#I can't believe this anon

[damnamour]

[temeyes]

How’s my baby’s father? (Gaz)

gasp.... he got u pregegant?!

[arttsuka]

Some past fiddlestan? (Like Ford just went through the portal. He gone now. Past. Yk?)

The mystery misery yaoi

[durgetavoc]

Yes I really want to know the horrors of the shit bucket. I’m quite surprised that he isn’t obsessed with cleanliness. He always struck me as the type but then again… I guess I’m wrong.

Oh god, here we go then.

SPOILERS FOR THE HOUSE OF HOPE

(CW for...The Shit Bucket Guy, obviously)

So, if we ever decide to go steal the Orphic Hammer, we can go visit The House of Hope, there, we obviously find Raphael's collection of artifacts, his eternal debtors, and one of them is… This guy.

You should know that all eternal debtors are condemned to a certain task/action. It's difficult to know if this has anything to do with their contract with Raphael, if it is a distortion of an already existing trait of their personality (for example, the Perfect Eternal Debtor, the Theologist Eternal Debtor or even the Voyeur Eternal Debtor) or if it's a way to completely dehumanize them (Loyal Eternal Debtor…My beloved :( ). It seems to be a mix of everything, that wouldn't be surprising if Raphael did what seemed most entertaining to him.

But let's focus on the Shit Bucket Guy, since he's the one that interested us today.

As our affectionate nickname for him indicates, we find him in front of a chamber pot with a visible green odorous cloud above it, which confirms us that it has been used (when you interact with the pot, here what the game says : "An overpowering stench singes your nostrils. Nothing good happened here."). The debtor doesn't appreciate us getting closer to it, and if we ask him if he is its guardian, this is what he answers:

His "name" in the game is "Unclean Eternal Debtor" and if you're taking a look at his face... Yeah, I guess he's not just guarding the pot. When we observe the animation of the character, he walks around the pot, makes a hand gesture to smell it, and that's it.

It has become a running joke in the fandom, particularly for us, little mouses. Those who have been to the House of Hope know about the Shit Bucket Guy... But nobody talks about him.

(Yeah I couldn't help it.)

It's not really surprising, the presence of the chamber pot, and not just any one, RAPHAEL'S, raises other questions. One might wonder if it's not a little OOC coming from someone like him.

Let's take advantage of this question to dig... A little deeper.

Here's, imo of course, why it's somehow relevant to show Raphael's chamber pot and what this tells us about him.

Shall we?

1. Don't be fooled by appearances, he POOPS like us!

Raphael. Raphael. Raphael who embodies sophistication, intellect and danger... Alluring and at the same time fearsome, a fascinating mix. Goddamnit, he's a suave motherfucker, and he fucking knows it.

In video games, it's part of the suspension of disbelief to not talk/show toilet, unless you're in a life simulation game like sims. It's not just taboo since it's one of the most private aspects of our life, but it's also... Not relevant to the intrigue most of the time.

Showing us something that intimate about him disintegrate his mysterious aura. We learnt that Raphaels shits. Yeah, absolutely astonishing. Reminding us that he's exactly at the same level as us. Like the title said, despite his charming manners, his eloquence, his theatrical gestures... He's still human, hells, part human.

2. In the Devil's house.

The first time we meet Raphael, he wastes no time in bringing us to his home, on his own terms. We only see one room, and this is what we see:

Luxurious place, lavish displays of food, ordered furniture... Promising, right? This is how Raphael wants to give as a first impression. I think this scene is perfect as a metaphor. Remember what Gale said? He's taking us to dinner! Like a date, he wants to impress us, seduce us.

But when we're back to this place during our improvised visit, what do we see?

Rotten food. Blood. Skeletons. Mess. Remind me of my room before I have to rush to clean everything because a friend comes over.

By choosing to enter Raphael's home, into his privacy, the game takes us on a tour of his home: we discover what is hidden behind Raphael's character. It is of course expected that we discover his secrets and/or aspects of his personality that he would not wish to reveal, at least not before we make a deal with him.

Haarlep, his incubus, also participates in this demystification. Through them, we can learn about Raphael's sexuality (I'll be quick on this since @bitethedevil did some really good analysis posts about it):

Raphael is only attracted to himself (hence Haarlep's appearance)

He is a bottom pillow prince

And he doesn't last in bed (a valuable information that can be used to anger Raphael later)

Once again, this is another very intimate aspect that is revealed to us. I'm sorry to say it, but Haarlep basically plays the same role as the chamber pot to accentuate the intimacy of the place and also to ridicule Raphael, thus revealing to us what he really is.

3. Raphael hates his father.

Our favorite cambion is having daddy issues, and the chamber pot seems like a nice response to the statue his dad gave him. It's a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of detail, but it's funny to point it out. Show don't tell as it's finest.

4. How bad it is to sell your soul to Raphael.

This one is easy... The Shit Bucket Guy is an example of Raphael's cruelty : "This is what could happen to you if you make a contract with Raphael."

