#good food anon

[lelianasbong]

One thing I'd really love to see re/wyllstarion in some capacity (might have to just write it myself someday) is how like. Yes wyll is a monsterfucker and to some extent astarion being a vampire is hot to him and he's canonically monsterfucker adjacent at the very least HOWEVER. i feel like the thing a lot of people miss (or it's just me idk) about astarion is that he's straight up Not Good at being a sexy vampire he's not good at being a cool dominating creature of the night like. There's a whole scene about how cringe and practiced all his lines are he's notoriously whiny and campy and unstable and ngl he's not the kind of person i can see actually dominating anyone (mostly just for the safety of all involved but that's neither here nor there) ANYWAYS my point is: 24 year old virgin wyll ravengard who satisfied himself wih fantasies up to this point finally stumbles across a sexy vampire he could live those fantasies out with only to come to the shocking realization that 1. wyll himself is somehow the better seductor 2. they're both bottoms

That last bit lmfao 💀💀 Woe!

You know, I think Wyll actually *is* a little taken in by the oooh suave vampire bit, more than anyone else in camp (I say this as someone who personally is 1000% invested in cringe and whiny Realstarion vs. Generic Vampire Fantasy Guy even if Astarion has fun LARPing the latter) if only because of 1) all those times Wyll calls him charming behind his back and 2) "elegant bearing, saucy voice - I should've seen [that he was a vampire], the signs were all there!" (I will never, ever get over this line. what the fuck. THIS was what clued you in vis-à-vis the vampirism? Not the fangs or the red eyes or the puncture wounds..? WYLLIAM!!? we need to talk).

BUT I see your vision, anon. I do. Wyll IS the better seducer, he HAS the greater rizz. He's batting .400 on pickup lines, Astarion's 10 CHA simply cannot compete with Wyll's princely gigachad energy.

Wyll would definitely have to adjust his expectations, but I like to think that's part of the fantasy - the romantic ideal - for him. To be the guy who uncovers the humanity beneath the (sexy) monster facade. Getting to the soft squishy center of someone like Astarion or Lae'zel, etc. would feel soo, sooo rewarding to someone like Wyll, who by all accounts is deeply attracted to people with sharp teeth... but craves the pomp and pageantry of courtship and a deep and tender connection.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[inkly-heart]

"Ahem! Yes, DG, I would like a Hamburger with some lettuce, tomatoes and mustard please. I DON'T LIKE PICKLES! Oh! And may I have large fries I would like some ketchup with that.🙂"

Are you sure you want to order food from him??

[happyheidi]

[ragnarokhound]

hey honeybuns how was your day?

I think we’re missing a really good angle for werewolf jaytim here. Imagine Tim knows Jason is a werewolf, they’re buddies, etc etc

But then Ra’s (or any other villain) starts sending Tim fanmail/trying to seduce him over to the dark side/being generally evil and or creepy. Queue Jason going all dog territorial on Tim, from following him around to everything short of peeing on him to mark his territory. Then (important to plot and character development) they have dirty dirty werewolf sex xoxo luv u

Hey buttercup, it's been pretty good actually! Making progress on my jaytim exchange fic 😤 how about you, any crazy work stories

And ohohoho HELL yes. I live for that kind of possessive shit lmao Ra's or Riddler or whoever starts sending Tim little things either as Tim or as Red Robin, and Jason immediately going into hyper vigilant guard dog mode about it is just. Chef kiss to me

He gets an ornate package in the mail that's just a single glimmering green-pommeled knife and a note that reads "happy anniversary, detective" on like. The day Tim lost his spleen or blew up Ra's bases, take your pick - and cue Tim's one man (wolf?) bodyguard detail. Even better if Jason gets his friends (ie Roy and Kori or Artemis and Bizarro) to help Deal With the Threat while he does the very vitally important task of being next to Tim At All Times, Just In Case

Comedic spin on this is Tim being utterly exasperated with this behavior (yet charmed, unfortunately) and spending more energy on dodging Jason than Ra's lmao, so when he DOES finally get kidnapped or whatever, he's like 'oh thank God, alone time'

When Jason finally finds him, all cute and snarly and panicking, Tim's like 'hey babe, thanks for coming, but we need to have a serious discussion about boundaries' and Jason whimpers ('not right this second obviously, we can cuddle or whatever wolfy, calming down thing you need to do first. Wow, you were really worried, huh? I'm okay, I swear, haha--mmf! ...mmm.')

[gale-dekarios]

hc that gale is into the thrill of possibly getting caught fucking in public :)

oh how delicious.

gale would be absolutely mortified if you two ever were caught, but he just wouldnt be able to help it.

it could be anything. the sun could hit you just right, or the wind blows your perfume in his direction, or maybe youre just in his general vicinity, but it's a 50/50 (more like an 80/20) that his resolve can hold long enough to not drag you down an alleyway, or his fingers tracing down a little bit too low to be strictly polite, or, hell, burning a spell slot to cast darkness in a corner.

he'd be so nervous. his eyes would flit away at every sound and youd be able to see the bump in his throat bob when you pay special attention to his neck (which you absolutely should if you want to drive him mental). but gods he is so into it. so fucking into it. so into fucking you.

the idea that he can tank his reputation in waterdeep even more than he already has shouldnt make him this hard, but when you look the way you do, when you smell the way you do, when you act the way you do, he's hardly going to pass up the chance to have his fingers threaded through your hair, pressed up against the nearest convenient surface, as entangled with you as he can be, inside you as far as he can go, or as far as you can go inside him, who cares? he's a man that's only ever been left wanting, and now he'll be damned if he passes up on what he needs.

[necrotic-nephilim]

bftc jaytim fuck nasty in their batman suits🩷

CORRECT THEY DO. it's like you live in my brain, anon. and for that, you get a full fic bc i've wanted to write this anyway and you gave me an excuse to. have 6k words worth of dirtybadwrong JayTim. rough sex, blood play, pain play, degradation, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove vibes so be warned. but also enjoy bc ily for this thought anon 🩷

“You look ridiculous in that get-up. Like a kid out for trick-or-treats.” The words were just as brutal as the fight was. Jason had the bodyweight and training to easily pin Tim, now that he was done toying around. 

