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batstorm93672 · 2 years

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Robin swooped down from the rooftop, carrying a precious item in hand and he opened the window. Sneaking in quietly, he placed the item down on the desk, making his way out once more he awaited.

Jason finally got back from work, it was tiring and he's just glad to be able to sleep or read a book. Or he was going to until he spotted something wrapped on his desk.

His first guess was a letter from Batman, a villain or Dickhead. Honestly the second option seems more nicer. He picked it up and it was entirely something different he never thought. A drawing, a painting specifically of Red Hood and... Robin the details were stunning and Jason didn't know whether he should frame it or send it to a museum. Framing it sounds better. At the bottom of the painting was a cursive signature, Damian T. Wayne

Jason held the painting as he walked to the window to see Robin sitting on a rooftop looking at him. Jason smiled a bit and Robin stood up, nodding before grappling his way. Jason inspected the painting and looked at the back and a single word made his heart melt.

Akhi

Shit he was a brat, but he was sweet at times.

"Hey Dickhead, did you hear? I got a new painting in my apartment"

"That's cool, I got my own as well"

"Oh really? Well mine was crafted by Damian"

Dick raised an eyebrow "As was mine"

"He drew us in costume going through the night"

"He drew me hugging him and upon closer inspection you can see the exact little flick of a smile gracing Damian's face"

"With mine his mask makes him look upset, but once you look you can see the joy he has for being Robin and being alongside me"

Before the two could continue, Damian in his full Robin suit entered the room with another wrapped box in his hands.

"DAMIAN!" The two shouted at his presence and then gave each other small glares. Damian looked like a deer caught in headlights "Todd, Grayson, how might I help you?"

"Which painting is better, mine or Dicks?"

"I... beg your pardon?"

"We want to know which painting you like better, Jason insists it's his but I know the truth. He's being bitter"

"Oh. Well, what I could describe as better would be..." Damian turned slightly red as the two awaited his response "The one in the Main Hall, now if you don't mind I have to go see someone" With that Damian left and the two rushed to the Main Hall.

"He obviously has me on it!"

"In your dreams Dick"

They arrived to see a massive painting, it looked like what was meant to be the family portrait, everyone together happy as can be. Not just the old Robins either, Cassandra, Barbara and Duke were in it. Heck even Alfred was in it, everyone was given amazing details in their faces. Even Damian looked happy in the painting and beside the painting were the regular side profile pictures of everyone smiling with their names to label who was who.

"I... gotta agree with the kid, I think this might be my favorite"

"He's grown so much, I'm proud of him"

About ten minutes later, Tim opened the door and was smiling "I got a real cool painting at my place now!"

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whumpfish · 9 months

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Just finished a re-listen of Master -or- Your Vice Is A Locked TARDIS And Only I Have The Key

I am dying, d y i n g to know if the Sergio Martino echoes were intentional or a sublime cosmic coincidence because if I could name two things that I love beyond words and would never in life expect to combine, it would be giallo and Doctor Who

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birlwrites · 1 year

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i really do love reading your rambles, you always have the most unique and interesting ideas!! your writing on magic and how it works is especially fascinating and i was wondering if you could talk more on how it works - anything to do with magic really

SOUL MAGIC TIME

ok let's talk about metaphor, not in the sense that it's usually used in english, but in the sense that the mckinnons use it behind closed doors. the word metaphor comes from ancient greek and means, in a word, transference - which is how it's been mentioned very briefly in chapter 19 of ttdl, thanks to miles mckinnon

so what is metaphor? the mckinnons specifically use it to mean transference of the soul. it's the centerpiece of what they study (soul and death magic). it occurs at death and during the dementor's kiss (although several mckinnons are researching whether the dementor's kiss can *really* be termed metaphor or if it needs its own term because it's something removing the soul as opposed to the soul leaving. metaphor implies giving, but then *cousin madeline voice* what about metaphor in the case of murder, can that really be called consensual, and then *lord mckinnon voice* fair point but what is murder in the first place, and then *marlene's dad voice* uncle martin i thought we settled that two years ago, and then *cousin marigold who died in 1853 but does a good job of keeping up with slang voice* these things are worth revisiting aren't they?? and on and on and on)