Sure, it's funny because the whole thing is ridiculous: "Guardian of his chamber pot? Seriously?", but it's hard to really laugh at it if you take into account the other eternal debtors. The whole place is designed to make you uncomfortable, because it's not treated as a joke. They had a life, had to ask Raphael for help, and are now reduced to doing something degrading until the end of time. They don't even have a name anymore. They could be your Tav/Durge or your companions...

Suddenly, the temptation to make a contract with Raphael is less appealing after seeing all this, isn't it?

Conclusion : Now the question that burns our lips : What could this guy have done to him to be reduced to this? And why?

My first instinct when I met this character was to think, "oh boy, you must have really pissed off Raphael..." let's be honest, it's the kind of torture you could imagine to your worst enemy or at least a very annoying one.

It could be that, or maybe, mayyybe...

Remember Mephistopheles' statue?

What if Raphael was SO annoyed by this gift that he woke up one day thinking "fuck my dad, fuck his gift" and decided to literally shit on him by putting a chamber pot in front of this statue to express his thanks. And just like any narcissist/paranoid guy, he named a "guard" to be sure no one would spy on him through this (it sounds delirious, but again, we learn that Haarlep was send to distract Raphael, so why not?)

Sure, maybe Shit Bucket Guy annoyed Raphael in the past, but wouldn't that be kinda fucked up that this guy didn't do anything that would justify this treatment? He's just a dude, and Raphael is just a pissed-off daddy's boy (and a very mature one).

Or maybe, Raphael just thinks it's funny. And who are we to discuss a devil's sense of humor?

In any case, sorry Shit Bucket Guy, but it wasn't your lucky day.

PS: Hush, I can hear you wondering "do you think Raphael is scat???" and on this subject I would say: I don't think so, his narcissism is there after all, but he also seems really into humiliation. So maybe it's for the best we don't really know the answer to this question.

After all, only Haarlep can judge him (so the bar is already on the floor).

[dilfmobius]

Do you know what absolutely kills me?

Mobius doesn't often let himself get rattled. He usually lets things roll right off his back, no matter how chaotic things get. Two out of the three times we see his calm demeanor crack, however, are related to Loki: Once when he feels as if Loki betrayed him for Sylvie, and the other when he figures out that Loki will be sacrificing himself to save everyone. Even during the time that Brad goads him, and causes him to lose his temper, Loki is right there for him, to help him calm down again.

Loki really is the center of Mobius' universe, and the one thing that is able to break his composure, is the thought of losing him. 😢

goddd yes thanks for this because it kills me too!!!

but okayyyy let's talk about it because wtf is this??

he's so hurt!! betrayed!! look at his face!! owen wilson you owe me money!!!

and the jealousy fueled spectacle he puts on right after. "It's breaking my reality right now!" oh, baby, we know.

and this

this look on his face?? literally brings me to tears. he's scared and confused and loki's out there!!!

and my personal favorite

it's the clenched fists that really send me over the edge, because he's trying desperately not to break down, not to lose his cool. he just needs to hold it together until loki gets back. he'll make it back. right?

but godddd that look of pure anguish on his face. it's like his life is flashing before his eyes but it's all just loki.

(why yes i did make gifs specifically for this ask, i promise you i'm very normal about all of this)

another scene where mobius loses his cool (that i just really love) is when they get separated at roxxcart. mobius is energized by the fact that they're so close to finishing this, but also that he and loki were gonna do it together. loki was the one who figured it all out and mobius was so proud and just,,, "you're gonna take my job if i'm not careful." and why did he have to say it like that???

anyway, the last thing mobius wants is loki out of his sight and he has a conniption about it!

"of course he's a threat [...] that's why i want him with me." and yes of course mobius knows better, because no one else knows loki like he does. but i'm also very endeared and amused by it. mobius please take a breath.

i also love loki's soft, "mobius, it's fine." just end me please.

AND YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT MOBIUS BEING AFRAID OF LOSING LOKI WHAT ABOUT THE ENTIRE FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON 2

THE CLUTCHING??? THE MANHANDLING???

i will never be okay again and it's because of THIS EPISODE.

"loki's here? where?" "i need a loki who remains." the look of horror on mobius' face every time loki timeslipped "he'll make it back." "give him more time! he can still make it!"

season 2 really is where mobius just falls apart and the crisis of faith fully sets in. of course his worst nightmare is losing loki; he's the only real thing mobius has left. "everything you've been doing is wrong, and all your gods are dead." and poetically enough, not all of mobius' gods are dead. loki's there. loki made it back to him.

and they're whole conversation in the automat after brad chipped away at whatever was left of mobius' defenses. of course mobius doesn't want to know about his past life. his past life didn't have loki. he likes his life at the tva because loki is there with him.

it's why he leaves once loki is gone

ANYWAY, this kinda got away from me oops i'm done fhdgfjsdg

[the-monkey-ruler]

Someone on YouTube reanimated one episode of the 70's Monkey Magic show and released it a few days ago.