Of course, toying around for Jason Todd looked like bloody slashes across Tim’s back, base of his skull, and his forehead. Picking one of Bruce’s older suits may have been a bad idea on Tim’s part. The armor was thinner and easier for Jason to slash through with a batarang in a clenched fist. 

Tim had managed to knock the batarang out of Jason’s hand, but that also seemed like a bad idea now, with Jason on top of Tim. His fists were even more brutal, blunt weapons and he’d reinforced the gloves to make his punches hit harder across Tim’s face. 

There was blood pouring from Tim’s nose and mouth. With all the pain flaring across his body, it was hard for him to get a good read on if anything was broken or not. 

All he knew was it hurt. His head spun from slamming against the concrete. It was hard for Tim to blink his eyes into focus. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t. Jason was leaning in so close, his mask was all Tim could see. Tim dizzily wondered how the glowing eyes didn’t impede Jason’s vision. 

“Look at me,” Jason demanded. His voice was robotic behind the thick metal mouthpiece. One of his fists pulled back for another punch. “Do you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?”

By some miracle, Tim managed to catch the punch before it connected with his face. The muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed at the animalistic strength Jason pushed back with, inching his fist closer and closer to connecting. If it did manage to connect, Tim knew his own hand in the way wouldn’t do much to soften the blow. If anything, Jason would shatter Tim’s knuckles against his own nose.

Not a pretty thought.

“That mad I said no to being your Robin?” Tim wheezed. It was hard to get air in his lungs, with Jason perched on his chest, putting all his weight on Tim’s midsection. 

Jason scoffed with cruel amusement. “You’re a second choice, Drake. It doesn’t matter to me if you say no, I can always ask the original. He’d at least put up a better fight than you’re managing.”

Tim couldn’t argue that. He thought he’d have some kind of chance in a fight against Jason, but it was a losing game to confront Jason on his turf, in a suit Tim wasn’t comfortable in. He was too stupid to even bring his bo staff.

A great Batman he was turning out to be.

With bloody teeth, Tim smiled. “You’re right. Is that why I’m your reflection, Jason? Two second rate Robins who will never be the original?” He managed a laugh against protesting ribs. “For what it’s worth, I still think I’m better than you. Least I didn’t die.”

He couldn’t see the look on Jason’s face, but he didn’t need to. The feral yell that came out of Jason spoke for itself at how well Tim got under his skin. Jason’s other fist came barreling toward Tim’s face, but he managed to move his head out of the way, making it only connect with the ground. Jason’s punch was hard enough to make the concrete crack.

Even with the reinforced gloves, that had to hurt. Maybe a couple cracked bones, if Tim was lucky. Jason couldn’t hit as hard if he injured himself. 

That was a solid plan. If he’d actually planned it in the first place. 

“Can’t believe I ever liked you, Drake,” Jason snarled, pulling his hand free from the concrete. He flexed his fingers just a bit too slow. He definitely hurt himself, even if he was trying to hide it. Jason went for his utility belt, grabbing another batarang. 

“Flattering,” Tim deadpanned. He tried to elbow Jason in the neck, but Jason easily twisted away from the blow. 

“I really did you know,” Jason said. Maybe it was the mask, but Tim could’ve sworn Jason’s tone changed slightly. “If Bruce hadn’t corrupted you, you really could’ve been something.”

Tim ignored the comment about Bruce. Bruce’s death was too raw for Tim to be able to look at his grief about it head-on. “Can’t say the feeling was mutual,” Tim grunted. He tried to slash his glove fins across Jason’s face. But Jason was smarter. He had a more durable suit that made the blow easily glance off. 

Damn Tim for picking this suit. He idealized Bruce’s image too much and forwent practicality. He was paying for it now. A new suit would’ve had proper weapons worked into the wrists for Tim to easily flick out. 

“I don’t know about that,” Jason mocked with a cold laugh. “Remind me again Drake, who broke me out of prison?”

He had a point. 

“Real great job you’ve done repaying that kindness,” Tim muttered. He avoided addressing it directly. He didn’t owe Jason his reasons. Especially not with how they’d all blown up in his face. 

“I never needed your kindness,” Jason growled. He wrapped a hand around Tim’s throat and pressed down just enough to make it uncomfortable for Tim to breathe. “That’s what all you Bats could never get through your skulls. I didn’t need to be Bruce’s pity project, and I definitely didn’t need to be yours.”

“Trust me,” Tim fought to get the words out, trying to worm his fingers under Jason’s grip. “You don’t have my pity.”

“What do I have, then?”

“My contempt.” The more Tim struggled, the tighter Jason’s grip got. The sharp points of his claws were starting to dig into Tim’s skin and draw blood. Blood flow was cut off from Tim’s brain and he fought to keep hold of his consciousness. 

“Liar,” Jason hissed. “No one else is here, Tim. You don’t have to pretend and hide things from me I already know.”

Maybe passing out would be a good thing. Then, Tim would have a convenient reason for not answering Jason. A reason to not face the truth Jason wanted him to bare.

Tim knew that Jason probably knew. The way they’d looked at each other through the prison safety glass when Jason was locked up had a thousand unspoken words in just a shared smile. A promise, that maybe, if Jason cleaned himself up with this second chance, there could be something between them.

But Jason didn’t clean up. He flung himself in the opposite direction, if anything. A growing body count and an ugly reign of terror that was Tim’s job to stop.

He started this. He put misplaced faith in Jason. Tim’s bad judgment jeopardized Gotham. 

And now Jason wanted the unspoken part said out loud. Something a part of Tim would rather die than admit after all this. They both already knew. Making Tim say it was just an obvious attempt to humiliate him and Tim refused to sink to Jason’s level.

All this over a stupid crush. 

“Fine,” Jason continued when Tim didn’t say anything. “I’ll say it for you. You loved me.”

Tim made a face and twisted, finally forcing Jason’s hand free from his neck with a hard strike to his inner elbow. “It wasn’t love,” he insisted through grit teeth.

