#entw1ne

[fightwing]

blows kisses ~

👉😳?

😮🫵!

[exghul]

substitute <3

SUBSTITUTE: if your muse could be someone else, who would they be? in short, batman. in more words, damian wants to be great. he wants to build a legacy of his own and in doing so, achieve both his grandfather's and his father's goals. how he will do that? -- he hasn't quite figured it out yet but he knows attaining the cowl is a key component to make it successful.

as batman, he will stand atop the years of legends built around the mask. as batman, he can instill a fear that the robin mantle simply has never carried. not to bring up batman in bethlehem but we're gonna bring up batman in bethlehem: damian as batman will be brutal. he will be bloodier, he will kill. in order to staunch the wound that is gotham's crime rates, he knows that some people simply cannot be saved. this is a direct effect of talia's upbringing and in turn, ra's' influence. this very core belief will never leave him, no matter how many times he is warned that he will be the downfall of gotham.

by the time he's reached adulthood, damian is tired of hearing the warnings. if gotham must burn, so be it so that it might be brought back from the ashes and rebuilt into a better city: one free of sickness. he won't stop with gotham. he fully intends to force one major figure at a time to resolve world issues. it is a foolish dream, a dream that all of humanity could simply get along if they were given the right persuasion. but it is his dream. he will be batman and batman will cleanse the world, even if he must burn it down himself.

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS -- NO LONGER ACCEPTING ! @entw1ne ♥

[hexsrealityarchived2]

Lyric Starter Post ⤷ Always Accepting!

❝ Think I'll miss you forever like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky ❞

☽◯☾┄─ @entw1ne (for Victor) || Lana Del Rey-Summer Time Sadness

[revenantinflames]

A starter for @entw1ne 😘

This used to be fun.

The way he could stand in a room full of people and still feel so hopelessly alone was a skill in and of itself. People spoke to him, sure. Bought him drinks, offered him drugs – the club was his domain and he wanted for nothing - he was a conquest, after all. An item on a bucket list, a freebie, bragging rights – just another sun-kissed blond pretty boy in the club who was far too drunk to still be standing upright. Not a human, just a prop.

This used to be fun.

The way he was so painfully himself ached in his chest, and no amount of drinks in the world would fix that. Nor would they fix that miserable, horrible hole that resided in him. But something else might. A pill kissed into his mouth by a stranger, maybe? Filthy, despicable, emotionless sex in a grungy bathroom stall? Couldn't hurt to try. It was all about that instant gratification, after all. That's what they were all here for - what he was here for. He was no better than anyone else. So he’d take each touch, each kiss, each hickey for what it was; nothing but instant gratification.

The singular thought repeated in time with the bassy EDM music that pulsated through his chest. This used to be fun. This used to be fun.

Johnny needed to leave. Because this wasn't fun. It hadn't been fun for a long time. Who had he even come out with? Had he come with anyone? Had it only been tonight? Or was it one of those weekends where he had indulged too much and the nights and the days had all blended into one? He wasn't sure. This used to be fun.

He broke away from the girl who had been draped over him on the dance floor, stumbled into the crowd and pulled his phone from his pocket. He needed to escape. His addled mind seeked safety that didn't come with a pair of piercing blue eyes telling him what an idiot he was - he already knew what an idiot he was, it's why he was here in the first place.

[ 4:17:03am ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] pkrse cpme and grt me

[ 4:17:27am ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] at bsdment

[ 4:17:42am ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] basemrnt

[ 4:18:00am ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] in qurrens

[ 4:18:09am ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] queens

This used to be fun.

[revenantinflames]

@entw1ne sent a prompt - Assorted Texts 🔥⤷ open

[ sms ]: do you need me to come pick you up? / also from reed >:)

[ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] please [ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] please help [ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] do you have anything that will dissolve webbing? [ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] i [ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] i may have hit a nerve with bug brain [ ✉ ⤷ boss man : ] i'm webbed to the butt of the statue of liberty

[revenantinflames]

Some Baxter cryptid bullshit for @entw1ne 🧍‍♂️

It had been one of those nights — the kind of night where thoughts cycled fast and the clock ticked slow, where Johnny would find himself circling above the bright lights of the city in a desperate attempt to burn off that anxious energy that tailed him whenever he couldn't sleep. He had managed to doze off for a moment, but dreams of worms and dismemberment were — to no one's surprise — not exactly conducive to a good night's rest.

So instead, he wandered through the Baxter Building, seeking distraction of any kind. The kitchen. Opened the refrigerator, closed it again. The living room. Flicked throught the channels aimlessly. Back to the refrigerator. Still nothing of interest. Then, to Reed's lab. Because nine times out of ten Johnny was absolutely right in assuming that Reed was awake — did the guy ever sleep?

Johnny opened the lab door, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. His gaze fell to Reed, who was deeply engrossed in something that he would have no hope of understanding. Waiting a moment before making his presence known, the blond perched himself up on one of the countertops and kicked his legs idly as he spoke.

"Let's just pretend I understand whatever you're about to say to me-- but what have you been working on? I swear I haven't seen you sleep in like, a week."

[revenantinflames]

🎨 ahahahaha for reed pls this will be incredible

Send me  “  🎨  “  and I will make a very poorly drawn powerpoint presentation about your muse - open🔥

[shelassos]

❝ the hunt is but a prelude to a war, is that not so? ❞  / from viktor!

Sorrow is smudged on Diana's features as obviously as red paint on a white canvas.

Her fingers are curled as though to carry a sword, and yet, there is no sword to be found, only a lasso that glows at her hip. The truth being that she could wage war, could crush skulls, could crumble empires, with her naked hands. The weapons, the instrument of truth, serve to restrain her, to keep in check a power that is perhaps limitless. She has never found an opponent who could thoroughly break her body, but her soul, oh her soul, is a wretched, shattered thing.

She eyes Viktor with the suspicion she affords to all those too well-versed in the bloody dance of war. Diana is no longer innocent to its ways; she, too, knows what it means to take a life. ❛ Is it not all a prelude to war? ❜ She asks aloud, and this, this she wants to know. Is anything in this world separated from Man's inability to be an animal too wild to tame?

There's a bitter edge to her voice. But mostly it's just sorrow. ❛ You kill the hunter, and still, the war does not end. ❜ You kill the God of War, you end the war. Ha! A fool she had been! A child who had no business playing with something heavier than a wooden sword!

❛ What, then, brings about peace? ❜ She's posing a question to which she herself has run out of the answers for. Tell her. Please, tell her.