now, there's also semimetaphor, which is a necessary step in the process of creating a horcrux. just splitting your soul via murder isn't enough - then you have to put half of that soul IN something, and that's where metaphor comes in! but you also have to hold on to the other half. making a horcrux is intentional semimetaphor - there are also unintentional types (which is to say, an interrupted dementor's kiss, except for all the issues about terminology with the dementor's kiss, repeat argument from above but now add in a few more people)

intentional metaphor (by which i mean *complete* metaphor) is a necessary step to become a ghost! becoming a ghost requires a very specific mindset and part of that mindset involves a willingness to release your mind and soul from your body, which is why so many ghosts are people who died scared, but the mckinnons have this process down to a SCIENCE so anyone who wants to become a ghost after their death only needs to consult the appropriate sources

the mckinnons are also very interested in death, but they very much study it from a perspective of what's going on with the soul - still, they know more about death than pretty much anyone else, which is partly due to all their metaphor research, partly due to their ghosts, and partly due to their necromantic practices!

#the blacks think centuries of burying their important family members on the grounds of black manor #make THEM chill with the notion of death???#pls the mckinnons could eat them for breakfast #not really because the blacks would go down fighting but like.#the mckinnons have this particular variety of cheerful and indeed scholarly morbidity #that goes over and above the blacks' 'death comes for everyone :|' mindset #should i make an inbox tag #dark lord wip #atfhv worldbuilding

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theosjunkdrawer · 2 years

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flora (from haunting of bly manor) will stand in nature and every adult that catches sight of her immediately runs up to her and carries her somewhere else. someone let this girl enjoy the pond and the trees

#ohp its me again #hobm #the haunting of bly manor #flora wingrave #i could gif them all but whos got the time #its gotta at Least every other episode #she will Stand 🧍‍♀️ and everyone is like #GIRL WHAT??? STOP STOP STOP 🛑🛑🛑 IM PICKINT U UP COME DRINK SOME TEA #like??? she needs vitamin D!!!!!!!!!!!

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theheadlessgroom · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/708559243729649664/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

Randall felt his stomach flip over when he saw just how wide her eyes were, denoting the anxiety chewing her up inside, nagging her, making her worry for the safety of her career, which seemed right on the cusp of blossoming...it made him desperately want to reach out and take her hand in his, to gently pat it in an effort to comfort her, the way he’d seen some wealthy patrons do so to their wives...

…but he resisted that urge (certain his cold, bony hands would do nothing to put her at ease), instead offering her what he hoped was a soothing smile as he said, “D-Don’t worry, Emily, i-it’ll be alright...I have a very good feeling about your auspicious debut-I have a feeling that, as soon as you step out onto that stage and make your grand debut as Elissa...La Constance is going to be the furthest thing from everyone’s minds.”

Emily was a shoe-in for the role: The role called for regality, yes, confidence, yes, but it also called for more than that. It called for a variety of emotions beyond that-longing, pensiveness, determination, passion...all emotions La Constance couldn’t muster for the life of her. She was convinced that just strutting around in her regal finery, trilling over the lines she hardly bothered to learn qualified as performing, and although she coasted just fine on this ability, it was time for someone new. It was time for someone who could truly bring the Queen to life...and that person was Emily. And he knew in his heart of hearts that, as soon as the audience heard and saw her for the first time, they would forget all about La Constance, and would be singing her praises as soon as the curtains drew to a close.

#((see i think constance's lack of ambiguity is what dooms her as a character! there's no room for interpretation))#((which makes her stick out like a sore thumb against the rest of the mansion! one of the things that i really like about the mansion))#((is how open to interpretation it is! there's nothing concrete there; you're free to just dream up whatever you'd like-and the fans have!))#((everyone's got their own interpretation of the mansion and its denizens and none of them are wrong! it's completely open-ended))#((and i find that a lot of fun! sure i like the more story-centric; more concrete 'phantom manor' but i just really do enjoy))#((how open the u.s. mansions are to the rider's imagination! so constance seems REALLY out of place))#((next to the others! she has a full canon name; a backstory; there's very little wiggle room in terms of interpretation))#((so unlike the original bride you can't come up with your own characterization/name/history! it just sucks the fun out of it all!))#((and she really is just annoying as hell; like if you got stuck next to the bride; you wanted to sink down in your doombuggy))#((because she's just THAT frightening; with constance; you just want the ride to continue just so you don't have to listen to her!))#outofhatboxes #beatingheart-bride #V:Phantasm of the Mansion