“What was it then?”

Tim didn’t say a word. He wasn’t going to give in to Jason’s cruelty.

“Tell you what,” Jason’s voice dropped low and almost sultry. “If you say it out loud, I’ll give you a free pass. No one will know.”

“A free pass?”

There was no way Jason was implying what Tim thought he was.

“Right here, right now.” Jason nodded. “Can’t say I’ll make it sweet, but something tells me you’re not the vanilla type anyway.”

Shit. He was implying that. Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

The answer should’ve been obvious. 

The answer was obvious. Tim was laying in a growing pool of his own blood because of Jason. Countless people were dead because of Jason. Bruce’s legacy was being destroyed because of Jason. Whatever little crush Tim had once had was long gone and replaced with disgust and hatred.

Most of it was. 

But some small piece of Tim clung to the way Jason grinned at him. And that small piece of him seemed to be steering the rest of him, making him hesitate on what should’ve been an easy answer. An easy chance to catch Jason off guard and get the upper hand in the fight.

Tim hoped the cowl hid enough of his face that his expression wasn’t readable. 

“Over my dead body,” Tim forced the words out, pulling himself back into reality. Praying Jason wouldn’t read into the pause. 

Jason’s body shifted. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and brought the batarang clenched in his fist to Tim’s neck, easily finding the jugular. “So be it. I agree anyway. Killing you is the best way to cut this goddamn feeling out of me.”

“What feeling?” Tim frowned, fingers twitching as he stalled, trying to think of a real plan. 

“No, no.” Jason shook his head and laughed. It was a hollow sound, this time. “You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. If you won’t say it, then I won’t either.”

Oh.

“You…” Tim sucked in a breath. He was on death’s edge, a blade to his neck, but somehow it was the furthest thing from his spinning mind. “You like me? Like that?” He said it like a stupid high schooler, too shy to even look their crush in the eye. 

“What difference does it make now?” Jason shifted his weight on Tim, bearing down more. “This was always how it was going to end, between us.”

“It makes all the difference,” Tim said. He didn’t know why it did. But he knew it did. Tim reached a hand up, but instead of going for Jason’s batarang, he went further. His fingers reached under his own cowl and tugged it off, baring his face to Jason. 

Vulnerability. A metaphorical white flag, surrendering to Jason. 

Tim was dangerously close to getting himself killed. He could feel it, in his beating heart and overflowing adrenaline. 

“I would’ve come at this from a different angle if I knew…” Tim started, before trailing off. They were still dancing around saying it directly.

Jason barked out another laugh. “Oh, would you? What, you would’ve come to talk instead of fight? You really think that would’ve worked?”

“Maybe-“

“I told you,” Jason’s grip on the batarang tightened, “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“And you don’t have it,” Tim snapped back. Too angry. This angle was quickly slipping away from him. Shit. “You’re a psychopathic killer and I don’t know if you can ever been redeemed after what you’ve done. But I would’ve tried out of love, not pity, you sanctimonious asshole.”

Jason stuttered. He leaned back and breathed hard. Tim really wished he wasn’t wearing that stupid mask. “You said it wasn’t love.”

Tim took in a deep breath, and let himself fall over the ledge he’d been trying so hard to cling to since Jason pinned him. “I lied.”

For a moment, Tim was convinced he’d just sealed his own coffin. Whatever Jason’s feelings were, it didn’t seem like they were any particular deterrent to hurting Tim. He was inches away from killing Tim and leaving his body for someone else to find.

If they found Tim’s body at all.

But instead. Instead, Jason reached up and ripped the metal part of his mask off, tossing it aside to skitter off into the darkness.

And he kissed Tim.

Tim let out the breath he was holding against Jason’s mouth. And in turn, Jason breathed him in, greedy with his kiss. The batarang was kept firm against Tim’s throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jason was kissing him. 

There was still the logical side of him screaming just how bad of an idea this was. All the reasons he could think of to not tangle with Jason were running circles across his mind. 

Tim ignored them and kissed Jason back. 

Jason tasted like metal and he smelled like gunpowder. Both of those things made sense and made Tim want more. He wanted every single part of Jason he could drink up, even from a single kiss. Jason’s tongue was in his mouth, licking and opening Tim up. They shared each other’s blood through the kiss, until Tim couldn’t tell whose was whose. 

The kiss was broken by Jason just as suddenly as it was started. Jason pulled back and raised the batarang. Panic flashed through Tim and he instinctively threw his hands up to cover his face and neck. 

The batarang slashed through Tim’s suit though, thankfully not giving him what might’ve been the stupidest death in the history of vigilantism. Jason didn’t seem to care about making sure the cut didn’t get Tim’s skin, though. Shallow wounds sprang across Tim’s skin and he hissed, watching Jason turn the suit to ribbons. The batarang was then tossed aside so Jason could rip off the suit as he leaned back. 

The bat symbol on Tim’s chest stayed in tact, but everything below it was ripped away, exposing him from his abs down to his thighs. Jason knew exactly how to unclip the utility belt and throw that aside, with the shreds of fabric. 

Cold air hit Tim’s most private areas. He wanted to cover himself, but he couldn’t get his hands to obey. His entire body was paralyzed under Jason’s gaze.

“Take off your mask,” Tim found his voice, rough and not sounding like himself.

Jason wore a cruel smirk. “No.” He did take off his gloves, though. Tim didn’t hide his sigh of relief. He didn’t want those claws on his skin. He was bleeding enough as it was.

The moment Jason’s hands were bare, he ran them over Tim’s skin. Tim hissed and flinched, but didn’t pull away. He let Jason’s warm hands claim his skin. Jason wasn’t kind or gentle. He smeared Tim’s blood around, exploring every bare inch. Tim’s stomach, his hips, his back, his legs. 

Jason curled a hand around Tim’s dick and Tim’s back arched. 

To be fair, this wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured sleeping with Jason. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 

Jason jerked Tim off rough and fast. The blood on his hand was slick enough to make a smooth glide over the callouses of his palm. Tim groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked into Jason’s hand. As much pain as his body was in, the pleasure was too distracting for him to care. Tim choked on every breath he managed to take in, unable to stop himself from crying out and whining.

