#i unfortunately don't think before speaking

[neongalaxiie]

The heavy, metal door slammed behind me with a loud CLANG! I jumped at the sound, shoulders tensing as I turned around to face the sealed exit.

I let out a nervous laugh. Okay, this is great. I'm trapped. Amazing.

I hugged my notebook tighter against my chest as I turned around to view my subject. I was still unsure as to why I had to be abducted from my own home to carry out an interrogation. I've never done anything like this in the past, and I was sure the agency would have their best people on hand to do this kind of job.

But when my gaze landed on my subject, everything almost made sense. Because sitting on the uncomfortable metal chair, and chained to the bolted table, was me.

I let out a small gasp, stumbling backwards. I hit the door behind me and just... froze, gaping at whoever it was before me.

She really did look like me, albeit much sexier. Her long brown hair rose up in a voluminous high ponytail, with the front strands left out to frame her gorgeous face. I swallowed, absent-mindedly running my fingers through my own frizzy ponytail that didn't look half as pretty.

Then my eyes flicked over the rest of her, taking in the details: long, dark, painted fingernails clicking on the table; her black, dark purple, and red uniform; and the gosh dang cape that spilled off the side of the chair and onto the floor.

I bit my bottom lip, partially out of nervousness, but mostly to keep my grin from showing too obviously.

My double gave me a smirk. "If you've finished gawking," she said, "can we get this interview over and done with? I've got more important things to do than just sit here."

I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle. She sounds just like me, too. And the attitude! When did I become so freaking confident?

"Wait," I said, taking a few steps closer. "You're actually me, though? Or am I just tripping?"

"I'm actually you, though," she replied, the corners of her mouth lifting a little more. "But better. I'm sure you know why."

"Damn, you're, like, a supervillain!" I stopped beside my chair, placing my things on the table and leaning over a little. "That's sick!."

"Well, if you had powers, wouldn't you be one as well?" Her eyebrow quirked upward with the question.

I stood up straight again. "True." I pulled out my chair and plopped into it with a whince, then scooted forward. "So, what powers do you have?"

She gave me a sly smile. "Take a guess."

"Okay, um," I tapped my finger on my chin and pointed at her, "essokinesis?"

She frowned. "I'm not that OP, unfortunately."

I released a puff of air. "Telepathy, then."

"Nope."

"What?" I almost got up from my chair. "Pyschokinesis?"

"Not quite, but close." She seemed to be enjoying this game. "It's a little more OP and often gets con--"

"Oh, I get it," I laughed. "It's telekinesis."

She flashed a grin. "Bingo."

"But, wait!" I almost got up from my chair again, planting my hands on the armrests. "If you've got telekinesis, you could get out, easy. Why are you still trapped here?"

She clinked the chains attatched to her wrists. "I'm not. I'm only here because I wanted to speak with you."

"Hold on," I paused to point a finger at her, "are you the one who requested me to interrogate you?"

"Well, look who's catching on."

I actually stood up this time, rubbing my chin. "But, why? You came all the way here just to talk to me-- wait, how did you even get here?"

"Now, that's a long story," my villain self deadpanned. A bang sounded on the door, then two more. Both of us turned toward it. "And one we unfortunately don't have time for."

I turned back to her and, before I could blink, she had snapped her chains and hurled the table right out of the floor and into the one-way window to my right. Glass scattered into the other room, and the table left a large, jagged hole in the center of the window. The door behind me slammed open, revealing several operatives.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" The agent in front yelled.

"Escaping," the supervillain replied. I was simply flabbergasted, especially when an invisible force lifted my feet off the floor and I started flying.

"Come on," she told me, and I realized she was flying, too. "Let's go someplace where we can talk in private."

Your are your normal, boring self. Today, however, you’ve been abducted by the government to interrogate a super villain from another dimension - Yourself!

[doberbutts]

Hey man, I really appreciate you sharing your perspective about being a man, being Black, and being told whether you're allowed to speak or not. It's interesting to me as a white transmasc to see how our experiences differ and I like learning and being aware of how others are treated, often unfairly, because of it, especially since I don't want to further that treatment. It is genuinely appreciated to hear about.

I think a lot of people get caught up in categorizing people into easy-to-digest groups, and while it's useful sometimes when discussing how certain demographics are treated or can treat others, it's also often used to stereotype individuals based on something they have no choice in being. And when it comes to intersecting identities, race, gender, etc, there's no way people actually think a Black man is treated as a man the way a white man is, let alone a trans man who can have his identity disregarded by any bigot when convenient.