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thatsnotahoodjason · 2 years

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harlivy and riddlebird being wlw/mlm solidarity and being best friends (with selina and two face).

all of them absolutely despise the joker (apart from two face so he's a bit less close with the group than the others).

but im imagining selina and harley knowing batman's identity so they find it absolutely hilarious when harvey goes on about missing bruce and then complaining about batman. and bruce talking about missing harvey and then complaining about two face.

also the group gossiping about their crushes on batman (apart from ivy who just rolls her eyes). and harvey and selina's crushes on bruce!!

and then harley brings jason to the group one night and he's even more disgusted than ivy when they start gushing about batman's abs. he would refuse to ever go again... but they spent a good hour or so making fun of joker so he wouldn't say no to hanging out with them again

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arcanesarts · 2 years

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Before and After

#artists on tumblr #my ocs #my oc #in a manor of speaking #willow's art #flashing #flashing image #flashing lights #gif #if it needs any other warning tags lemme know #my beloved gamers.....#the before and after is all related to amedeo being a bitch ILASUHDAILUSDH before The Incident. after the incident #only one of them died don't worry <3 #and then everyone else stopped coming #i prommy i'll make a happy follow up to this some day i just don't currently have the ability to draw that i need certain designs first

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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🎧 (go rest in some form D:< )

the cavity in my heart tearing me apart, now it's the one and only thing that proves you were here with me before you'll never know how much I feel empty inside, my heart is torn into a thousand pieces, leave it be it's alright

#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; through the glass (asks)#LAUGHING AT HOW THIS WAS SENT LIKE WEEKS AGO AND YET I AM STILL UP TOO LATE))#ok but this whole song is basically about not even being able to remember someone you miss desperately))#and uh. yeah))#the da willingly chooses to fade into the narratives mark and the entity has created for them because the agony of their reality))#is too much to bare))#but that doesnt stop it lingering!))#its too much a part of them. the cracks are carved into their soul and they can never fully escape it))#theyll always be alone and theyll always know it even if only in the most vaguest of ways))#it only takes the slightest of reminders for it all to come apart unravelling and their situation to become clear to them))#and every time they choose to go back into the story rather than live knowing theres no one coming for them))#and nothing to do but wait in an abandoned manor in a broken mirror that everyones forgotten about))#; dreamingofmuses

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harmcityherald · 5 months

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a warm manor

#the manor #and dinner is coming make yourself at home #a safe space for everyone #even you

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etfrin · 5 months

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⤷❝Can't be Shared | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | somnophilia, mentions of prostitution (Snow was going to 'share' you) cunnilingus, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), possessive af Snow, impact play (he slaps your thigh once), ruined orgasm (you do cum in the end) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow was going to share you with the elite of the Capitol but changed his mind halfway through only to have his way with you and make you the First Lady of Panem

⇢☾A/N: hehe, the longest fic I have writing so far, hope y'all enjoy this and reblog ;)

He thought he would be okay with it. He was sure he would be okay with it. But he wasn't. Snow's blood boiled when the rich elitist of the capitol had begun to touch you, whisper you praises, and whatnot. The only thing that was going in his mind was his, his, his.

When had he gotten so attached, he wasn't supposed to be. Letting them touch you, and play with you was a strategic decision to get them hooked and you weren't meant to be his Queen but something had changed. Something snapping in him when the Capitols’ richest eyed you like a meal.

His jaw was clenched and he cleared his throat, “I changed my mind.” He said, “I am not sharing after all.”

You are his. His property. His bird locked in his cage and now his Queen. He pulled you closer, away from prying hands. He glared, memorizing the face of any and everyone displeased, thinking of plans of how to dispose of them quickly because even if briefly they had touched you that was a sin. No one taints the Queen but a King.

He cordially finishes dinner, keeping in mind he was a president, a newly appointed one at that even if he wanted to he couldn't drag you into his room and have his way with you. But he wanted to. His free hand is on your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave a small bruise. His hold gets tighter the more he has to smile pretty and act polite.

You hadn't said a word, you weren't sure what to say. You were ready to be shared, used, and then discarded. Snow had told you of this beforehand, but he had changed his mind and you were grateful.

Even as he marked you, made you whimper with his grip, giving your thigh a warning squeeze to be quiet. You were relieved that he decided not to share. You were his, you liked that you were his.

