#Object Permanence prompts

[cuteniarose]

thoughts on ming-hua x p'li??

Unfairly attractive OTP rare pair that deserve a lot more love than they get, what else can I say?

[sheericetorrent]

my deepest condolences for who follows me for my art but all ive done lately is edit the part where riku (ansem??) finishes lexaeus off

this, if you are familiar with the CoM fandub

[kxsagi]

OK LISTEN!! WHO ARE THE BLLK CHARACTERS WHO WILL SET THE WORLD ON BURN FOR YOU? BY THE WAY, I ADMIRE YOUR WORK❤️‍🔥🫶

“𝐢’𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH MWAH MWAH

btw this prompt reminded me of the song LET THE WORLD BURN by chris grey so ofc i had to use it as the title

and i interpret “i would set the world on fire for you” as extremely down bad and possessive energy… so that’s what i wrote the headcanons about

ft. kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, mikage reo, karasu tabito, kunigami rensuke

kaiser michael

kaiser is deranged in love. like “touch her and you die in 4K” deranged. 

you so much as sigh in a sad tone and he’s like “name. address. blood type.” 

would burn down an entire stadium if someone catcalled you. he won’t even blink. 

wraps an arm around your waist and stares down anyone who looks at you too long. smug as hell. 

“you see someone else? cute. they’ll be ashes by morning.” 

kisses you possessively, like he’s marking territory. dramatic. always wants an audience. 

buys you stuff just so people know someone can afford to worship you. 

jealous of inanimate objects. “that blanket gets to be around you all night? unfair.” 

will 100% tattoo your name somewhere stupid like over his heart or on his ring finger. “it’s not obsession, it’s devotion.” 

shidou ryusei

no thoughts, just “who hurt my baby???” as he sprints into battle. 

does not care about consequences. you told him that person was rude? BANG their tires are gone. 

kisses you like he’s on the verge of losing his mind. tongue, teeth, desperation. he needs you. 

death-grip on your thigh in public. leans into your neck and breathes, “mine.” 

insane levels of down bad. if you look cute, he’s on his knees barking. literally. 

you say “i want this,” and now the whole mall is yours. “baby wants? baby gets.” 

gets upset if you're too polite to people. “what’s with that smile, huh? you wanna die for them or what?” 

your name is his phone password, tattoo idea, safe word, AND ringtone. 

itoshi rin

silently simmering with rage when someone even slightly inconveniences you. 

doesn’t talk shit. just handles it. and by “handles it,” i mean permanent erasure from society. 

down bad in the scariest way. he won’t say “i need you,” but if you even joke about leaving, he freezes. 

pulls you close by the collar and whispers “don’t test me.” you’re the only softness in his life. 

his world is just you, football, and the pile of people he’s ready to fight for looking at you wrong. 

if you cry, he goes silent and leaves the room. not because he’s heartless. because he’s planning someone’s downfall. 

possessive in public. hand on your waist. glares that say “touch her and you'll lose a limb.” 

doesn’t believe in second chances for your enemies OR for anyone who flirts with you. 

“they don’t get to see you smile. not like that. that’s mine.” 

itoshi sae

dangerously calm when jealous. but you know it’s bad when he goes quiet quiet. 

his version of setting the world on fire? controlling every outcome so your life is perfect and your enemies fail publicly. 

you think he’s chill? he’s not. he’s been watching your ex’s linkedin profile for weeks. “just waiting for the right moment.” 

pulls you in by the chin when someone looks your way and gives you a long kiss on purpose so they get the message. 

“no one else touches you. you get that, right?” 

wants your lipstick on his collar and your scent on his hoodie. it’s a warning. 

he will show up to your haters' events, uninvited, just to watch their life crumble from the front row. 

low-key manipulative. makes you feel so special you’ll never want to leave. ever. 

“you’re all i have. so no one else gets to have you. period.” 

mikage reo

most unhinged part? he looks polite and composed doing it. he smiles while planning war. 

"they hurt your feelings? alright. new mission: emotionally ruin them and buy the company they work for." 

will ruin someone's financial life because they looked at you wrong. “whoops. guess they’re bankrupt now.” 

literally has a “spoiling you” budget larger than most countries’ GDP. 

possessive in a delicate way. he’s not clingy, he’s just always there. pulling you into his lap. whispering in your ear. slipping his card into your pocket like “go wild, baby.” 

kisses your hand, your temple, your shoulder – subtle marks of ownership. especially in public. 

gets jealous of people breathing near you, but keeps it cool… until he doesn’t. 

“oh, you think you can take her from me? that’s cute. security, escort him out.” 

buys the rights to your favorite book/movie/show so he can cast himself as your love interest. dead serious. 

makes everything about you. “why start wars when i can end them with your smile?” 

and god forbid you call him your “boyfriend” in public. “no, no. say ‘future husband.’ say it right.” 

karasu tabito

smart, manipulative, and terrifyingly efficient when someone wrongs you. 

smiles in public. burns people in private. 

down bad in a playful way until someone makes you cry. then it’s scorched earth. 

