkwardness, the way he tries to deflect with humor, all of it reminding her a little too much of herself when she first stepped into this city, hoping to be seen, to be recognized for the work she does. she leans in a smidge, long fingers cradling the coffee cup in her hands, letting it warm her nearly broken fingers back to life as she listens. ❝ yeah, i was second—sorry, third row on the left ❞ she remembers watching him, in awe. ❝ honestly, I thought I'd have to fight off a crowd of your fans or something —— not sit across from you like this. it's like you had a secret identity or something. ❞ her smile widens a little as she notices the way he tries to cover his unease with jokes, but she lets it slide—she’s been there too many times herself. (re: a mess in her first surgical or...) ❝ as for surgery, that's me. dr. saleem, though just a resident. ❞ her eyes dart down to his knees, laughing. ❝ plastic surgery? hm, i have to say that's not my area of expertise, but i'd never rule it out for you! i might have some tips on how to keep those knees from getting any worse, if you're really set on getting taller. ❞ she teases him, standing up on her tiptoes to create the illusion of being taller than the young surgeon she is. ❝ why would you need to change anything about yourself? watching you on that play was . . . wonderful. you just have that raw talent everyone wants. ❞

it's   been   a   dream   come   true   getting   to   act   on   stage   ,   a   feat   mason   had   almost   given   up   when   parts   didn't   just   fall   into   his   lap   the   moment   he   graduated   college.   admittedly   ,   he   was   much   too   impatient   &   focused   on   his   past   accomplishments   in   theatre   classes   to   truly   take   the   time   to   take   each   audition   seriously   ,   but   he's   learned   &   done   better   since   that   time   &   all   that   hard   work   seems   to   finally   be   paying   off.   he's   on   the   stage   &   he   loves   working   six   nights   a   week   ,   loves   that   he   gets   to   be   on   a   stage   with   a   bright   light   shining   on   him   while   people   clap   &   sing   his   praises.   the   attention   is   great   ,   but   it's   the   act   of   telling   stories   that   mason   loves   the   most   ,   having   always   been   a   bit   of   a   people   pleaser   &   wanting   them   to   have   people   leaving   feeling   entertained   &   maybe   even   happy   with   his   performance.   the   thing   about   being   a   theatre   actor   though   ?   there   is   a   possibility   you   may   be   noticed   ,   especially   if   it's   your   goal   to   create   joy   in   others   ,   so   he's   a   little   surprised   to   find   this   woman   at   the   coffee   shop   staring   at   him   so   curiously   ,   unable   to   do   much   but   smile in return   &   wait   to   see   if   she   responds.

the   woman   mentions   seeing   his   show   ,   as   well   as   something   about   surgery.   she's   a   surgeon   ?   mason's   head   tilts   a   bit   as   his   smile   grows   on   his   face   ,   a   hand   offered   in   greeting   ,   though   he   isn't   sure   if   maybe   that's   a   little   too   formal.   shit   ,   he's   not   really   good   with   being   recognized.   aside   from   the   stage   door   ,   this   is   actually   a   first   for   him   out   in   the   real   world.   ❝   ah   jeez   ,   you   saw   that   ?   ❞   mason   laughs   ,   a teasing lilt in his tone.   ❝   i'm   glad   you   enjoyed   yourself.   for   a   second   there   ,   i   thought   you   were   gonna   say   something   not   so   nice   ━━   you   were   staring   at me for   quite   a   while.   ❞   more   teasing   ,   mason   laughing   lightly   ,   raising   his   cup   up   for   a   sip.   ❝   guess   i   uh   .   .   .   don't   need   to   introduce   myself   since   you   know   who   i   am   ,   but   you   mentioned   something   about   surgery   ?   you   a   doctor   ?   ooh   ,   maybe   you   can   recommend   me   a   good   plastic   surgeon   ?   thinking   about   getting   my   knees   done   so   i   can   be   taller.   ❞   he   winks.   ❝   i'm   kidding   by   the   way.   ❞

[royialty]

inspired by demetrius, consider this a starter call! if we haven't talked, i'll reach out about plotting or perhaps through our characters into action. i'm happy to facilitate any connection building. i just asked that you please please specify muse (bonus points if its an original character!)

[royialty]

Diane Kruger as Helen of Troy TROY (2004) dir. Wolfgang Petersen

[royialty]

ancient lore ocs you are calling me...

[royialty]

the rain felt colder than it should have, seeping through the thin fabric of clarissa's silk cloak, dripping down the back of her neck. (she's always hated the rain in rome—it feels too heavy, like the skies are mourning something no one remembers, mourning a person she once was) she knows atlas will laugh at her for it. he always does. you belong in the sun, princess, he’ll say, his voice that perfect blend of teasing and sincere. not skulking through alleys like some tragic lost dove. ❝ don’t be late,❞ she mutters under her breath, imagining him already waiting at the fountain. her words fog up in the cold air, vanishing as quickly as they come. she's never minded waiting for him, not really, but tonight feels different. like the world is holding its breath. ❝ just one night,❞ she whispers to herself, a soft vow that no one else will hear. ❝ just one night without visions. without prophecies.❞ i don’t need them tonight. not when atlas is waiting.

@dusklune atlas & clarissa.

[royialty]

MAY CALAMAWY Madame Arabia December 2024

[royialty]

thinking of may calamawy's role in gladiator 2 and how she was cut because of literal anti-palestinian sentiment. i have never seen the movie and i never will but i'm tempted to make a blog for this character on pure spite

[royialty]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ I will / have travel(ed) far beyond the path of reason.

[royialty]

your prince charming:

my prince charming:

[royialty]

THIS TIME MARY JANE'S IN THE SPOTLIGHT !

independent & private mary jane watson of the amazing spider-man (1964) comic run. written by itza ( twenty5, she/her).

[royialty]

❝ you sound . . . surprised, ❞ a soft laugh escapes her lips, her fingers threading painstakingly slowly through his hair as she looks down at him, the rain beating gently against the windows. ❝ — like this moment is going to end in a second. it's not. ❞ rounds have killed them both, the cardiothoracic surgeon that duals as her boyfriend for the first time ever, seems . . . relaxed? as if letting himself sink further into the quiet they’ve built. ❝ you're allowed peace. you've always deserved it. ❞ to the man who's operated hundreds, all she can think of is how idris should stay frozen like this, especially after the cases they've had. the patients they've lost. it's been unnerving to say the least.

The rain falls steadily outside, a soft, constant patter against the window. Idris eyes are half-closed, the sound of it a gentle backdrop to the warmth of Noor's lap beneath his head. He lets his body sink into the couch, the world outside blurring into nothing but the sound of the storm and the rhythm of her fingers running through his hair. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t feel the urge to move, to think, to do anything. It’s just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet of her apartment, her touch grounding him in a way he didn’t know he needed. His heartbeat slows, hitting bradycardia levels as he just takes a deep breath next to him. "Right now, this is perfect." Idris shifts in his position, sighing contently as he stares into Noor's crystal glowing brown eyes.

@royialty short and sweet