I'm just surprised how many people wrongly took your posts to mean "men should always be allowed to speak about other people's experiences" and then promptly admit to speaking all over your experiences as a trans and Black person anyway. Of course there are times to listen instead, nobody said there wasn't. But sometimes listening involves being uncomfortable and it would do some people well to think about why it makes them uncomfortable before arguing against it.

I apprecaite the kind words!

Unfortunately white discomfort with black truth is a common enough phenomenon that I neither let it impact my writings nor do I give a shit if me speaking my truth has made a white person uncomfortable. Is it a hard pill to swallow that I'm taking white people to task for forgetting that I was raised as a black girl before beginning adulthood as a black man and I'm not willing to forgive them for the racism they showed to me then or even now? Good. Choke. Squirm. Because you're (they're) still going to hear what I have to say.

But it is quite interesting to me that this blog is mostly just about my experiences and people find ways to twist themselves into knots to be angry that I'm talking about something that happened directly to me.

I will not sit down and shut up because I have had enough people tell me to do that when I was a girl and because I'm black and I sure as shit am not going to tolerate it as an adult. Don't like it? Unfollow button's at the top, buhbye!

[mono-dot-jpeg]

born from another timeline - jayce, viktor

summary; "viktor, wake up, hexcore just dropped a hot person" - jayce, probably

genre/extra tags; oneshot, fluff, comedy, maybe some angst, is this considered isekai /j, amnesia?, zauntie! reader, different timeline! reader, the almost too good to be to be true timeline, hexcore knows everything, magic curses, can be seen as romantic or platonic, half baked ending, im sorry this can seen as ambiguous ending

word count; 1.3k

a/n; it's time for some silly silly writing. im changing up some of the request to be a little more interesting. im not great at interpreting long requests like this bc they can be a lot for me, and sometimes, with requesting in excitement, they can have some parts that dont make sense. but i still hope it's enjoyable. also i have no idea if my addition to this request made sense but i was too committed so. enjoy :)

you don't remember a fucking thing. all you know is that something called a hexcore spit you out, and now you're floating in the air with two really hot people. and you're undoubtedly panicking, and they're panicking too.

generally, a lot of panic.

when you finally manage to stop floating, the situation settles a little bit. at least for the two men that were floating with you.

"how did you get here?" but unfortunately, you had to be questioned. which was reasonable, you would probably do the same.

a yordle creature is trying to question you and your origins, but your mind can't seem to conjure up anything that would be a viable answer. "i.. don't know. but where exactly am i?"

the yordle, heimerdinger, informs you that you are in piltover and introduce you to viktor and jayce as well.

"piltover.. i definitely didn't know that this was piltover because i've never been around there."

"do you remember anything about your home?"

"not much. but i'm from the undercity." you answer. and that leaves the young scientists to ponder why exactly the hexcore brought you here. was it really that powerful to just teleport people from the undercity to piltover?

nothing seemed to be clicking. and so, they decide to escort you back to the dark lanes of the undercity.

but when you reach the bridge, viktor can spot the shine of confusion in your eyes.

"wait.. this is the undercity, right?" you looked over at the glum streets. "but.."

"but what? it always has been like this."

"this isn't.." you head pulses with pain as a memory tries to break through. "the undercity wasn't like this. it was-" before you can even speak about your home, it feels like you have the wind knocked out of you. your breath heaving as you cough near uncontrollably. jayce and viktor are quick to offer a hand to help you. jayce holds you steady, and viktor offers a hesitant but gentle hand. "it wasn't like this.." you can only mutter as another cough tickles your throat, threatening to come out. it doesn't take long for the two men to come up with a different thought instead.

"i don't think you're from our world." viktor said slowly.

"but i'm from runeterra, i live in zaun, i know that much." you get a little defensive. "and i know that, this isn't the zaun i live in."

"i think it's much more different than what v is saying. let's just head back."

viktor should've realized sooner as a zaunite himself. you didn't wear any worn-out dirtied clothing or had that scent of undercity smoke and gasoline that always permeated around the lanes. you were different from the undercity he knew.

with enough convincing to heimerdinger, he agrees to let you stay in piltover, but viktor and jayce would have to be responsible for you. which admittedly feels a little offending as you're not any kind of irresponsible pet or kid, but you wave off the annoyance for a more pressing problem.

"i'm from a different timeline?"

"it sounds crazy, i know." jayce immediately tells you, just seeing the incredulous look on your face. "but it seems like the most logical conclusion. you said you were from runeterra, you were from the undercity, and that the undercity you know doesn't look the way our undercity does."

"it could be entirely possible that you can even be from a different universe in general, ehh... i suppose that would be like a timeline, too." viktor sucked in a breath through his slightly clenched teeth as he tried to wonder over the details of what counted as a universe or timeline.