His body was screaming at him because of what Jason had done to him. And now, he was letting himself fall apart to Jason’s hands in a different way. 

“If Grayson found us, he’d think I was fucking torturing you from all the pathetic noises you’re making,” Jason growled. He barely sounded human. He slid his other hand up Tim’s chest and grabbed Tim’s face, stroking his cheek. 

Tim groaned at the thought. He forced his eyes to open just so he could look at Jason. He really wished Jason would take the cowl off. Tim wanted to see Jason’s face more than anything. 

“Don’t bring him up,” Tim gasped, practically humping Jason’s hand for more delirious pleasure. “I don’t want to think about him now.”

At least he could see Jason’s smirk. “Why? Because you know he’d disapprove?”

“Because I want to think about you.” Tim tried to grab at Jason’s suit to pull it off. His hands were clumsy and shaky though, probably from blood loss. All he could do was uselessly press them against Jason’s chest and feel the warmth through layers of armor.

“Fuck,” Jason groaned. His whole body shuddered, affected by Tim’s words alone. Jason stopped jerking Tim off so he could unclip his belt. He kept his other hand against Tim’s face though. Stroking it. “Least I know why you broke me out of prison, now.”

Tim made an aghast noise. “This is not why I broke you out of prison.”

Jason leaned in close, resting his face against Tim’s. “You still broke me out. So all my blood is on your hands too, Tim.” He pressed a kiss against Tim’s temple. “Bruce wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do that. Hell of a Batman you make.” It was like he had crawled into Tim’s brain just to voice all the awful little thoughts that Tim tried to bury. 

“You-“ Tim tried to snap back, but he was distracted by the sound of Jason undoing a clasp, then a zipper. Tim looked down and watched, breath caught in his throat, as Jason pulled his cock out of his pants.

He was already hard. 

Jason’s hand smeared blood across his member. Tim swallowed at the sight. Jason had pushed his pants down just enough to expose a sliver of pale skin. He had a sharp v-line and toned muscles just from the bit Tim could see. An embarrassing noise came out of Tim’s throat.

“Pathetic,” Jason said, but he groaned on the word, working his hand over himself. It was filthy. Both of them, covered in blood, and Jason jerking off on top of Tim. 

Tim wrapped an arm around Jason. He wanted to sink his fingers into Jason’s hair, but he settled for wrapping them around the back of Jason’s cowl. Tim seriously considered trying to pull the cowl off himself, but he doubted Jason would take kindly to it. 

The noises Jason made as he pleasured himself were beautiful. Tim’s sounds were animalistic and, in Jason’s own words, pathetic. Barely human sounding. But Jason. Jason sounded practically divine, low and smooth as he moaned in Tim’s ear. 

“Please,” Tim gasped. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for.

“That desperate?” Jason downright purred. 

Tim didn’t hold himself back from nodding. He swallowed down his dignity. 

If he had any dignity left.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” Jason warned. Like he was giving Tim one last chance to back out.

Tim just laughed. “If you think I want you to be gentle, you really don’t know a thing about me.”

A guttural groan came out of Jason. He pulled back and lifted one of Tim’s legs, bending it as far back as he could. Tim wasn’t quite as flexible as Dick was, but Jason got pretty far before Tim’s muscles protested and he winced. 

“Of course you shave down there,” Jason commented. He slid a hand over Tim’s smooth skin around his cock and balls.

“I don’t like pubes getting caught in my suit,” Tim huffed, trying not to let his cheeks go red.

“Don’t worry,” Jason hummed, “I think it’s cute. Makes you look like a fucking virgin.”

“I’m not.” Like it mattered.

Jason paused, just staring at Tim. Was he disappointed? It was hard to tell. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, so it doesn’t matter either way.” Whether or not he was disappointed was masked with a rough, possessive anger that made Tim gasp.

Rough fingers ran over the shallow cuts on Tim’s stomach and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain. It wasn’t easy to ignore the dull throbbing when Jason was practically fingering the open wounds. Tim almost asked what the hell he was doing, before he realized Jason was smearing blood across his fingers, getting them slick and coated.

“Seriously? You’re going to use my own blood to fuck me?” Tim asked, like just the thought of it wasn’t making him spread his legs wider. Still, the idea of cleaning tacky blood out of himself did make Tim internally cringe.

“You got a better idea?” Jason shot back. 

“I think there’s lube in-“

“No.” Jason cut him off, pressing harder into the cuts just to make Tim wince. “We’re doing it my way, or I just leave you in a pool of your own blood with a hard-on.”

“Okay.” Tim caved instantly with a hushed whisper at the rough dominance. 

It was so easy, for Jason to take complete control of Tim. He was putty in Jason’s hands, content to be manipulated however Jason wanted, so long as Tim got his own pleasure out of it. If Jason wanted Tim to bleed, he would bleed. If he wanted Tim to be spread open and ready to be fucked, then Tim would give him that too.

Christ. He needed to be checked out mentally after this. 

Jason gave Tim a pleased hum, probably the closest thing to praise Tim was going to get out of him. He’d take it. Blood slick fingers pressed against Tim’s hole. Two fingers were forced in at once, hard and fast.

Tim screamed.

He didn’t expect Jason to be gentle, but it seemed like Jason was going out of his way to be rough. Scrapping his nails against Tim’s insides and brutally twisting his fingers around. He didn’t try to hit Tim’s prostate to bring any kind of pleasure. The brushes of his fingers over that spot were more painful than pleasurably, if anything. Fast and rough, giving Tim no chance to soak up the sparks of sensation from the bundle of nerves.

“Oh god,” Tim groaned, throwing his head back. His hips twitched violently, like they weren’t sure to press into Jason’s fingers for more, or to try to pull away from the horrible assault.

It’d been a while since Tim had been in this much pain. So battered from a fight that every movement of his body was weak and shaky. He grabbed onto Jason’s arm, desperate for an anchor. He couldn’t have pulled Jason off of him, even if he wanted to.