“you deserve better. so i became better. for you. but they? they get hell.” 

lowkey wants you dependent on him. not in a creepy way, just in a “nobody else will love you like this” way. 

hand on your thigh while he’s whispering in your ear at parties: “they’re staring. should i say something, baby?” 

makes it his business to know everyone you hate. because now he hates them too. 

will absolutely send you a selfie with your enemy crying in the background. “justice served.” 

kunigami rensuke (post-wild card)

he tries to be reasonable, he really does, but the minute you get hurt? his whole moral compass shatters. 

the definition of controlled rage. he holds it in until he’s alone, then starts punching walls and pillows. 

when he’s possessive, it’s like protective dog energy. he’s literally hovering over you. 

doesn’t even let people near you in crowds. hand always on your back, guiding you like a damn bodyguard. 

stares down people who flirt with you. doesn’t say a word, just stares. 

kisses you slow, deep, possessive, because he needs you to know he means it. 

if someone cheats or lies to you? “i’ll make them regret ever existing.” and he does. mercilessly. 

looks at you like you're the only good thing in the world. “you’re mine. and i don’t share.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[rose-morose]

ok we need to have a chat about Kit from Jentry Chau vs the Underworld

(as per usual long spoilers under the cut)

he is a great character, but you all are misunderstanding the point behind his reveal to Jentry as a painted skin

the show finally gives us the dignity to be accepting of a person for being different right out of the gate, like Jentry was surprised by Kit's true appearance, but not unaccepting

whereas other shows often like to give us the whole *you wouldn't like me because I'm different no I would I swear never mind you were right I don't like you anymore* Jentry Chau vs the Underworld gives Jentry a good reason for why she doesn't accept Kit

Jentry later explains herself very clearly to Kit and why she doesn't trust him, it's because he manipulated her, seduced her, tried to kill her, and did the one thing that everyone else does to her, the thing she hates most, he tried to use her to get what he wants

she can't trust that his feelings for her are real, and it's not just because he is a demon and his book entry says "can't feel emotion" or whatever, she has been given good reason to believe that the book is right and she shouldn't trust him, not because he was lying about being a demon, but because he tried to kill her at the orders of the man that she believed had murdered her parents, because he had planted a pearl on her that manipulated her desire to see her parents to lead her into a trap, because he had spied on her and pretended to also be into the things she likes just to get close enough to kill her, and his reasons for doing all of that were entirely selfish, he planned on trading her soul for a soul of his very own

Jentry eventually forgives Kit, but not because she has reconciled that he is a demon, she realizes that Kit is just like her, his manipulation wasn't his own plan, he is a pawn in someone else's game, like her he is being used by another party to get what they want, and like her he wants out

this prompts her to come up with a plan to get them both out of the game, if Jentry can transfer the powers that Flora and Cheng are fighting over from her to something else, then theoretically Flora would no longer need Jentry, and Cheng would no longer need Kit in order to get close to Jentry

she enlists Kit's help to achieve this objective, and it works (temporarily), freeing Jentry and Kit from the rivalry that they both wanted no part of

Kit then takes this opportunity to try and form a romantic relationship with Jentry, but she declines citing a need for "normalcy"

again, not because she doesn't accept him as a person, Jentry is doing everything she can to put her supernatural past behind her whether it's Cheng, the mogui, her gugu, her parents, her powers, Diyu, or ghosts, but she is content keeping friends around like Ed and Kit

and it's worth mentioning that Jentry noticed Kit's desire to be with her was entirely selfish and self serving, he wanted his own happiness no matter the cost, even if it meant stealing from Jentry, and his behavior around her was hardly rational, stalking her, smashing lockers, scaring her, he wasn't exactly trying to formulate a healthy relationship

she is later upset with Kit for breaking her trust once again, and stealing from her to achieve the same selfish goal as before

but Kit finds redemption in the end, not redemption for being a demon, redemption for being selfish, and he does this by sacrificing himself to save Jentry's life, something from which he had nothing to gain, and even admits what Jentry suspected, that his wanting to be with her was selfish, but he proved that he could be selfless and put others first

people are saying he got done dirty, but it was that sacrifice that made him not only a good person, but a good character that was capable of growing and evolving, and his absence from the rest of the show, suggesting that his death may have been permanent, made his sacrifice all the more meaningful