YES OMGGGGG PEOPLE I CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS HARD ENOUGH TO WATCH NOW! This is a project where

170

artists took a segment from "Catfish, Saint, and the Shape-Changer" the 14th episode from the 1978 series Saiyuki or better known as "Monkey". It is nearly 50 years old and while I shall say the English voices are a lil dated the artists have captured the charm and humor that made the series so popular in the first place! It is creative, it is inspiring, it is so glorious to see so many different artists show how much Xiyouji means to them and how they see this funny and strange group of monks together on their holy pilgrimage. It really captures just how beloved not only the show was but how even today JTTW is for any generation and transcends time to still be going strong after 400 from Wu Cheng'en's official release!

If you have 30 minutes to spare, please give it a watch! This an ENTIRE episode so please enjoy!

I'm putting some of my favorite shots but sadly I can only fit 30 but look at these DESIGNS and in ANIMATION!! Seriously this is all worth it! From beautiful to funny give it a look!

[claraoswalds]

BEN SHAKIR + being called "Benny"

+bonus

[vellichorom]

I love how in one of your drawings of Settings person from Stanley parable, he doesn't have a sign for when he doesn't like what you did. Really reminds me of that scene from adventure time, when Jake had all these signs to talk to Finn with but Finn's signs only had stuff like 'Thanks Jake' or 'I love you Jake'

I love you player,

[foolbehavior]

I love the little hat emoji people use to represent luffy, the android version has a pretty purple bow 👒

[iphoenixrising]

Have I posted this? Alpha!Jon, Alpha!Dami, Omega!Tim 🤨

I told babe I was thinking about this, but I have done this before? Meh, regardless.

**

And really, when all things in Gotham are quiet, you know it’s going to be a good night.

B shouldn’t have worried enough to call Red Robin out of Titan’s Tower, but still, it’s nice to run through the city, skimming rooftops, getting a little more down n’ dirty with street baddies than riding the usual international espionage with his team. A few weeks away and this kind of thing is really just an itch that needs to be scratched.

“I am almost disappointed,” Robin laughs from beside him under the wing of a gargoyle right on the roof of the Wallstone apartments. His veggie wrap is disappearing quickly because Baby Bat has been a bottomless pit of hunger since he started putting on height and heavier muscle five years ago. Sixteen had been good for Dami, and Bruce’s genetics kicked into high gear two years later. At twenty-one, he’s broad through the chest and shoulders, almost a head taller than Red and a few sparse inches from Hood.

It was about the time Terry had approached him in Titans’ Tower, and convinced Red to start coming back to Gotham again, fighting the good fight along with the family, taking a step back into Gotham’s underworld when the world seemed to be momentarily stable. 

At some point, he and Dami started working together, stepping out in the night with masks on and old hurts finally easing. 

“Meh. There’s always another night,” Red takes another bite and sighs through his nose because really, chicken wrap for the win. 

(Alfred is always going to be the man.)

“I suppose. However, I’d hoped this wouldn’t have been an...exciting night for you to make the trip.” 

Red waves him off, looking down at the street, chewing for a second, “all good, Baby Bat. Everyone is out of the Tower for the weekend anyway. This is a nice break.”

Robin laughs low, “only you would consider this a break.”

“Well, you know, my Wednesdays are hectic as fuck.”

“I suppose it is difficult to schedule brunch, yes?”

“You don’t even know.”

And just like that, the two of them are laughing. A little bruised from a few street fights, but nothing extreme, and Dami is getting so much better at vigilante banter that Red Robin can’t help but feel a little proud.

(Really, witty banter is their superpower. Superboy and Kid Flash will totally vouch.)

They finish the wraps and swing side-by-side to the Bowery, talking shit over comms, playing tag around the strip mall down on 44th, and genuinely making themselves pretty obvious for people that actually look up.

It’s easy to jump in the big car at the end of the night, lean back to work on his wrist computer while Dami drives them back to the Manor.

“Hey, hey, you can just drop me a few blocks from the Perch.”

“Tt. Stay at the Manor tonight. You can brief me on R&D’s projects for the board meeting.”

“Pfft, like I need to.”

“Your perspective is always better.”

“Fine, fine. You’re so needy, Dami.”

“And yet, you still put up with me, Tim.”

“Well, you’ve got me there.”

And their smiles are wide in the darkness of the car, Robin and Red Robin riding back to the Cave with coffee waiting and hot showers to wash away the night. 

They meet back at the big computer, sweats and t-shirts, hair damp and bare faces, switching places from the main chair to their workstations, talking through the next week, repairing their gear or working on separate projects from their laptops. 

Alfred smears goop on bruises and gives a final please be certain to persuade Master Tim to actually sleep this time, won’t you Master Damian?, disappearing up the winding stairs, the calming scent of home lingering behind him, his natural Beta scent.

With his scent blockers scrubbed off, the air around Tim is faintly sweet, following him like the smell of a good latte. Dami’s scent is still more shampoo and soap since Nulls don’t really have a discernible scent to the second sex. 

And when they’re finally stretching and yawning, still a few hours to sleep before dawn, something in the air shifts.