He didn’t, though. Tim wanted this to last as long as it possibly could. 

He never got to drown himself in the pain. Pain was something that had to be compartmentalized and ignored, for the sake of the mission. Getting back on his feet and ignoring the way his body screamed at him was one of the first things Bruce taught him. 

Now, Tim didn’t have to fight it. He could just give in. The half-hearted instincts from his body trying to fight back were ignored by Jason. Like Jason knew that Tim wanted this. 

Needed this. 

At some point, Jason must’ve worked a third finger inside of Tim. He didn’t notice. The burning stretch swirled with every other point of pain on his body. 

He did noticed when Jason finally decided to purposefully press against Tim’s prostate.

This pleasure was new. Foreign and overstimulating with how aggressively Jason pressed down on the spot, rubbing into it to pull all kinds of noises out of Tim he didn’t know he was capable of making. 

“Jason!” Tim cried out. “Fuck, too much, I can’t-“ Tim’s stomach was cramping from how hard his muscles clenched. He was falling, losing his grip on sensible reality. His head was full of cotton, foggy and unable to get a solid grip on coherent thought.

There were only three things that existed to Tim: pain, pleasure, and Jason. 

“You can’t what? Use your fucking words,” Jason mocked, vicious and uncaring. He rested Tim’s leg over his shoulder to free up his other hand. His fingers wrapped around Tim’s balls and tugged. Tim screamed and arched like a jack knife. He hadn’t noticed how close his orgasm was creeping up on him until Jason pulled it away with a brutal, carnal pain. When Tim lost control of his body, Jason found it and snatched it up, holding Tim’s pleasure in his palm. Tim wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t force his limbs to obey. 

“Hurts,” was all Tim could groan out. He might’ve been crying. It was hard to tell, with his face so wet with blood. 

“Good.”

“Jason,” Tim tried to beg. He was lost to subspace, something he barely realized until now. “I can’t take anymore.” He wanted more. More than want, god, he needed more, but his body was wired so tight Tim was convinced he was going to snap if Jason kept going. 

He wanted that too.

“That’s not for you to decide.” Jason’s rough voice was a light at the end of a tunnel Tim was struggling toward to ground himself. To focus on something besides the agony crashing over his body in brutal waves. “Do you really think you’re in the fucking state to know what you can take?”

Jason was right. Tim just whined, a noise that turned into a choked sob when Jason pulled his fingers out just enough to slam them into Tim’s sweet spot again, overwhelming him with more awful pleasure. 

“Give yourself over to me,” Jason demanded. He leaned in close again. Tim’s vision was blurred, but he could smell the gunpowder and leather. “Say it. Say I own you.”

Tim wanted to. He tried, opening his mouth and struggling to get the words out. He could only make more pathetic noises.

“Say it, or I’ll stab you and leave you to fucking bleed out.”

He probably wasn’t lying.

“You-“ Tim choked on the word, shaking so hard his muscles were spasming. “You own me.” Three little words, and they were the hardest words Tim had ever tried to say. Each one fought against him, getting stuck in his throat. 

But he said them. Because right now, they were the only religion Tim believed in. 

“Look at that,” Jason cooed. So patronizing. “You’re not completely brainless and worthless. Yet, anyway.” He pulled his fingers out of Tim. One second those fingers had been driving Tim mad because they were inside of him, and now they were driving him mad because they left him empty and wanting. 

His body needed more. More pain, more pleasure. Until he broke and Jason fucked the shattered pieces left of Tim. 

Jason got a hand underneath Tim, using the blood from the gash on Tim’s back to slick his fingers this time. That gash was far deeper. Something that probably needed stitches. It had started trying to clot but Jason agitated it enough for fresh blood to pour out. He was able to actually work his fingers under Tim’s bloody skin, making Tim shriek and try to pull away. 

There was nowhere for him to escape from the mind-numbing pain. When he pulled away, he just crashed into Jason’s chest, forehead bumping against the bat symbol of Jason’s suit. 

“So fucking easy to push your buttons,” Jason laughed. He moved his fingers around a bit more just to make his point and pull more wounded noises out of Tim. Then he finally pulled them free and let Tim fall back to the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of Tim.

He didn’t have a chance to try to get air into his lungs. Because Jason slicked himself up with a disturbing speed and lined up. The warning of blunt pressure against Tim’s hole lasted a fraction of a second and then Jason snapped his hips. Buried to the hilt.

Tim almost passed out.

He didn’t know if it was from the pain, the blood loss, or his body’s inability to get oxygen into his lungs. Everything exploded inside of Tim. He was full, so full so fast. Jason’s fingers hadn’t been nearly kind enough to properly stretch Tim for Jason’s size. It almost felt like being stabbed.

Over and over, as Jason fucked into Tim with no kindness. 

A hard slap across Tim’s face forced him off of the edge of unconsciousness. He gasped, eyes snapping open to find Jason’s face right above his, the glowing eyes of the mask taking over Tim’s field of vision. 

Jason was smiling. Blood on his teeth, dripping out of his mouth. Was it his blood or Tim’s?

Tim hoped it was both. 

“I don’t know which Bruce would find more pathetic,” Jason groaned as he fucked into Tim, pulling small screams out of Tim with each punch of his cock, “you putting on that suit, or you letting me fuck you in it.” He brought his lips to Tim’s ear. “Who’s ruining his legacy now?”

If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, Jason knew exactly how to rip open the wounds of Tim’s emotional pain alongside it. Tim cried out at the thought. 

What would Bruce think of him, like this? Pathetic and barely human underneath Jason Todd?

“And they call me the failed Robin,” Jason just kept talking, like he wasn’t destroying Tim from the inside out. “At least I know how to be something other than Robin. Are you really delusional enough to think you’re going to be the next Batman?” A long moan came out of him and he thrust even harder until Tim screamed loud enough to make himself dizzy. “Answer me.”

Tim just shook his head. “No.” His voice was broken. His throat was sore from screaming, but the word still came out. He’d never thought he really could be Batman. So what the hell was he thinking, putting this suit on?