Jentry is hardly perfect, but she isn't the monster some have accused her of being

why wouldn't Jentry be accepting of a demon? Ed was a jiangshi, an undead demonic creature from Diyu that consumes qi much in the same way that the painted skin demon would, and he was one of her best friends

she saw the nü gui as a non-malicious friend to Ed, considered her gugu's ghosts to be helpful and nice, helped a dangerous little girl to return to the afterlife, didn't run off when she learned about Michael's powers, regarded niu tou and ma mian as non-evil forces just doing their job, considered Kit a friend after forgiving him, and helped Zhong Kui capture law breaking ghosts

she was constantly accepting of any super natural entity that wasn't a total dick, why would this be any different?

now I love Kit, and if there is a season 2, and I hope to god there is, I would love to see him return as well, but you gotta stop ragging on Jentry for just being rational, there are much better reasons why someone would be upset with her, but I just can't see the unaccepting angle

[blightbright]

i think it's interesting to not let Solas kill the ignorant mages (the ones who bound his Wisdom friend) in his DA:I personal quest!

they definitely enslaved a spirit, which is wrong, and Solas disapproves of sparing them, AND:

these are pathetic randos who have literally only ever been exposed to cultural messaging that says spirits are objects not people. they're annoying and they destroyed someone's life, but they are not evil. they were imprisoned for years, they were taught misinformation by their captors, and now they've escaped, they're vulnerable, they got scared of being killed by bandits, and they ignorantly stumbled their way into something they didn't understand by following a book's instructions.

none of that is an excuse and also, in an extremely on-the-nose fashion, being enslaved and forced to kill is what harmed Solas' friend. the Inquisitor doesn't know how directly this parallels Solas' story, but if Inky can come at the mercy choice intuitively, the choice to stop Solas is IMO a very good one, because (like Cole embodying Compassion for the Templar when choosing to make Cole "more spirit") it actively reinforces Solas' inner Wisdom self.

Inky doesn't have to intervene much at all to get Solas to stop btw, literally all it takes is an uneasy "Solas..." and he stops.

IMO, gently expressing uncertainty about his decision to outright kill them reminds Solas, hey, what if you don't have to kill them (which hurts you too, which you were forced to do, and that damaged you)? these people might be teachable. what if you, Wisdom, teach them to never do this again? what if they spread that message to the other oblivious mages they encounter, and many more people learn?

these mages literally cannot learn anything if they're dead. if spared, they're still not the best critical thinkers, but they state this was the first time they'd ever done a binding, and they seem genuinely shocked that they hurt someone by doing it. IMO, they seem unlikely to ever do it again. IIRC Inky can even threaten them in optional dialogue afterwards, and they swear (in a way that seemed earnest to me) that they've learned their lesson.

TL;DR, gently prompting Solas to slow down and consider what he's doing instead of slaughtering people who are cowering in front of him with their hands up, even though intervening makes Solas feel unhappy in the moment, is IMO a great way to reach out to his own bound Wisdom and say, 1) hey, I actually like your truest self, and 2) hey, sometimes people do terrible things... I'll stop them permanently if I have to, but I prefer to first try and see if they're willing to do better.

that's a pretty important message for Solas, for multiple reasons.

[temple-kharis]

Generative AI is NOT Worship

I saw a post about this but it was written by a fucking "radfem" FART, and I don't want to give that POS the time of day. So I'm going to make my own.

Generative AI does NOT please the gods. If you make one of those devotional digital offerings and you use AI to do it, you're spitting in the face of the gods. They do not accept it.

Generative AI steals from actual artists (and I'm saying this as a devotee to a god of thieves), it scrapes protected data from all corners of the web. It permanently damages the connections in the brain for recall, creativity, and cognitive processing. And it poisons and harms the very earth we are supposed to honour.

It doesn't matter if the art you create yourself is "good" by some sort of scholarly pseudo-objective standard or not. It is good simply for the fact that you made it yourself out of the love and honour of the gods. It could be a stick figure with stickers all around it, but the fact that YOU made it - not prompted some AI slop - means that it is worthy in the eyes of the gods as a good offering.

You should put your energy, your feelings, your mind into your offerings. Something Generative AI can NEVER do.

[agoodroughandtumble]

Looks Good On You Anyway - Zoro x Reader Part 1

Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is running out of clothes - has to borrow Zoro's Warning: Language (18+).

Unfortunately, life amongst the Straw Hats wasn’t exactly akin to sartorial elegance. You couldn’t count the amount of perfectly good shirts that had been ruined through rips, bloodstains or the general wear and tear of a life of piracy, and whilst you had long since let go of any notion of style, a shirt you could actually wear was surely not that much to ask for. Trouble was, not only were you running out of clothes, you were also running out of berry. A failing on your part. But, as your stint aboard the Going Merry was supposed to be a brief one it was not entirely unreasonable that dressing for all seasons had not been at the forefront of your priorities. When your stint aboard the Thousand Sunny turned out to be a more permanent affair any onlookers could be forgiven for questioning your lack of forward planning.