One second, he’s got Dami laughing at the story about Bruce busting his bat ass against Mr. Freeze–while still being the Night, mind you– when Baby Bat stops abruptly, hand going down on Tim’s workstation top to catch himself when his knees unexpectedly give way.

Those eyes go wide, a hand going to his chest, fast and shocky enough that Tim sweeps forward to catch his youngest partner by pure instinct.

“Little D?! Dami, talk to me.” He keeps it calm, being Red Robin, staring at the sweat beading on the fourth Robin’s forehead while he gasps in a few fast and furious breaths. 

“T-Tim,” but his eyes flutter closed and his knees wobble, his weight falling further down on Tim’s shoulder.

Shit. Tim manages to maneuver Dami down to his chair, holding him steady, wracking his brain for anything, anything they could have come upon tonight. Fear toxin, Joker gas, Ivy’s array of poisons and venom, an awful rooftop burrito from the questionable cart downtown. Anything, anything he could have a cure for right here in the fucking Cave–

When he starts to move away, to jump in the Bat Med-Bay for a syringe to take a blood sample and start up the quickest analysis he’s ever pulled off before, when he’s tamping down panic to be on point, when he sees the distress happening when those eyes look up at him–

He completely misses the way Damian’s scent abruptly gets muskier.

A hand shoots out, grips his wrist, stops him from moving away.

“Okay, I’m getting worried. C’mon D. Tell me what’s–”

He reaches down, lays two fingers over the throbbing pulse, tries to get some vitals, and something deep and dark rumbles through Baby Bat’s chest, something all about need.

Oh.

Shit.

**

Most people present in their early teens, you know, about the time Robin had been a little dead, or so Tim’s sputtering thoughts try to explain away while the grip on his wrist gets tight, pulls quick enough to reel him in closer. The nose in his neck is a sudden indication since Dami as a Null had never really been able to scent like the rest of them.

The way the youngest vigilante is now inhaling against Tim’s throat like he’s dying, holding the Omega so fucking tight is the first piece of evidence. But when his mouth opens and a noise, a deep purr, rolls out against Tim’s jugular, he has an inevitable moment of oh fuck, panic.

Because he’s down in the Bat Cave with a presenting Alpha Male, and he probably smells like fucking dessert.

“D-Dami,” and he gives himself about a million vigilante points because his hands aren’t shaking when one cups the back of the new Alpha’s neck, fingernails scritching lightly at the fine hair. “Hey Baby Bat, it’s me here. I can help you, but you’ve got to ease up a little, okay?” He makes a small move to pull out of those arms, get Dami to actually look at him.

The whine is low, a noise he’s never heard out of their Robin before tonight, but those arms tighten on instinct, and now they’re pressed together from chest to hip and–and…

Oh.

“You’re going into a RUT?!”

Because of course. His luck is that awful.

“T-Timmm,” is growly and low, deeper than Robin’s usual voice, and Tim can’t suppress the shudder that goes through him.

“You’re presenting, better late than never, right?” He keeps petting even when something wet moves up the side of his throat, making a tremor go through him. “We need to–to call Jon, okay? He can help you.”

“Tim, you…” and there’s another lick to his throat, dragging over his skin like Dami’s savoring him.

“I-I’m not–” but Dami abruptly lets him go and drops down to kneel, shoving his face in the soft t-shirt over Tim’s stomach.

Hands are on his hips now, the tight hold gripping him.

He pulls the comm out of Dami’s ear, the presenting Alpha not flinching away, staying where he kneels, inhaling the scent of Omega.

Tim fumbles the comm in his ear, tapping frantically until the sound of whoosh is in the foreground.

“Hey babe,” Jon’s voice rumbles over the line, “have a good night with Red Robin?”

“Sorry, wrong Robin,” Tim stares down at Dami’s slack features with wide eyes, taking in the closed eyes, “We...that is, Robin needs you in Gotham ASAP.”

“Diverting course now,” is the immediate response, Jon’s voice changing to Superboy’s. “T, is he hurt?”

Unsure of who could be listening on the line, Tim makes a fast decision, tries to take a small step back. The hands tighten down immediately, Dami’s back straightening, eyes snapping open. The growl is something deep, vibrating the chest against his thighs, pulling at his inner Omega.

“He’s not hurt, but he might get out of control if I don’t get someone here quickly.” Tim gently lays a trembly hand on Dami’s shoulder, gets the Alpha to look up at him with those green eyes.

“Baby Bat, this isn’t...you don’t really want to do this, okay? Try to think for me, Dami. This is just because I’m an Omega, so I need you to try and think.”

“Wait, what?” Jon’s voice sounds horrified.

Shit. Forgot to tap the comm off. But, really, his inner Omega is starting to enjoy all the attention of an Alpha male, newly presented or not, so Tim totally gives himself an out here.

“Jon,” he tries to be calm, but Dami is lifting up his shirt and sticking his goddamned nose right in Tim’s belly button. His eep probably isn’t helping anything.

“Hold on, Tim, I’m almost there.”

The snuffles of breath against his stomach, brush of mouth, and Tim’s instinct to get the fuck away hits abruptly–

(Your boyfriend is going to kick my ass if he sees this.)