“Good.” Jason slid his fingers under the bat symbol on Tim’s chest, one of the only parts of the suit in tact. He ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly in Tim’s ears. “It’s good you know your fucking place.” Jason changed his angle, finding Tim’s battered prostate again. Tim didn’t have the air in his lungs to scream anymore. All he could do was weakly mewl and whimper.

He could die like this. He honestly might. Tim had no idea how his body was holding on, in this state. Maybe it was the pain and pleasure alone keeping him alive. Just so he could soak up every touch from Jason.

Tim was never going to allow himself to do this again. So he had to enjoy it while it lasted.

This time, Tim felt his orgasm creeping up on him. His fingers dug into Jason’s arm and he pressed up into Jason’s warmth. The material of Jason’s suit was rough and unforgiving. It didn’t feel particularly good for Tim to grind his cock against, but he didn’t care. He needed any kind of friction, whether it brought him pleasure or road rash. 

“I won’t stop if you come,” Jason warned, still hammering into Tim at a pace that should’ve been impossible for a normal human to manage. “This isn’t to make you feel good. It’s to put you in your fucking place.”

Tim could only whine, managing a nod of understanding. This was his place. He knew that. He never wanted to leave it. 

The threat of being fucked into overstimulation hung over Tim’s head, but he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the high of his orgasm. He almost wanted to feel the overstimulation. Like his orgasm was just something to get over with so Tim could completely give himself over to Jason. To be used just for Jason’s pleasure, even if it brought him nothing but more pain. 

That thought made Tim’s balls tighten. The only warning he could give Jason was a high pitched keen that barely sounded like Tim’s own voice. His eyes rolled back.

The pleasure of his orgasm didn’t overtake the screaming pain in the rest of his body. It just mixed with the pain, swirling into one intense feeling Tim didn’t have a name for. He screamed until his throat gave out. His back arched and he clenched around Jason, who kept driving into him. Jason growled in Tim’s ear. He was holding Tim’s hip so tight there would be bruises that would end up indistinguishable from the rest of Tim’s injuries.

All injuries that Jason gave Tim. Tim’s body was a canvass, and Jason’s favorite color to paint with was the red that poured out of Tim. 

It was the best orgasm Tim had ever felt. No feeling was ever going to match this intensity. 

Tim came down from his high with an awful wheeze, shuddering. He clung to Jason, like a guard dog laying at the feet of his master. 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned. A shudder ran down his spine and his pace faltered, just for a moment. “You’re really something else, Drake.” From Jason, that was practically a compliment for Tim to soak up and preen under. 

Tim’s body tipped over the edge of overstimulation. His survival instincts kicked in, trying to fight Jason. There was no strength behind his kicks and hits. They just made Jason laugh as Tim made a fool of himself.

“I own you,” Jason reminded Tim. He caught Tim’s wrist and pinned it against the cold concrete, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation to Tim’s fingers. “I can do whatever I want to your useless body. Don’t try to fight it now.” He leaned down and found an exposed part of Tim’s neck to sink his teeth into. It wasn’t a hickey, but a proper bite, breaking Tim’s skin. 

Tim cried out, but still tilted his head to the side to give Jason better access to his neck. Even when his body wanted to fight, Tim managed to submit. Like the submission was natural to him. 

The pain took over. Tim just floated in it, forcing himself to go limp. Submit. No more fighting. He gave in to Jason and stopping thinking. All Tim needed to do was feel. Feel every point of agony scattered across his body. Feel Jason fucking him. Using him, like Tim was nothing more than a toy. The sparks from Jason slamming into his sweet spot couldn’t be called pleasure anymore, with Tim’s cock spent and limp. It was more pain. 

Better that way. Tim liked the pain more. Delicious and mind-numbing. 

Jason was swearing against Tim’s skin. He mumbled something Tim didn’t catch. Three syllables. Short and rushed out. Tim was almost convinced the second word was love. Maybe he was making it up in his head though, finally lost in utter delirium.

Tim didn’t care.

More insults fell from Jason’s lips. Calling Tim nothing, worthless, pathetic. A cheap pretender who deserved this. Tim agreed with all of it, feverishly nodding. The words were practically sweet nothings in Tim’s ears. 

Jason yelled Tim’s name when he came. His hips stuttered to a stop, buried deep inside of Tim. He knew Jason was coming inside of him, but his body was too battered to feel Jason’s cum filling his insides. Shame that was. Tim wanted to know how it felt, to be claimed by Jason in this carnal way.

They were both so perfectly still, for two people who had been shaking and clawing at each other just moments ago. The only noise was heavy breathing that echoed through the night.

Tim swallowed. He tried to find himself through the pain. He worked through the body checklist that Bruce gave him. Vision. Smell. Taste. Feel. Sound. All the sensations clashed against each other, out of focus and pounding against Tim’s skull.

It was so hard to think.

Tim groaned. Focus. 

Like cold water thrown on his face, he clawed his way out of subspace. Tim got a good look at Jason’s face.

“Are you crying?” Tim voiced the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 

With the mask, it was hard to tell. Jason’s breathing was shuddered, hitching on every inhale. Tim wouldn’t call it sobbing, but it was close enough for Tim to study Jason’s face. The wetness coming out from under Jason’s mask wasn’t red. It streaked through the blood. 

Tear tracks. 

Jason’s completely rational response was to punch Tim in the face.

Tim swore and curled in on himself, cupping his nose. If it wasn’t broken before, it was now. Jason pulled out of Tim without any care and stood up, leaving him curled up on the ground, trying to set the broken bone and manage the bleeding.

Tim tried to sit up. His arms and legs gave out under him and he slammed back to the ground with a pained noise. He looked up at Jason, squinting. Watching as Jason tucked himself back into his pants, then snatched his gloves off the ground to put them back on.

Despite clearly losing the fight, Tim had done a number on Jason. Jason’s face was bloody and his suit was ripped and torn in some places. He looked like he had been mauled by a wild animal.

If that was how Jason looked, Tim couldn’t imagine what the sight of his own body was.

