#my own enemy

[webweabings]

MY GREATEST ENEMY IS NO ONE BUT MYSELF

“Adoration of the Mystic Lamb”, by Hubert van Eyck and Jan van Eyck (1432); // “Juda’s Kiss”, by Gustave Doré; // “Briseis Restored to Achilles in his Tent Discovers the Body of Patroculus”, Léon Cogniet (1815); // “Ophelia”, by John Everett Millais (1851)

[stylistic-nightmare]

Immolation - My Own Enemy

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[yosoyveneno]

Yo y mi gran costumbre de siempre ir en contra de todo

Quisiera dormir mucho, mucho y no despertar más

Y a la vez llevo mi sueño al límite, sólo dormir hasta sentirme pendejamente cansada

[winkle-pickers]

Covenant

[hinamie]

get these boys summer uniforms and cold beverages Stat

[lara-cairncross]

fae Donnie my strange little woodland critter…

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[ahfrickenfrick]

Damian gets into a fight at school, he comes out with just a few scratches.

He’s suspended for three days due to the other boy having a broken nose, but he won’t tell anyone why he and the other boy got into the spat.

Tim finds him sitting on the ground in the library, sketching something from a book. he gives tim a glance, before continuing his work.

He decides to pull out his laptop and work side by side with Damian, getting lost in his own little world for over an hour before Damian says anything.

“… the fool tried saying you all are beneath the Wayne name. He said unfavorable things about Richard, Jason should’ve stayed missing, that Duke deserved to be in the ‘stuck in the system’. That— brat, said he hopes the tabloids are true in their current rumors after your coming out. He deserved far more than a broken nose.”

Damian set down his pencil, trembling with frustration and anger. As Tim felt his heart warm.

He gently wrapped his arms around Damian, pressing a quick kiss to the kids temple before he could react.

“Thank you Dames, I know Bruce is going to have to be a parent here and tell you why it’s bad when he gets back, but thank you. Just… be careful, we all are used to these comments, and can take care of ourselves. But thank you anyways.”

Damian’s cheeks were flushed, shrugging his shoulders to try and hide his face, but other than that, he let Tim drape himself over him.

Bruce finds them an hour later, looking for Damian to talk about what happens, but instead finds the two brothers curled up on the floor, sound asleep.

[sbeana]

the pool scene

[satanasvincit]

SilIDA

[bietrofastimoff23]

the funny thing is that aegon, bedridden, is still more successful at making friends than aemond.

[skimmeh]

Doodles of he from offline

He forgets to stick his tongue back in, then complains about having a dry tongue, confused.

[embrace-your-illithid]

heere she is..… my illithid tav creature....… my sunshine goth pink sparkle princess paladin.… naive -2 int will drop a divine smite a-bomb on whoever threatens her lynchpin bf…... loyal lapdog to the very end, won't break her oath so she is the most cringefail starving mindflayer in toril.... Qurrn ✨🦑☀️

[mmmairon]

Home was the only place left.

Prints

[urdadsceilingfan]

YES I LOVE REVERSE PORTAL AUS!

And honestly I can only IMAGINE the sheer amount of guilt Ford will feel once that portal is turned on and Stan steps out of it alive and well and missing an ARM. The guilt he feels knowing that Stan was alive the whole time and he never turned on the portal, not even once to save him. The guilt would eat him up, seeing the twin brother that he knew, hollow, traumatized and changed forever. And what would be even worse is Stan forgiving him upon seeing him.

Most would say Stan would be angry. But honestly Stan is the type of guy that would blame himself, he’d take one look at Ford and hug him cuz he missed Ford, and that makes Ford feel that much worse, cuz Stan should be enraged, he should hate him, because Ford hates himself. He’s convinced himself all these years that his brother was dead, cuz it was easier to think that, when in reality he was just telling himself that so he wouldn’t have to face the guilt and shame of choosing the world over his brother, his family.

When he knew if the roles were reversed Stan would do everything to get him back, because he loved him that much, the world be damned, he would get him back. Because that was Stan and Ford realizes with horror that hadn’t been him, for 30 years that hadn’t been him, and he feels like the worst human in the world.

AGHHHH THE ANGST ITS IN MY BRAINNN

I’m so sorry I completely forgot this was in my drafts

Throughout Stanleys travel he’s constantly thinking “wow he [Stanford] would have loved this place” or “ I always ruin everything, maybe this time I won’t get in anyone’s way” Because through everything he held onto his family as we can see through the years he lived in his car and never fully blamed Ford for it

Stanley would definitely be upset at Ford when he realizes nobody has been in the basement since the incident and even more so that Ford never even tried to open the portal again,In my head Stan did punch Ford after Ford started rambling asking if he was dreaming

“Stanley? No it’s, No it can’t be you, I must be having some sort of fever dream-“

*gets punched*

“Did that feel real enough for you”

I believe it would take time to forgive his brother but he definitely doesn’t hate Ford either

The sheer GUILT ripping Ford apart he almost can’t stand looking at his brother after his return, wishing Stan would just yell or punch him again instead of looking at him with a half smile or complaining about how high the prices have gotten

All of the twins efforts to get him to have a decent sleep schedule during the summer is thrown out the window But why? Stanleys back and safe now! He’s alive he should be having the most peaceful sleep of his life!

In one moment Ford finds himself back the night his brother was kicked out, their no, his room was quiet and empty with no loud snores to remind him he’s not alone and that Stan is right there for him but now Stanley is back! Only he doesn’t snore anymore, pretty sure he doesn’t sleep much at all anymore, really sure he isn’t the same anymore

Both of them made mistakes and ones not more at fault then the other but they each carry self blame