–and he moves fast, both hands on Dami’s wrist to loosen the hold and spin away from the Alpha male to give himself some space, pulling the current Robin off balance.

He ends up back by the big computer, eyes going wildly to his harness and utility belt discarded at his workstation.

The low growling reverberates through the Cave, making the bats above screech and start to flap around, and Tim’s whole body goes tight with what he’s sure to be an oncoming fight, wondering how that’s going to go with a rut-fevering Alpha, one that’s also his partner, his friend.

(The Omega in him doesn’t give a shit, just knows how good that musk smells, how much the Alpha is in need, how much it craves the attention, how much it wants.)

Dami’s eyes are glittering green, muscles tense as he stalks closer, eyeing the Omega he wants, the one that smells...delicious.

The rumbling purr breaks out of him again, something soft and soothing, meant to entice. 

“Don’t make me fight you,” Tim swallows, eyes all for Baby Bat getting closer to him, body language giving away everything. “Dami, I don’t want to hurt you.”

But it looks like his words are lost to the Rut haze since the Alpha only purrs louder, his musk stronger even in a place as spacious as the Cave. 

All right, then. It’s time to have a plan.

He feins right, darting half a step, then takes off near the bad guy trophies. The massive penny is probably a perfect distraction right about now. 

Dami leaps from his side, cutting him off, the Alpha manifesting in him giving chase. Tim manages to leg sweep him, escaping reaching hands. 

He doesn’t make it to the penny before Dami is pretty much body slamming him into the Cave floor, bigger hands pinning his wrists over his head, knees spreading him, and the growling Alpha is looming over him, the musk calling to his inner Omega.

“No! Dami, Dami!”

But the swipe of wet over his jugular makes his knees tremble, his back arch and not in that I’m trying to escape kind of way.

(But really, it’s been a long time, and he’s an Omega, the scent of a strong, able Alpha is like Fear Toxin or Joker Venom, it gets in his lungs, makes his inner Omega plaint, makes his scent stronger to appeal to the Alpha. Their bodies work against them.)

Dami’s free hand holds his jaw to the side so he can shove his nose in Tim’s scent gland and inhale deeply. He’s laying on top, their chests pressed together when the purring starts, and the rumble against him is obviously affecting him. 

He almost wants to cry when Dami rolls his hips down, and fuck, he’s– he’–

“No,” Tim moans in Dami’s hold, his hips juttering up because he’s starting to get hard, their sweatpants making it easy to tell. “We...we can’t. J-on, Dami, you’ve got to remember Jon–”

But he loses all thought when that mouth latches on to his throat and sucks.

He cries out, bucks up when his body responds with want. 

If he doesn’t do something fast, Jon is going to viciously–

“O-oh, oh wow, I…”

Because Superboy is suddenly right there watching Tim writhe on the floor under Dami, and Jon’s eyes are huge and blue, his face pink.

“It’s not–” Tim tries, “it’s just because I’m an Omega!”

“If you want to believe that,” Jon lands on his feet, moves easily to wrap both arms around his boyfriend to lift him off Tim without any effort. “Then I’m not the one to tell you differently, right Dames?”

The newly-presented Alpha tries to lunge out of the hold, to go back to the Omega scrambling to his feet.

Tim is sure his face is red enough to match Dami’s tunic, and he turns slightly to try hiding the obvious erection in his sweatpants.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tim sputters, arms around himself, “but if he did something to me while he’s very obviously dating you, he’d never forgive himself.”

But Jon seems very undisturbed about finding his boyfriend all over another guy, “sure, if we hadn’t already talked about it before. Him presenting as an Alpha this late wasn’t part of that though, so you might have a point.” Jon suddenly grins over the struggling Robin at Tim’s shocked face.

“Jon, he could barely stand me for years–” and the bitter scent of old pain takes over Tim’s sweetness because fuck, he’d wiped off the scent blockers.

But the change in scent makes Dami stop struggling against Jon’s hold, for both Alphas to suddenly have laser focus right on him. Caught up off his feet by Jon’s arms, Dami stops struggling, those green eyes intensely on Tim, hunched over slightly, holding himself.

“Oh Tim,” Jon sighs softly, and it comes out in a soft purr, “he’s been crazy about you for years. I mean, c’mon, you’re the best Robin detective!”

“But he’s with you. I-I would never do anything to fuck that up,” he’s starting to inch away, closer to the winding staircase, “you have to know that, Jon. I would never–”

“I gave him permission, Tim,” Jon cuts him off, “if you ever gave him the chance. O-or if you ever gave us the chance, we would take care of you."

Tim.exe has stopped.

"Geeze, do you even know how many times we talked about seeing you through your Heat? Even if he was a Null at the time, just talking about having you in bed with us was enough to make him go multiple times. I’m half-Kryptonian and I still had to tap out after round --“

“You would do that?” Tim cuts him off, voice strangely strained, “you would - you and Dami would - would take care of me? During my Heat?”