"the point is, this isn't the runeterra you know. and we don't know how to get you back."

and so you basically had a reset button on your life, now living in a world that was close to yours.. but not quite.

heimerdinger had concluded that there was some sort of magic binding on your memories, not allowing you to speak too much detail of them. and there seemed to be no loopholes for it. you would be stuck like that for an unknown amount of time.

that was concerning, to say the least. but not as concerning as trying to remember that this isn't the world you know. you're not meant to be here. but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't curious about how this world functioned compared to yours.

you were naturally really interested in the hextech. and it seemed like the hexcore was interested in you, it spit you out into here after all.

"do you think the hexcore is the reason i can't talk about my home?" you asked the two scientists as you stared at the core of magic and science.

"it would make sense. in a way. it's the only magic you've been exposed to. and directly in contact with.. obviously." viktor said with matter of fact tone.

it seemed like it was the only somewhat reasonable answer. and there was only one solution to you; live this new life. you don't remember everything that happened in your old life, and even if you did, you'd be coughing up your lungs before you can get a word out about it.

alternate reality and timelines really aren't fun, you realize quickly. you live in this.. new piltover and zaun and it's.. really off-putting. like knowing that everything is fine, but your mind is telling you that there's something just so wrong.

your identity blends in just enough with the support of viktor and jayce. but you don't feel right. viktor easily can sense that feeling of isolation. he understands it too well. it's the face he's seen on multiple zaunites like himself. when they don't know if they really belong in this world.

he tugs you away into his side of the lab as the gentle whirring of the hexcore hums with life, mocking you that you have no way home. jayce had left to pick up some dinner for you three, and you stayed behind for the sole reason of not having anything better to do (and maybe even keep viktor company).

the look in his sharp amber eyes is hesitant before he speaks. "how are you feeling?" he asked within the ambiance of the lab. he doesn't look at you, turning to mindlessly fiddle with his work-in-progress hex claw.

you shrugged halfheartedly with a hum, "i don't know. it just..." you let out a sigh. "it doesn't feel right."

"what doesn't?"

"being here." he lets you continue if you want, stopping his tinkering to look at you. your eyebrows furrow with a frown on your lips. "i don't know. maybe i'm just being delusional."

he pursues his lips, trying to find the right words to say. "i'm sorry we can't find a way back to your home." he said softly. "i can't imagine how it feels like to live in a world so similar but so different from home." he takes your wrist gently to guide you to an empty chair next to him.

you sit down slowly. he looks at your disheartened face.

"i'm not great at comfort like this. jayce would probably do much better than me right now. he gives a great hug." he laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood. "but i'm not going to sit back and let you be alone on the pain." his eyes swirl with warmth. you can tell he's trying his best to comfort you.

"do you think.. we would ever meet back in my timeline?"

before viktor could answer, the door opens, revealing the golden boy himself.

"i got us some dinner!" his smile oblivious and bright, unware of the heavy air as his presence seems more bright than the setting sun.

you don't feel like you belong in plitover, but you know you belong with viktor and jayce at least.

[ghouljams]

hi ghoul i have a question of the sex-ed variety sorry for rambling: why do you think performing oral sex is so villainized / demonized in conversation? we live in the most modern of times where casual approaches to sex seem so commonplace and ppl are more willing to talk abt things they enjoy etc. Receiving oral sex seems all the rage in popculture mentions etc but there still seems to be so much stigma/judgement about everyday convos re: performing it? i’m so confused when imo one cant exist w/o the other? ive heard ppl say its a lack of selfrespect thing for those afab or for those amab its not manly to do. which seems like an oversimplification but as an abstinent, religious-trauma virgin idk if i have the range to see all sides of the convo lmao

So this is going to be mostly personal opinion since I can't speak to this on a scientific or sociological level.

I think there's a massive disconnect culturally between pleasure for yourself and pleasure for others that stems from what you could call "radical individualism." There's this mentality of "I want to get mine, I don't care if you get yours" that a lot of people have and it can bleed into sexual conversations as well. So that's one part of it: the idea that getting something for yourself is good, but why would you go out of your way to help others?

Then another part, which I've talked about before, is the disgust around male bodies. This is a lot to do with the way terf politics and exclusionary "feminism" has seeped into common culture. There is a recent and evolving idea that vagina=good and penis=bad, that I think a lot of afab people are beginning to fall into because it feels retaliatory. All your life you're told that you're lesser for having a vagina and suddenly you're allowed to say that the opposite is true! It feels liberating, but it's a trap.