It was with more than a hint of jealousy that you thought of the boys as you rifled through your trunk in order to find something, anything, that hadn’t been stitched and repaired so many times it was the Ship of Theseus in thread form. They didn’t have to worry about not having a shirt – hell, you couldn’t even remember a time before Sanji was the only one not displaying some defined muscle. Not that you had noticed. Or if you had it was a completely objective observation of the double standards of men and women’s bodies. Or something to that effect. And, of course, because it went without saying, that a certain someone’s lack of attire had definitely caught your eye. But then again … if he was so adverse to the thought of being covered up, his shirts were only going to waste …

But that would be weird. Territorial. Well, invasive since it wasn’t your territory.

And it would be bad.

But maybe not that bad? And, as already established, it wasn’t like he was using any of his shirts anyway. So if anything it was just recycling, a redistribution of goods. Whatever it was, it clearly hadn’t played on your mind too much having tiptoed out of the boys’ quarters wearing a stolen navy blue tank top and making your way towards the deck.

*

Roronoa Zoro leant back against the gunnel, legs stretched out, the satisfying burn of a good training session aching through his thighs. A light breeze cooled the sweat clinging to his skin, eyes closed, the faintest smirk across his features – a response to Luffy and Usopp arguing about their latest game. Life on the sea was rarely tranquil so he soaked up such moments as his bronzed skin soaked up the morning sun. Of course he would never admit to the fact but the faint smell of Sanji cooking lunch only added to the easy tranquillity.

The wolf whistle ended his stillness.

“Fuck off, Nami.”

Your voice prompted a surreptitious look.

“New shirt? I don’t remember going shopping.” The smirk in Nami’s voice palpable.

“Fuck off, Nami.” As was your annoyance.

The two of you were always bickering – that much wasn’t a surprise but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. He leant forward, trying to get a closer look. Nothing seemed that much out of the ordinar-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Why the ever-loving-fuck is that a thing? His hand automatically gripped at his swords – something to focus on that wasn’t the fact that you were wearing his shirt and he was completely and utterly into that. Fuck, your tits looked good. But that wasn’t the point. His knuckled turned a bit whiter.

“Zoro, you okay with this? I thought I was the thief.”

Fuck off, Nami.

“What?” He tilted his head in a show of nonchalance and tried very, very hard not to adjust his position too obviously. “I don’t wear it.” He shrugged – a little too much. “I don’t care.”

The look from Nami did not go unnoticed. Neither did the irony or metaphor – Zoro wasn’t going to dwell on which – of you covered in the clothes of a killer when all he could think about was ripping those clothes off, of confessing everything, of being on the verge of-

“Sorry,” you started, “Everything else is ripped.”

“Keep it.” Zoro stood up. He stopped when he didn’t hear your footsteps. “Well come on then. My clothes look better on you anyway.”

[eddiegettingshot]

your prompt for today: pink🩷

When their night out winds down, and they land on Eddie’s doorstep, Buck’s gut begins to prickle with sudden nerves, or maybe anticipation. He really can’t tell the difference. Strange, because he thought he’d been handling being on a first date with his best friend pretty well. After all, it’s a song and dance that’s usually about making a good first impression, and not only did that ship sail years ago, but Buck didn’t even get it right. So dinner just felt like dinner, except for the fact that Eddie kept their feet tucked together beneath the table the whole time.

Granted, there were a few days where Buck kept forgetting anything had changed between them if they weren’t physically together, if Eddie didn’t have a hand on him, like he’d lost all sense of object permanence where Eddie was concerned. What’s startling is that in most ways, nothing has. 

Like this: Eddie turns to him now as he unlocks his front door, brow arched. 

“What, you got somewhere else to be?” he asks.

Buck doesn’t bother asking what Eddie had seen in him, that he’d decided he needed to stake an explicit claim on the rest of Buck’s night (and, with luck, the morning?). It’s not like he’s in the habit of playing things close to the vest, but half the time he doesn’t even need to say a word—not to Eddie. He’d been peeled open long before he knew he had anything to confess.

Easy to imagine: himself, held in the tender cradle of Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s thumbs feeling down his center to find the tenderest spot, pushing deep all at once, prying him apart—through the rind of him, his ribcage, so all his insides, overripe with adoration, come spilling out into Eddie’s palms. That’s how it feels. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

“No,” he says, shuffling closer. He’d been hanging back, playing with his car keys in his pocket.  “No, I—I’m coming in.”

“Good.” 

Eddie sounds so openly pleased. Warmth spills through Buck’s spine. He hadn’t considered that he wasn’t alone in this—bracing against some new humming energy, staring too closely at the back of Eddie’s neck—but he watches Eddie’s shoulders soften, right before he lets Buck inside.

Then, once Buck’s on the couch, thinking really intently about how they’re going to occupy it together (it’s been a busy week; they haven’t even seen enough of each other for Buck to have adapted to their new rules of engagement. Can he crawl into Eddie’s lap?), Eddie pauses, says, “Uh, hold on,” and bustles off to the kitchen. 