Dinner took longer than you would have preferred, but when it finally came to an end, Snow leaned into you and whispered, “Be on my bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, my bird.”

You didn't reply. You get up, walking into his room, heat choking your veins and making your pussy ache and wet. You close the door as you reach the master bedroom of the manor.

Going into his closet you picked on a red shirt, knowing that it would match your skin tone well. You had taken everything else off, your panties and previous clothes on the floor. You were in full display as you didn't even button up the shirt. Your breasts are exposed to the cold air making your nipples harden.

You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. One minute bleeds into ten and you laid down on the bed. One hour turns to several and your eyes close up. Sleep catches up with you.

You woke up with a gasp. Sleep at the edge of your mind but your mouth lets out a moan wantonly as several things hit you at once.

One. Snow was here.

Two. Snow was between your thighs, his hands keeping your thighs wide and spread for him.

Three. His lips were on your clit, sucking it vigorously making you arch your back and wanting to flinch away from the intensity.

And you tried to move away, your bud sensitive more with pain than in pleasure. How long was Snow like this, sucking at your clit. Your pussy was now impossibly slick and throbbing, wanting to be filled.

A slap was delivered onto your thigh, a hitched moan leaving your lips because of the delicious pain. “Behave,” Snow sneers at you, his blue eyes looking ravenous, his face smeared with your arousal. This was Snow? You thought for a brief second. For once he felt like a man brought down to his knees by a woman instead of something untouched.

“Sorry,” you gasp out as he dives into your cunt. His tongue drew circles onto your clit as your cunt clenched around nothing. You never thought Snow would be sloppy at anything, you thought wrong because his breathing was loud, warn air of his pants grazing your sex. His stubble brushed against your sex as all of his attention was overstimulating your clit.

He finally lost interest as you cried out that you were close just by him playing with your clit for who knows how long. It hurt. It felt good. Perfect, delicious pleasure and pain. You were dizzy, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts of your cunt untouched by his mouth. He was licking every drop of your juices, all the while he made you wetter.

Your hands were fisted into the sheets, your hips subtly moving for friction. A notion that was stopped with a squeeze of his hand on your thigh. You were brought to your high, so close to the edge you would fall in a second as moans spilled from your lips.

Only for that to be snatched away as Snow moved away. You cry out, “No! Please!” But Snow merely raised an unamused eyebrow while his hand wiped his mouth. “Snow, please,” you whispered, feeling the heat and the high of your lost orgasm.

He lets out a scoff as he sees your desperate state. “My meal is finished,” he merely said. His hand takes off the red suit, the same color as your (his) shirt. His fingers unbutton his white shirt, revealing his toned physique. Those same hands now unzipped his pants, his boxer down to the floor revealing a hard cock. The well-rounded tip leaking pre-cum.

“But I am not done with you yet,” he muses, as he moves in closer. You were sitting up now and his hand was on your nape.

“I don't think I'll ever be done with you,” he whispers, the words sealing a promise of forever. “Don't be,” you whispered back, leaning to catch his lips. Your arms around his shoulders to pull him on top of you, to feel his weight, his skin against yours.

Primal instincts take over you both as you kiss. Desperate whimpers and deep groans could be heard and his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Making it bleed and making him suck your blood into his mouth. He pulls back with a gasp, his eyes wide, his lips swollen. His taste was of a dessert you couldn't name. Addictive and delicious.

His left hand was on your cheek, another still on your nape. His thumb brushes your cheek in a manner of caring. “You're the Queen of Panem now,” he announces, making your heart jump in surprise. “The First Lady of Panem.”

With that, he seals his words with a kiss. Soft and ravishing, his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand is in his hair, the blonde locks between your fingers as you kiss back with everything you have.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing with yours, “My bird in a cage. My property.”

“I'll make sure everyone at Capitol knows it,” he said, his eyes looking at you with the ferality of an animal stripped to his bare instincts. “Is that understood, my bird?” He asked.

The answer couldn't be anything but yes. So you replied exactly that and he grins. He looked beautiful in that moment, his charms coming out making you even more needy.

You pulled him in for another kiss, his lips smiling against yours as both of your tongues tangled. His hand lowered itself and cupped your cunt. His fingers trace your entrance and you whimper into his mouth but he doesn't breach in.

He gathers your arousal on his digits, and he pulls back from the kiss to take the digits into his mouth. After sucking his fingers clean, he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself.