I see this in queer circles as well. Bisexual women will talk about being "unfortunately" into men, or they'll be accused of faking their attraction to women because of their attraction to me. People will talk loudly about how gross men are and how they hate men and how they think being attracted to men is a moral failing. So we begin to associate amab bodies with disgust. Penis=bad, right? So then attraction to penis=bad too, right?

Then we get into pop culture. Women in media are still very much centered as being forced or coerced into alternative forms of sex. We hear jokes about anal on birthdays, about having to convince your girlfriend to give you a blowjob, about various non-missionary positions being reserved for special occasions, and all of them center the amab person as undesireable. They focus on afab people not enjoying things that their amab partner does. And the implication often is that because the afab person doesn't get any sexual gratification out of this they must not want to do it. After all, men don't get any sexual gratification out of giving oral, so why should women?

(that's a lie of course, plenty of people --I would say most people-- enjoy giving their partner oral, but you understand the hyperbole here.)

So. Why can we enjoy receiving oral, but we can't enjoy giving it? Because we have been told we aren't supposed to. Sex is framed as a grand sacrifice that afab people make for their amab partner. Oral is something that media says no one enjoys giving. People talk about enjoying oral in terms of oral fixations and kink and "oh you only like that because of your deviance" seems to be the message that gets thrown out when someone mentions it. Biting has become more socially acceptable than sucking dick. The idea that people want to hurt their partner, is more socially acceptable than bringing them pleasure.

Just sit with that for a second because I have to.

You're absolutely right, there can't be one without the other, you can't receive oral without your partner giving it. I struggle with this A LOT and Mr. Ghoul is a saint for working with me on it, but I feel guilty asking for oral, like I'm forcing my partner to do something they don't enjoy. Despite being told by my partner that he likes eating me out, despite the fact that I like blowing him, it's hard for me as an afab person to accept that my partner enjoys pleasuring me. I've never been told that's an option.

While I think there's a lot that we as a society need to unpack in terms of sexuality and sexual expression, I think this movement of "I don't pleasure my partner, my partner pleasures me" is going to lead to a lot of unhappy relationships. A very small but loud group of men says they don't care about making their partner come, the general population does, but as it often happens shitty people focus on shitty people.

I don't want this to devolve into Ghoul talking about terf-cult politics and the way they love alt-right men's movements, so I'll leave it there, but those are my thoughts on it.

[plunderherz]

I have to say that this Vulture article about Neil Gaiman really shook me to the core. Not because I was ever a big Gaiman fan, but because I loved Amanda Palmer, whose silence is currently making me all angrier. She's always talking! All the time! Now, when she should be talking, she's silent. And that drives me crazy.

We need to talk about the victims. About art. And idealisation.

What I'm writing here might trigger some readers, so this warning first.

The year before last, when there was this debate about Rammstein, I received a huge backlash for my statement on FB from many - mainly male - fellow musicians, promoters and DJs, which eventually ended up being much less about Rammstein and much more about women in general daring to talk about metoo in the entertainment industry. The debate was still very fresh at the time and I dared to say that something had to change. And that really shocked me. There were people I knew; not trolls, not anonymous people hiding behind avatars; who I actually valued and who I was sure weren't too stupid to peel a banana.

The comments ranged from ‘There have always been groupies’, to ‘Who knows what the back story is’, ‘He doesn't need it’ and ‘They all just want their 15 minutes of fame’. Was that because that's how it's learnt? Accepted? Because as men, they've never had to go through such experiences?

And then I inevitably wondered why the artist who is being criticised is the one who is constantly being talked about. Fans wondering what's going to happen to their fandom, work and author and stuff, colleagues defending colleagues, amateur psychologists snooping around the internet and thinking they've found something fishy in the ‘evil whistleblower's’ CV. You have to keep the legend alive. Somehow. Instead of talking about wrongdoing.

Why is there no talk about these girls who obviously experienced something that made them speak out at some point? And it doesn't matter what the back story is: No means no means no. Even if it was wanted before and then it wasn't: no still means no. And honestly: nobody wants 15 minutes of fame with a story like the one I had to read in detail today. Really nobody. BDSM, kinks, back and forth, if everything is consensual, everyone should do what they like - but: No means no.

And then we're sitting here, it's 2025, after Harry Weinstein and all these other horrible things and we still have to talk about filth like this. Now about someone who had such a nice feminist image like Neil Gaiman.

Talk about these girls, dammit. Listen to them! How many women have a story to tell and are afraid to talk? How many women and girls (and all other genders too!) have experienced a history of abuse or other sexual violence and live in shame and fear every day and have to stay silent! Be fucking loud! Get help! You are not alone! And dear fans of all art forms: What you love is the work of an artist. Not the artist himself. And no matter how great he or she may seem, no matter what clever things he/she says in interviews (if you only knew how much of it is clearly agreed….); the person behind it is not your friend. You don't know him or her.