He returns with a lighter for the candle sitting on the coffee table, which is—new. Buck hadn’t noticed until now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie light a candle in all the years he’s spent in this house, and now his lip is trapped between his teeth as he does it, avoiding Buck’s eyes all the while.

It hits Buck hard and fast: Eddie is really, really nervous. And trying to be romantic, for Buck. And if he crawled into Eddie’s lap, probably Eddie would laugh, and let him; he’s allowed. And maybe nothing feels different but it’s all changed. That’s what Buck wants, for once. That’s what Eddie wants, judging by his wide dark eyes, flushed cheeks, the flickering candlelight. Sometimes Buck’s slow on the uptake. This time, he might have just been scared. 

“You look nice,” Buck says. 

Kind of bad timing—Eddie’s just in his socks; he’d shed his jacket and the fancy watch Buck’s only seen him break out a couple times; he’d undone the first couple of buttons on his shirt; he must have run his hands through his hair when he was out of sight, since it’s falling halfway down his forehead. Buck should have said something when he picked Eddie up—he’d thought it, then, but he had been so comfortable with Eddie in his passenger seat, he didn’t want to risk making things weird.

Eddie’s laugh is just a soft puff of air. He relaxes. “Thanks,” he says, coming around to sink down beside Buck, turning a knee out so they’re touching, as if by reflex. 

“I like that color on you,” Buck continues. “Always have.”

“Hm,” Eddie says, smiling. He’s in rose pink. He’s also leaning closer, lifting a hand and brushing his fingertips down Buck’s brow, his cheek. His eyes flicker, and suddenly they’re trained on Buck’s mouth. Buck’s stomach swoops boyishly. “It’s a good color.”

Holy shit, Buck thinks, head full of jasmine and honey and smoke and the cologne Eddie’s wearing, something unfamiliar with an exotic spiced note. They kissed before—they’ve been kissing all week—except this time Buck starts whimpering before their lips meet, and Eddie swallows whatever strangled noise he makes with a grin. Buck lurches in, fisting urgent hands into the front of Eddie’s shirt. 

“Eddie,” he pants after a while. It’s hard-won, because Eddie is demanding, and he bites. “Eddie, are you sure?” 

Now that they’ve done it, like, really crossed the line, gotten a taste—he’s gotta know if this is what Eddie was looking for, when he told Buck he loved him. Not just the sex, which they’re definitely about to have—all of it. Buck shoves his knuckles against Eddie’s chest to feel his heart gallop, hard but steady like it grew Thoroughbred legs. 

Eddie’s cupping his face in both hands while they kiss. He pulls away, not far, and surveys Buck the way he would a patient: like he’s trying to puzzle out what’s going on beneath Buck’s skin, in all the places he can’t quite reach.

“Buck,” he says, gently. “Of course.” 

He pushes his thumb between Buck’s teeth. Satisfied, Buck drags him back in.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Doll shenanigans are creepy by default

Fanfic prompt : Legend but he accidentally lost his hylian body somewhere in hytopia after he got his two dolls

And never bothered with finding it again because he doesn’t feel any pain in his bones ,… if he simply doesn’t have any bones.

And the joints can always be fixed or oiled to keep working and even be replaced in worst case scenarios

He certainly has the money to repair magical things and stuff

After link between worlds he also had someone who had experience with magical artifacts and could potentially fix them ,

… if not he still has another doll in his basement somewhere

Ravio considered himself the luckiest man alive to be both able of studying such a genius construct …

And also a house with no rent ,

A hylian citizenship AND a life partner ,

An opportunity to set up a very close to illegal shop (his weapons are NOT overpriced he swears on link's right arm ‘that he can replace with no problem’)

A legal business on creating Prosthetic limbs (no way is he going to let his knowledge of Link breaking off legs for stupid reasons NOT turn into a new business … he has way too much experience)

And even the favor of the princess

His life can’t be better and all because Link has been breaking limbs enough to get a permanent 50% off deal from the sheer knowledge of building prosthetics that Ravio got from rebuilding him over and over again when he stumbles back with half his body missing and face torn off…

(It was a horrible first experience to say the least)

When Ravio went on to go join the war of ages he was the go to guy to get perfectly functional… but ungodly overpriced prosthetics

He was not at all ashamed about being in love with a doll (nobody quite got the sentiment of that)

Wars was very much ignoring that

Tune for odd reasons kept snickering when Ravio spoke about how great his (probably not real) husband was

During linked universe Warriors and legend still bickered until …

Warriors after his night watch: *goes to check the pulse of the person closest to him just to be sure*

Warriors realizing that legend has no pulse , no signs of breathing ,no body warmth , no movement or twitch implying any signs of life : *starts aggressively trying to resurrect him … chest compressions*