His second attempt to sit up worked. Now, he compartmentalized. Forced the pain deep into the corners of his mind and locked it up. 

Tim had to be functional now. He couldn’t let the regret and shame get to him.

“I-“ Jason started to say something. It was only one word, but it sounded uncharacteristically soft, making Tim straighten his back and hold his breath. But Jason cleared his throat and folded his arms, stamping down whatever kindness had almost come out. “I’ll throw you a bone. If any of the Bats find you like this you can just tell them I raped you,” he said it like some kind of mean joke.

Tim didn’t say anything. That wasn’t true. They both knew it.

“Preserve your precious dignity you care so much about, huh?” Jason continued. He sounded unsure of himself and he turned away from Tim. 

“Jason-“ Tim reached out for him. “We can still-“ he struggled for the words. “It doesn’t have to end like this. You can still change. I’ll-“

“Don’t,” Jason snapped. He kicked away Tim’s hand. “We both know it’s too late for that.” He started to walk away. “Never wear that suit again, Drake. I’d hate to see you die to someone that isn’t me.” He almost sounded… protective? Tim wouldn’t call it fondness, but maybe something close to that. Tim refused to allow himself to read into it. Whoever Jason Todd had become, he was someone that Tim couldn’t save. He was someone who didn’t want to be saved, no matter how Tim felt about him. Tim had to accept that, even with Jason’s cum deep inside him. Some truths were immutable. 

Then, Jason was gone. Vanishing into the shadows and leaving Tim there.

Tim tilted his head back. He allowed himself thirty seconds. He counted them. Thirty seconds to sit in his own filth and feel the pain for just a little longer, before he had to move and figure out how he was going to get home in one piece without anyone finding out what happened here.

Just ten more seconds.

Five. 

Three.

One.

With grit teeth and a deep breath, Tim stood up.

[l3viat8an]

lucifer finally gets some alone time with you after his schedule and brothers kept you and him apart for a week. but as he gets your clothes off, he sees that you're covered in his brothers' marks (lipstick, bite marks, hand prints), as they all thought it would be fun to tease him by playing with you first

Nsfw content MDNI

Idk what part of my brain wrote this but I know I’m down bad for possessive Lucifer~

Luficer's eyes darken as he sees the marks on your body. He clenches his jaw, clearly unhappy with what he's seeing. "What is this?" He growls, his hand gripping onto your hair tightly. "Did you think it would be funny to let my brothers have their way with you first? Did you think I wouldn't find out?" He hisses, pulling your hair roughly. "Answer me, now."

You shake you head ‘no’ and mumble “I….” you couldn’t say that you hadn’t enjoy the way the others had played with you first, so you settle on a quiet, “I’m sorry, sir.”eyes flicking down and away from Lucifer.

Lucifer tsks, "Sorry isn't good enough, darling.”, his grip tightening even more. "You willingly let my brothers leave marks on your body and then you come to me? I’m not sure if you’re brave or stupid." He pauses momentarily, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself. "But I suppose I can fix you.”

He pauses for another moment and looks over every mark he can see, his mouth sets in a smirk you know well. It always means he’s going to ruin you.

Lucifer moves quickly, pushing you down onto his desk and roughly spreads your legs, gazing down at your body with a feral hunger. "Let's see how well you can handle my punishment, shall we?"

You gasp at the harsh movements but stay still, not wanting to upset Lucifer any more. 

“Good, very good." Lucifer says with a smirk, his eyes never leaving your body. "But don't mistake my kindness for weakness, MC.”

With that, he leans down and begins to kiss and bite at your neck, leaving his own set of marks on your skin,"You'll never forget who you belong to, love. I'll make sure of it."

[hjartasalt]

Not to pry but do you have OCD? Your allergies/food fears sound like, textbook

Yeah I'm finally in the process of getting a diagnosis, just kinda took me a while to realise that no, it's not just anxiety because ultimately I knew my fears were irrational and felt too silly to talk about with anyone. Then when it got too debilitating to live with and I finally opened up about it a bit literally everyone I spoke to was like "dude you have OCD go see a specialist"

[yandere-kokeshi]

your platonic yan dad ghost hit different (daddy issues rise up). It got me thinking (not a request just food for thought) how would he react to kiddo somehow secretly dating someone behind his back? Even worse if it’s someone he knows like Gaz/another recruit. Who doesn’t love drama lol

Yeah, he doesn't approve of this. He mainly disagrees on the point of dating at all. The moment you entered the stage of wanting to date boys/girls, (possibly during your Twilight stage ;)), he immediately shuts it down with his 'dad glare'. At this point, It's not even a question of whether he'll accept it; it's a question of how far your s/o can run until they get shot in the head from him.

Unlike the other dads, Ghost is strict – the strictest out of everyone. He expects you to know things, especially with dating. You should understand his reasoning without any explanation. If needed, he will kill your s/o in front of you. Though, he doesn't want for you to see how brutal he can be; ruining the image he wants you to have for him.

How you could date under his strict containment is beyond me. But, when breaking his rules, there are punishments and consequences. He will ground you, taking away all and every electronic you could have, and putting 'extra security' on you. This involves taking away your privacy, meaning all doors, any locks or secret items you're hiding are immediately in his room for supervision.

And if he finds out your s/o is another recruit? He'll make sure their life is a living hell on campus. Always demanding training. 'Accidentally' punching them too hard, and purposely making them do mistakes on the field, making them AWOL or dying in some way.

Such a shame, hm? Don't worry, your dad is here to comfort you once you get the news of their death.

[marclef]

Fake Pep looks like a very spongy fellow…

Like, you put that man in a bath and he’ll just soak up all the water like a sponge would do 🤔

well, the way i see it, Fake HATES being in water. it messes with his skin and makes him lose his form, so unless it's like, a real nice, comfy warm bath, it probably isn't too pleasant.

.... but, what he CAN do, drinking liquids doesn't hurt him, his insides are more "sturdy" and can absorb it better. so if he were to be put in, let's say, a container of sorts filled with water, he'd probably just try to drink all of the water in order to get it off of him.

something that Peppino unfortunately found out once while trying to get Fake to take a bath.

so... i guess he DOES work kinda like a sponge, in certain situations. Fake sure doesn't like doing it that much though... it takes forever to get all that water absorbed.