Most of the ‘groupies’ I've met backstage in my life have been the opposite of what I imagine them to be. Not sex-crazed sassy bitches who do it for fun. Instead, they were very lovable, very emotional and sometimes naively romantic girls who later slipped into something that they later bitterly regretted. And who, unfortunately, didn't let themselves be talked out of it beforehand.

And I'll say it again: something has to change. Talk to your sons. And your daughters. And help them so that they never find themselves in such a situation of power.

[sciderman]

I didn't want to ask about the hospital stuff, but I'm glad to hear you'll be getting treatment!! And I really really hope it goes well and helps you feel better, you deserve a less stressful life, a beautiful life free of the brain bees. My heart is with you!!

thank you so much anon!! i've been doing SO much to quiet the brain bees and it takes so, so much out of my day to keep those brain bees quiet. cannot WAIT to not have an active beehive in my skull.

[blackbatcass]

hii linden!!

I wanted to know your thoughts on the cass knowing/using sign language?? I personally don’t think it would make sense given how she struggles with learning english and all its ins-and-outs and people usually subscribe to the ‘she uses sign language’ as a link to her body language reading abilities even though sign language has its own complexities and rules to follow or/and use it to explain away why she’s not talking/gives 1/2 word responses even tho finding her voice and being able to articulate things in a clear way is a big part of her/her character, sorry for rambling i just wanted to know your thoughts given you know more about her character and if you think it would make sense for her

hiya! yeah you're completely right. i think fandom played some kind of extensive game of telephone wrt cass & sign language to the point where large swathes of people are convinced that cass communicates exclusively through asl. it just doesn't...make a whole lot of sense when you look at canon and her actual journey to learning english. cass isn't mute, she can speak. there's nothing actually wrong with her vocal chords. lots of people have pointed out that assuming cass would learn sign language as an 'easier' alternative to english is kind of an ableist way of thinking. asl is a language, the same way spoken languages are language, and cass's disability would still apply. cass's language disability isn't specifically that she has trouble speaking & vocalizing, it's language processing in general- because she was raised without language of any kind. asl wouldn't be any easier for her to grasp than english. i think people are well-meaning when they headcanon cass as using sign language because of how it connects to her ability to read body language, but like you said, it's...kind of ignoring a lot of her development to do so.

[amischiefofmuses]

.

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Just finished the show a few days ago, so that's why I'm only just posting this now.

[arklay]

MR. & MRS. WESKER 🤍

i was able to commission the lovely @rcehb-art on twitter for this piece of diana and wesker during their strange after-the-fact reception for their very private wedding. i am just so in love with this and how it turned out, and i can't thank rc enough !! she is so kind and amazing to work with and i can't recommend her enough if you're looking to commission artwork ♡

[starlit-roses-ships]

before i change my theme to suit my current f/o fixation i suppose now is a good a time to mention that asta.rion from bg3 is an f/o now lol 😅

[angeltism]

the pathetic wet cat energy is strong with this one (this one = me)

[marshmellowtea]

Interviewer: What shows do you and your dad watch together?

Kendall: CSI Crime Scene, Nightmare Next Door...Law and Order SVU, lot of crime shows.

Kendall: No relation to anything I'm planning to do, or have thought about doing, or am thinking about doing, or am planning on doing...

Logan: ......

[asinglesock]

Gristle is soooooo scared of my violin. She especially hates the low notes, tremolo and anything too loud. She will cautiously sniff my bow but she shies away from the violin even if I barely pluck a string.

[yuki-world]

秦彻 | SYLUS ; PLAN

summary | sylus sets a time limit for you to retrieve the brooch from him. unfortunately, you don't get it in time no matter how hard you try, but fortunately, it's sylus you're dealing with.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, mention of handcuffs, vaginal penetration, creampie, 2.9k words

a/n : inspired by his affinity lvl 15 story (?) aka the one where he gets handcuffed to the bed

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“oh,” sylus raises a brow, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. he’s handcuffed to his own bed with you straddling him, teasing him by tracing your index finger over his body. just how cocky were you?

sylus takes a deep breath in. “so you think you’ve got me now, is that right?”

you hum in response, stopping your finger near his abdomen. “think? no, i know,” you reply confidently, letting out a slight scoff. there was no way he could move, so you could find it freely as you pleased. this was the best scenario, and luckily you didn’t fumble it as this was your last attempt before the deadline reached.