Warriors obviously failing at it : “cries*

Legend hearing it : *opens eyes just to realize his brother broke his non self repairing rib cage*

The entire chain (minus Sky) was awake and ready for a fight

Just to see Warriors crying in relief and holding Legend (bro was reliving trauma that moment)

Afterwards he was really having a bad time with his bent rib cage and unfortunately being examined by a field trained soldier, a healer and then dragged to a doctor in the nearest village

But obviously they would have never assumed that Legend is a doll with full body mobility ,a sense of self and metal joints

They concluded that legend is overachieving with every new breath he takes and probably is about to die because of his weak heart beat ,

His very cold and rough skin in some places (fake magic skin is expensive … he can’t replace it every single time)

His very minimal breathing

The sheer horror Warriors felt when he realized the dent in legend's chest is simply not healing from when he broke the ribs by accident

Means that now everyone is convinced that legend will evaporate if they turn their eyes away

And Hyrule and Warriors are feeling horrible because they can’t fix it… or just make it slightly more bearable

NOTHING WORKS on him (it’s twilight's injury all over again)

It only got worse when legend told the chain that he has been having such problems since his last three adventures already (telling people he is an object never turns out well)

The chain became overly affectionate

The sheer amount of relive they felt when Ravio somehow fixed the dent

And the most intense anger when they realized that they were worrying for literally nothing

The chain finding out that Ravio fixed the worst damage: …. : ) finally he good

The chain when they realized that Legend was Ravio's doll in question: >:(

The chain reaction when legend admits he lost his body somewhere as if it is something acceptable to say : :o

The chain : how did you lose your body

Legend : accient :) silly mstke

[glitchedember]

Hiya!

So we all know that AI generators like Midjourney, Stable Diffusion, DALL.E, Sora.AI, etc. have stolen the work from artists online to train their AI and since AI is starting to get quite scary, I've decided I'm going to start protecting my work via Nightshade, but I want to also talk about it with you and link to the official sites to Glaze and Nightshade, so you can get either of these programs to try.

First off, we'll start with Glaze AI.

What Glaze aims to do is to act on the defensive against AI. Glaze will scramble their generators by placing a “protective glaze” over your work, and what this will do, is when your work is fed into the AI, it'll trick the AI into thinking your work is something entirely different from what it is, simply by making small changes that only the AI will pick up on

To quote the official site “Glaze is a system designed to protect human artists by disrupting style mimicry. At a high level, Glaze works by understanding the AI models that are training on human art, and using machine learning algorithms, computing a set of minimal changes to artworks, such that it appears unchanged to human eyes, but appears to AI models like a dramatically different art style.”

I've tried using Glaze, but it's a very big program and my computer can't handle that, but I do highly recommend trying it out if you have the space for it.

If you wanna try it out, the link to the site can be found here.

Second is Nightshade.

Nightshade is aimed to “attack” the AI your work is being fed into. Like Glaze, Nightshade puts a protective “glaze” over your work, but it poisons your work and tricks the AI into messing up the user's prompt.

To quote the official site “Nightshade works similarly as Glaze, but instead of a defense against style mimicry, it is designed as an offense tool to distort feature representations inside generative AI image models. Like Glaze, Nightshade is computed as a multi-objective optimization that minimizes visible changes to the original image. While human eyes see a shaded image that is largely unchanged from the original, the AI model sees a dramatically different composition in the image.”

This program is also pretty big, but it's what my laptop is able to handle, so from here on out I'll be protecting my work with this. I'll also go back and protect my older works even if it's not as appealing as my newer works.

If you wanna try it out, the link to the site can be found here.

Keep in mind, these are only temporary solutions while we wait for more permanent ones.

But even if it's temporary, it's better than having no protection against the AI bros.

[redvdress]

TONGUE PIERCING

A/N: i found this prompt everywhere here so i thought about doing my version of it, i have already a few piercings and i’d love getting a tongue one (dabi i’m waiting for you). this is my dabi masterpiece i swear. mention of blood and pain liking

The room was dimly lit, cast in a pale orange glow from a single, flickering lamp. The lampshade itself was cracked, giving off a sickly hue that left the edges of the small apartment in shadow. Dust clung to the air, swirling lazily in the faint light. The walls were stained with the passage of time, watermarks snaking down from the ceiling where the plaster had started to crack. The floor was no better, scuffed linoleum in a faded pattern that hadn’t been recognizable in years.

It reeked of cheap cigarettes and burnt flesh—Dabi’s permanent scent.

He leaned against a rickety table, one arm slung over the back of a chair as he stared at you from across the room, his cigarette dangling between his lips. The cherry of it glowed faintly in the dark as he took a long drag, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You sure about this?” His voice was low, gravelly, the kind of sound that made you wonder if he’d ever spoken softly in his life. Smoke curled around his words, and his eyes—those intense, blue eyes—bore into you with an unnerving stillness.