And Jon pauses in his ramble, only one arm around the presenting Alpha’s chest, still holding him slightly back. But Damian hears something in Tim’s tone that is upsetting. It makes him angry, makes him reach out an open hand in the hopes Tim takes it.

“Yes,” is edged with a growl, his hand open and waiting.

“We absolutely would take care of you, Tim, Heat or not. I swear, we won’t hurt you.” And Jon means it, says it unconsciously with his Superboy voice like Tim is a scared civilian and not a seasoned vigilante. “You would be safe with us.”

“I…” but his eyes dart to Jon who is churning out the most pleasant happy Alpha scent. “I can help make the Rut easier. If - If it- “

“Yes,” both Alphas growl at the same time, but Jon wasn’t holding Damian back anymore. 

It was both of them inching forward, Dani’s hand out, his other clenched in Jon’s cape, brining his Alpha mate with him.

"It's statically easier for Alphas to have an Omega the first time," he rambles breathlessly, watching them come closer, the tension in his shoulders easing at the scents. He seems to sway with bare feet, hand twitching toward what they're offering.

"It'll be easier if Dames has you, not just an Omega," Jon rumbles while Damian slyly snatches Tim's hand, reels him closer. "We've got a Rut room at his place in Wayne Tower."

"Bet mine is more secure in the Perch," Tim mumbles in Dami's neck, eyes rolling up to look at Jon while the presenting Alpha inhales sharply again his throat. The noise coming out of him reverberates through all three of them.

"Decision, decisions," Jon smirks over his mate's shoulder, nose barely skimming the other side of Tim's neck, a ghost of a touch.

It still makes a certain scent spike.

It's Damian that makes the final decision, lifting his head and one hand to pull Jon's mouth to his, growl and lick and bite while Tim watches, the tension in his abdomen getting tighter, warmer, the ust surrounding them as the Alphas fight for dominance.

Right in front of him.

The noise that comes out of Tim's throat is enough to spur someone into actions because--

-- the next second, the cave camera blur and the three disappear from sight, leaving behind discarded suits. Twenty seconds later, the lights click off for the night, leaving the bats to settle back down.

[yuanology]

Im back again👹, I’ve been thinking on fwb with suguru, and I believe that in some way Suguru would prefer fucking in the night, only the moon through the window as a source of light, yknow like i can’t get out of my head praising suguru, telling him how pretty he is but he can’t help it but feel not enough ,like not enough to be something more than a sexual partner

lowpropgeo my head is full of sad ideas 🐸(it’s a sad frog )

jesus fucking christ.

suguru lets out the prettiest noises when you're buried deep inside of him, thrusting into him lazily as if you intended to make love to him until the end of the world came and passed, leaving your skeletons still wrapped in each other's arms; a perfect mimicry of the lovers you were not.

he was shy about his noises. you knew that from the very beginning. he would cover his mouth with his hand, beg you to stuff his mouth full with your fingers. even so, you always taught him that there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about. you always caught his wrists, pinning them over his head, as you coaxed sound after sound out of his lips.

tonight was no different. the blinds were parted slightly, just enough for the moonlight to filter through. it was a pleasant reminder that just one wrong move was all that it would take to reveal everything unraveling here to the rest of the world.

you were always careful with him. this sight was just for you, after all—geto suguru in your sheets, his back arched and his lips parted, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his toes curling in his pleasure as you coaxed out pretty sound after pretty sound from his mouth. he was beautiful, always had been, and unlike most people, you had the privilege to tell him that straight to his face.

so you did.

"you're beautiful," you whispered. your voice was too soft, too loaded with such reverence and awe, but you had learned to stop catching yourself a long time ago. suguru was always the most beautiful when the compliments would filter through his ears, and the weight of your words would settle on his ribs.

true enough, suguru let out a sound that was akin to a sob. his nails dragged across the skin on your back, no doubt leaving red marks that wouldn't fade away for days. you only let out a low chuckle, the sound helplessly fond, as your mouth met the skin of his jaw.

"it's true," you continued. "you're beautiful, suguru. every inch of you." especially this way, bathed in the moonlight with his hair splayed all around him like a crown; a halo befitting a fallen angel

here, cradled in your existence, geto suguru was entirely yours—and what a thrill it was to hold him in your arms, to simply hold him as you fuck into him lazily without a care for the world. "so, so beautiful," you murmured.

he let out a ruined sound. "please," he choked out. it wasn't the first time he had begged you tonight, and you sincerely doubted this would be the last if you kept this up.

he was always so good to you, setting aside his pride and arrogance just so that you would hold him the way he deserved to be held—as if he was something precious, as if he was someone worthy. it was still nice, admittedly, to see suguru break and become a mindless being who just wanted more of your touch, your presence, your love.

"please what, gorgeous?" your lips skirted over his jaw.

his voice was strangled. "want more. not enough." he sounded fucked out, entirely braindead. you doubted he even noticed the way his hips were fucking against you, the motion steady enough that you could stop thrusting into him and he would barely notice.