unbeknownst to you, it’s not that he couldn’t un-cuff himselfー it’s actually quite offensive that you think that. it’s more of him wanting to see how far you would go if he wasn’t going to intervene, because it’s fun. how adorable you look thinking you’ve won, how eager you look to finally win against him in something. and so, he watches. eyes locked onto your every action and reaction as you try to find the hidden brooch.

you start at the top of his robe near his neck, your hand making it’s way down, slowly feeling for any small and hard object. you pat at the material rested on his chest, but still no sign.

sylus gives you a small smirk, and you narrow your eyes. you didn’t exactly trust him per se, even if he promised to keep his word. what if this was just a trick? what if he was just toying with you? what if he didn’t have the brooch?”

“are you sure the brooch is even on you?” you questioned. his growing smirk was only making you more suspicious by the minute.

“accusing me, kitten?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “you haven’t even finished looking.”

you roll your eyes at his words, mumbling a small whatever under your breath as you continued looking for the brooch. you smoothed your palm down his robe, patting around his waist. still nothing.

you were getting desperate at this pointー you were almost there. this was the best effort you’ve made so far, and you weren’t going to let your plan fail so easily. you swallow, trailing your hand further down his robe, albeit hesitantly. your hands were at his thigh, the thin material the only thing separating your skin with his.

mentally shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you continue feeling for where the brooch might be.

suddenly, you feel something hard. it’s hard, no mistake, but it was far from small.

…that’s definitely not the brooch.

“i’d be careful where you’re touching,” sylus speaks, his voice almost making you jump as you retracted your hand quickly. a tinge of red spreads across your cheeks, and you try to defend yourself.

“shutー quiet,” you stuttered. “i didn’t mean to, okay? sorry,” you apologized, breathing out as you tried to maintain your composure. focus on the goal, you repeated to yourself over and over again. you meet his eyes for a split second, and god, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you get distracted as you panicked to look for the brooch.

you finally get to the bottom of his robe, but you find absolutely nothing. where else could he have hidden it? he had to have it with him… that was a rule, right?

“i swear, you’re playing with me,” you accused, defeated. how was this possible? you set everything up perfectly, and the one thing you couldn’t do was find the broochー despite being able to check him freely? “be honest, is it really on you or not?” you asked, squishing his cheeks together with your hand so he looks at you.

“oh, look at that,” he states, ignoring your question before tilting his head up slightly, glancing at the clock, then back to you.

“time’s up.”

you hear a soft click, your head snapping to the sound of the handcuffs unlocking as you let your hand fall.

your body moves instinctively, feet touching the floor as you push yourself off his bed to make your escape.

…only for him pull you back and throw you onto the bed, landing with a soft thud against his pillow. you try to lift yourself up again, but your wrists get pinned by his larger handsー all the more making it hard to move. you start to squirm a little, but decide it’s of no use.

“you really are naive,” sylus sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. how you thought a pair of poorly made handcuffs were supposed to restrict him was beyond comprehendible. “since you didn’t find it in time, i get to have my way with you.”

“whatever, justー just get on with it.” you roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help the sudden wave of pleasure that shoots through your body at his words.

complying, he slams his lips against yours, the kiss filled with hunger and greed. the kiss was far from sloppyー he made sure you felt everything, both physically and emotionally, very calculated. his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, and you gasp.

he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the wet sounds of making out filling his room as he continued to french kiss you.

removing his hand from one of your wrists, he opts to grip your waist instead, subtly pushing your shirt higher and higher, until your bra was exposed.

you shouldn’t be enjoying this. yet here you were, squirming under him as your thighs rubbed against one another, eager to feel any sort of stimulation. his mouth felt so warm as he continued kissing you, and so did the atmosphere.

feeling the movement of your thighs, he lets go of your other wrist, spreading your legs apart before slotting himself in between them, his crotch flushed against you. he doesn’t break the kiss once, letting you grind onto his hardened bulge to relieve yourself.

“sylus,” you breathed out, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. you panted softly, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips as he pulled back.

“what, kitten?” he leans back smugly, admiring how red your lips were. all his doing, of course. “you can’t even handle a bit of kissing?”

“that was not a bit of kissing,” you retorted, looking away. you noticed your clothes were starting to stick onto your skin, presumably from the heat. you start to slowly unbutton your shirt one by one, but he’s not having any of that.

he smacks your hand away, ripping open the shirt like it was paper, some buttons popping off. you couldn't even protest as he pulled your bra down, exposing your tits.

"what the fuck, sylus! that was my favorite shirt," you scolded, furrowing your brows. it was one of the few shirts you decided to splurge on after contemplating for a long time, and the fact that he just tore it like that...