There was something about the way he looked at you that made your stomach twist, a heady mixture of fear and thrill.

Dabi was dangerous—more dangerous than anyone you’d ever known.

The kind of danger that made your pulse quicken, that pulled you toward him, even though every rational part of you screamed to stay away. But you weren’t here to play it safe.

“Once I stick this metal in you, there’s no backing out, dollface”.

His smirk tugged at the scar tissue around his mouth, the charred, stitched-together skin pulling unnaturally with the motion. The staples in his face caught the light, glinting in the dimness, each one a testament to the pain he’d endured—and the fact that he clearly didn’t care about pain. Not his, not anyone’s.

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry as the reality of what you were about to do hit you. The idea of a tongue piercing had come up in a haze of excitement, after too many nights spent watching Dabi’s fingers dance over his own piercings, those rough hands handling metal and flesh like he knew them intimately. He lived with metal embedded in his skin, after all, more a part of him than anything else.

You wanted a piece of that. Wanted to feel what he felt, wanted him to be the one to give it to you.

“I trust you” you said, and though your voice came out softer than you intended, there was an undercurrent of truth in it. Dabi might have been rough, sarcastic, and dangerous, but you trusted him with this. He knew what he was doing. He always did.

Dabi’s lips curled into a snort, smoke billowing from his nostrils like a dragon amused by some foolish human. “You really shouldn’t” he muttered, shaking his head as if the very idea of someone trusting him was a joke.

Maybe it was.

Trust wasn’t something Dabi traded in—pain, though? Pain, he knew.

“But alright, your funeral.”

He shifted, stubbing out his cigarette in a chipped ashtray with an almost lazy flick of his wrist. The glow of the room flickered as he moved, the shadows deepening. His lean figure, clad in that familiar tattered coat, loomed over the small table beside him.

He’d set up everything with a casual sort of carelessness, the kind that came from someone who knew their way around sharp objects but didn’t need to flaunt it.

His hands—gloved, rough, scarred—worked with a certain precision, though.

As he laid out the needle, the barbell, and the alcohol wipes, he moved like this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. You’d seen him handle plenty of things with practiced skill—he knew his body, his pain, and his scars. Piercings were no different.

He caught you staring as he picked up the needle, an eyebrow quirking slightly. “You getting cold feet already?” he teased, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. “’Cause if you are, I can think of better ways to kill time than jabbing a needle through your tongue.”

You shook your head, feeling the heat rise in your face. “No,” you insisted, sitting up straighter on the couch. “I want to do it.”

There it was again, that smirk.

The one that made your heart do a weird, uncomfortable flip in your chest.

He set the needle down for a moment, coming over to stand in front of you, looming like a shadow. His presence was overpowering, the heat from his quirk lingering in the air like a barely restrained fire. It made the room feel smaller, suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

He crouched down, eye-level with you now, his face inches from yours. His gaze raked over you, assessing, maybe even a little amused. “Open up,” he said, voice still rough, like he was talking about anything mundane, not about to drive a piece of metal through your flesh.

You did as he asked, sticking your tongue out as far as you could. It felt awkward, vulnerable, with his gaze on you. He leaned in closer, inspecting your tongue with the kind of scrutiny that had your nerves spiking.

“Tch,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers grazing your chin as he tilted your head slightly. “Tongue’s kinda thick, huh? Bet you could do some real damage with that.”

The casual vulgarity of the comment caught you off guard, and you nearly pulled back, but his grip on your chin was firm.

He didn’t let you move an inch. You caught a glimpse of his sharp smile, his mismatched eyes gleaming with something dark. His touch lingered for a moment longer before he moved his hand away, leaving you cold in his absence.

He straightened up, reaching for the needle again, you could see the gleam of metal as he rolled it between his fingers, his expression indifferent. “Try not to squirm too much. I don’t wanna fuck up your pretty little mouth.”

The warning sent a shiver through you.

You knew he wasn’t bluffing—he didn’t sugarcoat anything. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell you exactly how bad it would hurt if you screwed this up for yourself. Dabi was a man of few soft words, and the ones he did offer were more like sharp edges.

Dabi’s hands were steady as he pulled your jaw down slightly, guiding you into position. His gloved fingers pressed against the sides of your tongue, holding it in place, and the cool touch of alcohol wiped the surface clean, leaving a sharp, antiseptic taste in your mouth.

The cold press of the needle against your tongue was the first shock. It didn’t hurt, and even if it did, you wouldn’t mind.

You tensed despite yourself, feeling the muscles in your jaw clench.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. It wasn’t a request—it was a command. “You move, and this shit’ll hurt way worse than it needs to.”

You gave a barely perceptible nod, holding your breath as Dabi aligned the needle with precision. Then, in one swift motion, it pierced through.