"what's not enough, lovely?" you asked him. a customary question.

you expected the ordinary answers, the sound of his voice catching in his throat repeatedly before he managed to grit out his answer. please, you could already hear him say. please, this isn't enough. i want more. it was routine at this point, a predictable motion, a back and forth.

so you weren't expecting it when he choked out—

"you."

there were tears in his eyes. his nails were scratching down your back. his voice was ruined. this should all be the usual. this should be predictable.

except his answer was all the wrong ones.

oblivious to your internal struggle, suguru sobbed underneath you. his body writhed, clinging onto you tighter. "please, please, please," he babbled. "i want more. not enough. please, not enough."

not enough. not enough. not enough.

all thoughts of lingering quickly curdled into something sour in your stomach. you reared back, hips meeting his in one abrupt motion. a loud scream escaped suguru's throat, a sound that you would usually relish in but couldn't focus on now.

your motions were robotic as you fucked him, sharp and hard and fast the way suguru liked it when you ruined him. not enough, huh? fine. if suguru thought none of this was enough, then you would just please him the way he wanted to be pleased. you wouldn't linger any longer, wouldn't give him reprieve or a chance to be touched the way he deserved to be touched.

(and fuck, didn't that thought hurt? you thought you were both doing well; that something more was perhaps blooming. you must have thought wrong.)

suguru continued letting out slurred words under his breath, his pleas bleeding into the sound of his own choked moans. you disregarded it. instead, you fucked him as if you didn't care about him, fucked him as if he was just another warm body for you to get yourself off on.

suguru wailed, and you swallowed the heart beating in the back of your mouth.

not enough. not enough. not enough.

you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, feeling him shudder underneath you beautifully. you couldn't help the lump that formed in your throat, the gentle ache in your chest that you had learned to associate with geto suguru.

not enough.

it shouldn't be a surprise, really, that suguru woke up the next morning without you by his side for the first time in a long time. there was no letter, no message, none of your warmth lingering on the bed next to him. you were gone, just like that.

still, suguru thought as he clenched his fists. at least, if you were going to leave him, you shouldn't cook him breakfast and leave out coffee before you did.

[borgialucrezia]

CESARE BORGIA + CATERINA SFORZA "It is touchy material to begin with because it’s seduction, but it’s also power play and they’re sex scenes, but they’re not love scenes. It’s about who’s in control and letting the other one be on top of the situation. So yeah, she was great."

[booasaur]

Yellowjackets - 2x07

[tonycries]

tonyyyyyyyyyy......... i'm begging you.... more tony x reader 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 pretty pleaseeeeeeee?????????????? 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏 pleaseeee sweethearttttttttttt pleaseeeeeeee

FIIIIINE but only because you called me “sweetheart” 🙄😳

“H-here?” you wince at the way your voice cracks ever so slightly at the end. Looking around the empty changing stall as if just waiting to be caught red-handed. Literally anywhere but down, “Someone’s gonna- ngh-”

And, well, it’s not Tony if she isn’t shutting up your pretty whines by shoving her face nose-deep into your drenched panties. 

Giving your ass a tiny smack! that rings so guiltily in the room. “Relaaax” she drawls, hot tongue licking along your sopping, covered slit. “No one’s gonna know.”

“But-”

“Shhh, trust me.”

Nothing more is said before she’s all but ripping off your poor panties, having you fully and perfectly on display. Thumbing along the outside of your puffy folds, pooling your sweet sweet juices on her fingertips before raising them and-

“Mmm.” Tony moans around her index, “Cherry.”

And your face burns, recalling how you’d applied cherry chapstick to your actual lips - not the ones below - and you knew that. Knew that would get you to squirm in embarrassment. Sly bastard. 

Slam!

“Fuck! Um- sorry I seem to be uh- in the wrong room…”

And you don’t know what makes your jaw drop more - the way the intruder just stands there, taking in the sinful scene, or the words that are falling from Tony’s kiss-bitten lips, “Nah.” Giving you a sly wink from between your legs, “I think you’re in exactly the right place.”

[frownyalfred]

bringing up something I mentioned last night a la Kal breaking Jason's back

If he takes Jason to the watchtower does he allow them to see each other? Bruce so he's forced to see what was done to his son, his baby who he's already lost once, and knows this is all his fault. All because of what he taught them, all because he can't just be happy here where Kal can keep him safe.

And Jason who sees his dad, even after years of acting like he hates him and sees the toll this is taking on him. The pale wan skin, the bruises. The way he twitches anytime Kal turns his way like he's preparing to take a hit he can't dodge. Who Kal broke so thoroughly that he knows he won't be able to help him, won't even be able to try.

Not long enough for a full conversation, but just long enough for them to see each other, for that moment of communication to pass between them before Kal orders Bruce out the door to begin training for the day and Bruce has to go face down these children, these kids desperate to be heroes, with the reminder of just what Kal is willing to do in the interest of "protecting" the world. Just how skewed his perspective has become.

- Nev

Oooooh big oof. The tired rage and protectiveness they must feel toward each other as they catch glimpses of the other in the Watchtower. Jason in a chair and Bruce paler and thinner than Jason has ever seen him while still being at fighting capacity.

