#dc comics#dc#batman#tim drake#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfamily#dc fanart
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y'all didn't think i was going to miss the opportunity to commission @tadpole-apocalypse for some art of my nightmare children did you!!! i am absolutely obsessed with their art and couldn't be happier with this piece - it just feels so them!!!
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still practicing in procreate while the writers block persists / thank you to @olivedrop for the inspo!!
“you know, I didn’t realize you and I were so alike.”
@fangswbenefits is a simple woman. she need him breed. and really, don't we all?
Hold Me Like a Knife - Chapter 10: Three Little Words
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Sex is just as much about control and power as it is about pleasure,” she says simply. “Everything comes down to control and power, in fact.”
“I’d have thought everything to you comes down to murder.”
“What is murder besides the ultimate show of control?”
“Ah, an unsatisfied Halia is a very serious Halia, good to know,” he snorts, and she just groans, laying her head on her hands. “I’ll add that to the murderous and serious Halia from the other night.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Hold Me Like a Knife - Chapter 7: Golden Disappointment
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Your own kills have slowed, my darling killer. Do you grow angry with your God?”
She bites the inside of her cheek, closing her eyes in penitence, “Father, I have slain three this tenday in your name -”
“And you should be bringing me dozens, Necaria,” He thunders, and haunting footsteps move toward her, and Halia winces at His domineering presence, “you ought to bring me legions of dead, mountains of corpses with which we might bury this world and begin again.”
Hold Me Like a Knife - Chapter 4: A Spawn Amongst Spawn
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“You’re awfully pretty, aren’t you?”
“If pretty is what you need, Lady Dhune, then that’s what I’ll be,” his tone somehow sounds both genuine and practiced, and when he smirks, the sight pulls a smile to her own lips. She realizes it immediately - she’ll be in trouble if she takes this one. He’s far too handsome.
She can’t be sure how old he was when turned, she’s never had the hang of guessing ages for anyone who aged differently than a human, but his face has the lines of a life well-lived. Lines from smiling, laughing, around his eyes and cheeks. It’s absurdly charming, even as his eyes lower to hers with confusion.
And then he takes a deep inhale of her, and the smirk falls, her own smile disappearing with it. His brilliant red eyes search hers before he asks, “What…what are you?”
Still cooking, despite the typo I see in this (don’t perceive it). Durge pretadpole fic that’s going to lean heavily of dark Catholic imagery so I can’t get that outta my system.