"how much?" he questions, squeezing one of your tits.

"what? like, a little over a hundredー"

"insignificant," he cuts you off, latching onto one of your nipples. he already knew whatever value you said wouldn't matter much to himー he could buy you a million of those shirts and there wouldn't be a single dent to his bank account.

he continues to suck and fondle, alternating between each tit to give them equal attention. he bites occasionally, each time making you gasp. you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling every time he sucked or bit too hard.

after what felt like hours, sylus finally pulls off you with a pop, staring at the red marks, shining with his saliva around your tits. even better that it's from his doing. he lets out a satisfied sigh.

"don't... look at me like that," you whisper, covering his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing your palm to his lips to kiss it. "you're getting shy now? you weren't earlier when you were touching me all over," he points out, pulling your pants and underwear off in one clean motion.

"and don't think i forgot when you brushed against my..."

"that's 'cause i was looking for the brooch!" you argued, letting out a defeated sigh. "...just fuck me already."

"it's interesting that you think you're in any position to make demands." he flips you over onto your hands and knees, giving your ass a loud slap, resonating throughout the room. "ass up, don't take your own sweet time."

you clicked your tongue at his attitude, but did as he told anyway. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you were eager. the last time the both of you had sex, he fucked you until you were on the brink of tears, moaning and drooling into his pillows that he had to change them after. it was amazing, to say the very least.

sylus shifts behind you, undoing his robe and getting rid of his boxers quickly. his cock stands erected, large obviously, and it's clear he's already been hard since the beginning. even if you don't turn around to look, you knew just how much pre-cum was leaking from his cock as he rubs the coated tip between your embarrassingly wet folds. so much so that you didn't even need any preparationー not even his fingers to spread your pussy open.

he gives your ass another slap again, before guiding his cock into your tight entrance. your pussy stretches around him to accommodate his girth, instinctively clamping down the moment it entered.

"ngh, sylus," you moan, fingers gripping onto his sheets, pillows, anything you could grab on to as he pushed more of his inches into you. you'll never get enough of how big he feels inside you, the empty space previously now filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out to mold your insides to the shape of him.

"fuck... always so fucking tight, huh?" sylus exhales, bottoming out inside you. though, there was still some of his length left that your cunt couldn't take in. "this cock is too big for you."

you whined in response, spreading your legs further to take more of him in comfortably, but you could barely do so from how filled you were. there was simply no space inside you.

"aw, too much for you, kitten?" he mocks. pulling back to leave only his tip in, before slamming his entire length back into you.

"shutー ahー up!" you cry out as you jerk forward from the sheer force of his thrust. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust of his cock. you should've known he was only going to go faster, his seemingly sweet and slow pace disappearing the moment he starts pounding into you at rapid speeds. his balls were hitting your clit every time he pushed his cock in, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your sounds get louder and louder each time he fucks into you, so much so that you have to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. it was going to happen againー his pillows stained with drool.

he slammed his hips against your ass harder, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. "sylus... mmph!" you moan, his name coming out unclear from how muffled you were.

"hmm?" he hums in question, pulling your hair to lift your face off the pillow. "who said that you could hide your pretty sounds?"

sylus pulls out before flipping you over again, this time taking a few seconds to admire your fucked out state. your face was flushed, half-lidded eyes and drool dribbling down the side of your mouth. he doesn't think he's ever seen a prettier sight.

"you're drooling," he points out, using his thumb to wipe some of it away. well, you knew that, but you don't care, because at this point, all you can think about is his cock. you've never been more grateful to him, more thankful that you met him, as he pushes his cock into you once more.

your walls feel so good around him, he has to take a brief breather before starting to thrust. such a tight cunt, he thinks again, because it's trueー he's never fucked this good of a pussy. wrapping around him so warmly, clenching onto him in all the right ways. he could die happy like this. he could die happy with you.

"fuck me, fuck meー fuck me," you beg, snapping him out of his thoughts. you push up against him, trying to move on your own, to take more of him in, to just do something. the lack of stimulation was killing you.

"stop," he hisses, gripping your thigh to stop you. "you're going to hurt yourself. let me do it."

and then he starts again, fucking you with so much vigor that you mentally question just how much stamina he actually has. he never lets his pace falter from then onwards, railing you as the bed starts to move along to his movements.

with no pillow to bury your face in, you couldn't hide your moans even if you wanted toー exactly what he wanted. you were screaming, "harderー fuckー yes! right there!"