[lovelyhan]

dunno if ure comfy being sent nsfw links but i IMMEDAITELY thought of streamer wonwoo and reader when i saw this 🫠🫠 https://twitter.com/sugarfemdom/status/1662648169510096900?s=46&t=-M95tJ5hXqBg8X7CbBlW4A

02:35 — WONWOO

🔞 nsfw link 🔞

i'm sorry but you're going to hell. straight to the boiler room. no excuses!!!!

p.s. read underlying pretense for a good chunk of context!

this was meant to be a regular cosplay-fitting session. you've been receiving new sets to try both from thoughtful fans and sponsors in abundance lately and, while you have a rather...unconventional tradition with these things when your boyfriend comes into the picture, you really just wanted to try them on before hopping into the shower and preparing for your next stream.

meaning: you were being serious when you told wonwoo that you're not trying to get your brains fucked out while he defiles this precious, rather revealing catgirl set that borders on lingerie.

but of course, things rarely ever go your way.

"d-daddy, fuck."

wonwoo's grip on your hips is iron-tight as he pins you to the edge of the mattress—cock fucking into you with relentless precision. he gives you little room to squirm around and with how his eyes are pulled into a mixture of intense concentration and carnal desire, you don't think he'll let you get away anytime soon.

the ruby red mood lights paint his skin in a swath of erotic gusto as wonwoo mutters, "hold your thighs open for me. you can do that, right, baby?"

you nod all too eagerly—his perfect, obedient cockwhore—before doing as you're told. your eagerness frees up his hands and wonwoo wastes no time taking your pretty face in his grasp and leans down to capture your lips.

usually, it's all teeth and tongue whenever your mouths come together in the height of passion—a dizzying bout of lust taking the reins from what's left of your rationality. this time though, wonwoo kisses you firmly, thumb stroking the high of your cheekbone and you swear you feel him smile against you.

"beautiful baby," he whispers—his calculated thrusts slowing to a crawl as the praise makes you preen with a pathetic whimper. "you're cruel for thinking i could ever keep it in my pants when you look so fucking hot in this. who's the fucker that sent these to you anyway?"

fuck. you know it's only been a few weeks since you started officially dating, but you don't think you'll ever get used to wonwoo praising you so easily.

"i-i don't remember," you tell him honestly and your boyfriend merely chuckles, rising just a bit to give his hips more leverage to decimate your poor cunt. "shit. right there, daddy!"

the head of his cock rams against your cervix again and again and again—a sob caught in your throat as each drag stimulates you to no end. one of the perks of fucking you at the edge of your bed is that wonwoo gets to control just how deeply he can penetrate you.

he notes your desperate moans with a smirk, one of his large hands fitting snuggly around your throat as the other lingers by your face. when your boyfriend's thumb prods against your spit-slicked lips, you're all too eager to suck on it like a piece of candy.

wonwoo groans at the sight—the practiced cadence of his thrusts faltering for a millisecond before resuming the punishing pace he's set.

"don't you ever fucking wear this on your streams," he growls, hooking his other thumb into your mouth. when your boyfriend leans down again, you can feel his hot breath fan against your face. "for my eyes only. got that?"

in the back of your mind, you feel like you've had this conversation with him before. but the difference now is that you're no longer toeing around a complex situationship that you were too afraid to give a name to.

this time around, wonwoo is your boyfriend.

your extremely possessive boyfriend, apparently.

"only yours, daddy," you mewl as wonwoo molds your lips into another kiss that feels much too sweet for someone who's just staked his claim on you.

it brings you over the edge anyway.

the sensation of your velvet walls clamping down on his length when your orgasm slams into you is enough to drive wonwoo into bucking his hips against yours erratically. your boyfriend rides out the way your sweet pussy milks his cock for his release like it's begging him to fill you to the brim.

and who is he to deny you what you so desperately want?

wonwoo's hot cum paints your insides in his colors as your boyfriend engraves the sound of you screaming his name into memory. not that he doesn't have enough of that to go around, but whenever he makes you come, wonwoo likes to think it's a brand new experience each time.

though he wouldn't ever say it aloud, there's nothing more that he wants than to share even more of these moments with you.

"no, seriously, who sent you that set? didn't you already get rid of that old twitter account? i saw you deactivate it with my own two eyes."

you giggle at the clipped tone that accompanies wonwoo's words as he helps get you cleaned in the shower. after you wipe off a clump of soap suds that landed on his nose, you stand on your tippy toes to give him a kiss.

"i never gave my address out on twitter though, so it might just be one of those more daring cosplay brands trying to get me to become an ambassador," you reassure with a ditzy smile. "joke's on them though 'cause the only person who'll see me wearing cat girl lingerie is you."

when wonwoo grumbles, "damn straight," under his breath before turning on the shower to rinse off, you consider it as a win in your book.

⟢ end notes: it's been a hot minute since i've acknowledged the existence of gamer!daddy!wonwoo so it's kinda refreshing to write them fucking around again :') i ALSO don't mind being sent nsfw links as long as there's a heads up lol we're all horny here <3