His hands pushed you down on the bed, your legs on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, taking you in, his bird being such a pretty mess.

He placed a kiss on your thigh that was unbelievably soft that for a moment you didn't believe it was action done by Snow's lip but the harsh bite of his mouth marking the skin of your inner thigh proved otherwise.

He leaned down, his hand in your hand above your head. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, forming crescent marks that made him groan, a choked-off desperate sound that you wanted more of.

All the while he placed his cockhead right at your entrance. You gasp as you feel the tip slip inch by inch into your velvety warmth. You wondered if he was going so slow because he wanted you to adjust to his length. However, one look at his face told you were wrong. His blonde strands clinging to his forehead, his lips parted and letting out hot breaths all the while his eyes closed shut, his eyebrows furrowed as he buried his dick into your cunt with the slow pace.

The reason he was going slow was because he wasn't sure if he could last and fuck, that got into your head. Birds are little teasers and you were no different so you clenched around him. His length half pushed in and felt your pulsing cunt wrapping itself tighter around him.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His icy eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Snow. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

“Gentlemen make their women cum but you're not a woman. You're my property but I am merciful so cum. Cum on my cock untouched, my bird.” He groans into your ear as his pace gets faster, a tad bit of desperation creeping in as his hips slam into you without a care. You could only moan in reply, truth is you didn't need to be touched to cum. His cock, his skin against yours, his mouth sucking your neck, and placing love bites were enough. More than so.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Snow shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, my bird,” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

His hand ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands up. “First lady of Panem,” he stated, looking at you and then your body, his cum falling out of your cunt.

“First Lady…” you whispered, in disbelief and for whatever may come in the future.

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nerdpoe · 17 days

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Danny's found a way to dodge GIW trackers, as well as his parents. Their equipment hunts ghosts, ghosts run on emotion; so as long as he keeps his under a tight lid and doesn't feel anything ever, they won't be able to track him.

It works!

He's able to run from them, and goes as far as New Jersey. The plan was to stow away on a ship, and go to literally any country that wasn't America. He goes to Gotham, which hosts the one harbor he knows where no one will ask any questions.

But because of how weird he acted (completely emotionless during a Joker attack), he was fingered by police immediately.

He's handed over to CPP. CPP doesn't know what to do with a teen literally so traumatized that they don't show any emotion at all, ever. He keeps just...walking out of his placements. Just leaves without a sound.

Luckily, he's always caught, due to those placement houses having quiet alarms and him refusing to run.

They call the one foster parent they know who does.

Bruce Wayne takes in the strange, nameless kid who refuses to talk.

On paper, they gave him the filler name of 'John Doe', for lack of anything better to do.

Bruce does everything he can to make the newest arrival feel at home. Damian, for as territorial as he is, actually breaks out of his shell sooner than expected just to try to get the new kid to speak. To emote. To do something. Duke tries the open approach, then tries the 'no one will ever know, everyone thinks I'm an innocent goody-two-shoes' approach. Nada.

Tim even tries to trick him into talking, but nothing works.

Enter Dick; Dick heard about Bruce's new ward, about the situation, and decided to see if he could get the kid to open up.

Danny though. Danny's in trouble.

The Wayne Manor is weirdly secure, and he can't just walk away like he did his other placements. He can't use ghost powers or the GIW and his parents will immediately know where he is.

He really, really wants to take Bruce up on his offer and just spend the day relaxing. Respond to Damian's attempts to provoke him. Overshare about space facts with Tim.

But most of all, he really, desperately wants to get in a Pun Competition with Dick. He wants to laugh at Dick's jokes, and learn coolass gymnastic tricks!

But he can't!

If he relaxes with Bruce, he'll be content, which is an emotion. If he argues with Damian, he'll get annoyed, which is an emotion. If he sneaks out with Duke and breaks the rules, he'll get happy, which, again, emotion. If he overshares with Tim, he'll get excited, which is, yet again, an emotion!

The worst sin of all, he can't even show proper appreciation of the food the Butler keeps making him!

And now there's even more people coming over!

There's a quiet girl who keeps reading his body language and trying to get him to dance ballet, a blonde girl who keeps trying to kidnap him to take him to BatBurger, a guy with a stripe of white who wants to take him to a shooting range, and it just...he really, really wants to!

He wants to do all these cool things with them!

But he fucking can't!

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