(featured: One Sopping Wet Bag of Goop (basically just a water bed at this point.))

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

its my birthday🤭 as the birthday girl/boy/creature can i please get some ajax and legacy working together to make a big at home celebration for readers birthday?? maybe with a little bit of ajax getting his body hijacked by an excited moth halfway through the celebration amen🙏

HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAYYY!!!!! I HOPE TODAY WAS AMAZING AND FUN!!!!

number one rule of any celebration: Ajax cooks. at least, he cooks when it's between him and Foul Legacy, he's had several years of experience cooking for himself and his siblings. Legacy's more likely to light something on fire by accident- unless it's a recipe you taught him! he listens VERY closely when you teach him how to cook! but still, he prefers to focus on decorating instead, his height allowing him to hang pretty lights and dangling stars wherever he wants until the whole room is sparkling, and Legacy chitters and chirps to his heart's content. since they can't separate, Ajax is the one to greet you when you return home, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around with a boisterous laugh

"Happy birthday!" he sings, and it's one of the best phrases you've ever heard

all three of you treasure time together when it's just the three of you, so for this evening, you don't invite anyone else over. you and Ajax dance around the room after dinner- all of your favorites, of course- and with an adoring grin he leans in and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. there's a sudden spark of violet lightning, your hair standing on end as Legacy promptly pulls control of their shared body from Ajax's hands, rumbling happily and squeezing you tight. his wings flutter and flit rapidly from his excitement, head bumping against your cheek, careful not to jab you with his horns. before you know it he's tugged you over to the couch, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling against you, trills slipping out of his mouth. you pet his head, raking your hands through his fluffy ginger hair and lilac fluff, and are met with a few playful nibbles, nothing ever deep enough to harm you or break skin as Legacy purrs deeply, something that sounds like "Happy birthday", and you smile all over again

[rickybaby]

thinking a little more positively about after f1 — what do you think he’ll move onto? do you think he’ll stay a public figure, or will he take the route of a quiet life? and, what would you like to see him do in the future?

I think he’s going to take a long long long time for himself before he even thinks about what he wants to do. And I love that for him.

I wouldn’t be surprised if, after all that’s happened, he decides to withdraw completely from public life. As a fan, I will simply be glad to have what and when he decides to share anything with us

[agerefandom]

Cg! Azi an Crowley pwease!

I'm not sure if I interpreted this one correctly, but here are two moodboards for caregivers Aziraphale and Crowley! <3 They love each other and also their little one!

[moodymisty]

She keeps playing with Rogals hair as they lay together. He needs rest and sharing the primarchs bed is hardly a poor deal for her, though she would have comforted him anyway. The words of encouragement finally convincing him to rest during the siege.

Soon he can't fight himself and he nuzzles against her and clings to her like the young of some animal that carries its offspring on its back. The all too human desire for comfort admist a sea of death becoming overwhelming. She just squeezes him at that and continues to play with his hair. He is clearly unused to this. He keeps tensing and pulling away almost imperceptibly as if considering then seemingly giving in and cuddling closer to her. It is like an animal working up the courage to take food from one's hand. He is quite frankly adorable to her like this, but she does not tell him that in fear that he would take it as a critique of his performance. It is not. He is one of the strongest, most hardworking people she has ever met, and that is including the fact that he is a primarch.

-🟩





We stan Rogal 'concrete' Dorn in this house.

[kelin-is-writing]

crying 😭😭❤️❤️I loved chatting with you too😭❤️ the "touya" thing you rb'd was one of the first things I read this morning and it got me thinking of TWO diff horny scenarios tbh and idk which I prefer 🥴

I love love love the concept of sleepy morning sex with dabi. there's no urgency, there's no dominance, just slow languid movements in the half darkened bedroom. quiet "I love you"s in between soft groans. when you guys finish he doesn't even pull out, just staying inside you as he holds you and you guys fall back asleep.

But it ALSO got me thinking. Pathetic dabi who's wrapped around your finger the second you say Touya. He's a whimpering begging mess, you're pegging him, pounding him into the mattress so fast and hard he can't form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. All you can hear is "p-lease". He's got a white knuckled grip on the sheets, you yank his head back by his hair and say "you're being such a good boy for me, touya" and thats it. He's gone. His eyes roll back and he cums so hard he can't hold himself up anymore. You see tear stains on the pillow and all he can do is let out a pathetic whimper as you let go of his hair.

Anyways 😋! Just some food for thought- 🎃

it was so fun yesterday please, super happy of having you in my inbox again 😭💜

also god... you just mixed-up three of my absolute favorite things in one: dabi + morning sex + cockwarming.

like the grogginess of just waking up, his slow and sloppy thrusts inside your cunt while looking down at you with his half-lidded eyes, heavy pants leaving his parte lips as he rests his forearm on the spot beside your head and the other hand gripping your waist. your hoarse moans and whimpers only making his hips snap harder against yours as he groans between choked out “i love you”s like– god... that would be such an awesome way to wake up... and the cockwarming afterwards being the cherry on top for real 🤧

JESUS—!!!!! everyone laughing, joking and gangsta, but the truth is that you’re dabi’s biggest weakness like– he’s so weak and pathetic, basically putty whenever you ride him while moaning “touya...” in the most erotic voice he has ever heard AND when you know it would have him tremble the most. he tries lift at least his upper body, but you surround his neck with your arms and push him down again with a “don’t even think about it–” and you’re moving your hips erratically against his getting a choked out moan from dabi who’s stunned by how weak he is against you, but damn did it felt good when he then just leaves you take charge and hears you whisper praises to him in his ear, that’s enough to have this boy cum and STILL not be satisfied, so he just starts slamming into you again while his semen is drooling long his dick and he’s begging against your neck to not stop, a restrained sob coming out from his gritted teethes from the overstimulation.

HOLY FUCK 🎃 ANON.

HOLY. FUCK. 🎃. ANON.