"so noisy in bed," he groans, hands reaching up to intertwine your fingers with him. a small and sweet gesture, the complete opposite of how roughly he was ramming his cock deep inside you. repeatedly, at that same exact spot that had your eyes rolling backwards. if anyone was outside his doorー hell, not even outside his door, maybe even at a few rooms away, they would definitely still be able to hear you.

you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you thought. "sylus, i wannaー make me cum, please!"

no, he wanted to say. this wasn't your reward, you didn't even find the brooch. but he couldn't. because he was close too.

sylus wasn't going to deny you even if you didn't ask so nicely, even if you demanded him to. he knows the exact look on your face as you cum, and it's the same, perfect, expression that he loves so much each time. at your request, he lets go of one of your hands, dipping his fingers into your mouth before trailing down to rub circles around your clit.

unnecessary? yes, you were already soaking wet. just for good measure, he thinks. besides, you looked sexy with your mouth wrapped around his fingers, almost struggling with how much larger his digits were.

you start squirming, squeezing his hand tighter as he continues thrusting while rubbing, a deadly combo. "fuckー thaaat's it, be a good girl and cream on my cock."

"oh myー sylus!" you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his hand, and your back arches off the bed. your pussy starts tightening and spasming around him like a vice. he feels you get so much, so much wetter that his cock almost slips out of you as he pulls back.

"such a sweet expression," he groans at the sight, pushing your legs back as he tries to angle his cock deeper into you. you try to close your legs from sensitivity, but he simply won't let you, not when he's so close to cumming.

"ohー yes, fuuuck..." he throws his head back with a final snap of his hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he pumps your pussy with cum, his thick load of semen coating your insides with warmth.

coming down from his high with a few more weak spurts of cum, he lets his head fall back down, a contented sigh as he pulls out slowly with a loud squelch. you whimper at the sensitivity, but also at the loss of his cock. his load takes a few seconds to dribble out, thick and creamy, leaving a trail down to your ass.

"satisfied?" he tilts his head, letting your legs down. "seems like you're done for tonight."

"yeah," you breathe out in exhaustion, feeling his hand caress your cheek. "the brooch," you paused, suddenly remembering.

"where is it, and... what's the actual punishment?"

sylus looks at you amused, reaching over to his robe tossed somewhere on the floor, unpinning the brooch before holding it towards you. "looking for this?"

you widened your eyes. how could it have been in his robe? you literally searched everywhereー

"i know what's going on in that little head of yours," he sighs, opening your palm to put it in your hand. "you got distracted, remember? you brushed past it and didn't even notice, kitten."

you groaned in frustration, mad at yourself that you didn't even notice. you basically just accused him for nothing.

"...and the actual punishment? for not getting the brooch in time?"

"no punishment," he states smugly, watching your lips part in disbelief.

"seriously? i put in a lot of effort into these plans, you know!" you smack his chest lightly. "i can't believe you."

"i'd say you gained a lot more than you lost," he says as a matter-of-factly, eyeing the white mess oozing out of your cunt.

"...shut up."

ー @yuki-world

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Oh my god." The kid muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the summoning circle anxiously as he clutched some old book to his chest, "Oh my god, I just killed Nightwing."

"Uh," Nightwind started to speak, but didn't get far.

"Oh my god, my dad is Nightwing!"

"Wait, what?!"

That seemed to catch the boys attention and...yeah the kid looked a lot like he did as a teen. "I, uh" The kid rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I'm kinda your clone. My parents made me and told me recently about how I was born and I wanted to meet you!"

He threw his hands up in the air, one hand still clasping the book, "They told me you were dead, so I tried to summon your ghost! I swear I didn't know!" This seemed to switch him back into whatever spiral ge was in before, "Oh god, I killed my own father."

Dick hurried to speak before he lost the chance again, "I'm probably still alive."

"Huh?" The kid looked over at him, a hint of hope in his features

"Yeah," Nightwing shrugged, "some other bats were with me. They're trained to keep my vitals up until they can get me back to the cave. Plus, I felt my soul pulled out of my body by force. I don't think you actually stopped anything from functioning."

The kid sagged with relief, "So batman isn't going to murder me?"

An odd sound came from within the summoning circle as Nightwing covered his mouth

"Are you laughing at me?! I'm being serious!"

This time, the vigilante made no move to hide his laughter, "We don't kill kiddo, besides he probably won't maul his own grandkid, right?"

Unfortunately this gave the kid something new to spiral over, "Oh god, my grandpa is Batman."

"How about we start over?" The bluebird asked, "I'm Nightwing, what's your name?"

"Um, Danny. Danny Fenton."

Dick gave an award winning smile, "Nice to meet you, Danny. Could you break the circle so I can get out?"