The pain was sharp, bright, and immediate.

But it was the kind of pain you liked, because you wanted to feel it.

You tasted blood, metallic and bitter, as Dabi worked quickly, threading the barbell through the new hole. His hands were deft, almost clinical, but there was something intimate about the way he handled you.

He screwed the ball onto the end of the barbell with a final twist, and then it was done. You blinked, dazed from the rush of adrenaline, feeling the weight of the new piercing in your mouth. Dabi pulled back, taking a step away to admire his handiwork, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb.

“There. All done.” His voice was casual, like he hadn’t just pierced your tongue with a needle. He tossed the bloody cloth onto the table and stepped back, his smirk widening as he took in your expression.

“Told ya I knew what I was doing.”

You ran your tongue against the cool metal, testing it, wincing at the soreness. The sensation was foreign and strange, but not unbearable. Still, the dull throb was a constant reminder of what had just happened, and more importantly, who had done it.

Dabi’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes, his smirk growing wider, more self-satisfied.

He tapped a finger against the fresh piercing, making you flinch.

“Looks good on you,” he muttered, his voice low and husky, dripping with that dangerous, teasing edge. “Might even be worth the trouble.”

His touch, though brief, lingered like the burn of his quirk. Even in something as mundane as a piercing, he had control over you, and he knew it.

“You say that like you didn’t enjoy it,” you teased, your voice muffled around your swollen tongue. It wasn’t your best comeback, but your nerves were still on edge from the piercing, and it was hard to think clearly when Dabi was staring at you like that.

Dabi chuckled, the sound low and dark, as he flicked his cigarette into the ashtray.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh, I enjoyed it, alright,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“But don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you just because I stuck a piece of metal in your mouth. You’re still mine, and that tongue of yours better be ready to put in some work.”

The way his voice dropped at the end, laced with dangerous intent, sent a shockwave of heat through your body. You couldn’t help but feel the tension between you tighten like a wire ready to snap.

He pulled away just as quickly as he’d closed the distance, leaving you breathless. He stretched, arms above his head, like he hadn’t just spent the last few minutes working a needle through your flesh. His movements were casual, careless, but there was something in the way he glanced at you, over his shoulder, that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Clean it, don’t be an idiot, and maybe it won’t get infected,” he said, voice flippant. “Or don’t. Not my problem if you can’t handle it.”

"Still think it's a good idea?" he asked, his voice low, gravelly. "Bet it hurts like a bitch."

It did hurt, the sting radiating through your tongue as the pressure of the piercing settled in, but you weren't about to admit that. Not to him. You gave a slow nod, your breath catching as his fingers tightened just slightly around your jaw, his touch sending a shiver through you.

Dabi's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.

"Yeah?" he drawled, leaning in closer until his breath ghosted over your lips, smelling of smoke and heat.

"Let's see how tough you really are, doll."

Before you could respond, his mouth crashed against yours.

The kiss was rough, nothing gentle or patient about it. His lips pressed hard against yours, his hand holding your jaw in place as he deepened the kiss without hesitation. The sudden pressure made your tongue throb, the fresh wound pulsing painfully, but you didn't care. If anything, the pain only heightened the intensity of the moment, your senses overwhelmed by the sharp contrast between the sting of the piercing and the heat of Dabi's mouth.

Your body tensed, instinctively bracing against the pain, but Dabi's hold on you kept you grounded. His other hand slipped around the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, refusing to let you pull away.

He was testing you, pushing your limits, daring you to flinch or complain.

But you didn't.

Instead, you leaned into the kiss, the burn in your tongue fading into the background as the taste of him filled your mouth. His lips were hot, demanding, and you responded in kind, letting the pain mix with the pleasure until they were indistinguishable. The cold metal of the new barbell rubbed against your teeth, and every movement of your tongue sent a fresh jolt of pain through your nerves, but you welcomed it, savoring the intensity.

Dabi chuckled darkly against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you as he pulled back slightly, just enough to let his mismatched eyes meet yours.

"Didn't think you'd like it that much," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. His thumb brushed over your lips, tracing where his kiss had just been, smirking at the way your breath hitched under his touch.

"You like the pain, huh?"

You bit your lip, wincing slightly as the motion aggravated the fresh piercing, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you gave him a defiant look, your heart pounding as you whispered, "Maybe I like it when it's from you”.

That made his eyes gleam with something darker, something primal. He leaned back in, brushing his lips over yours again-this time slower, teasing, his breath hot and full of purpose.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice rough with amusement. "You're full of surprises."

He pressed his lips to yours again, but this time, the kiss was different. It was still rough, still full of that dangerous intensity, but there was something more to it-an edge of control, of dominance, like he was claiming you all over again. His tongue slipped past your lips, brushing against the metal barbell, and the pain flared up again, sharper this time, but you welcomed it, leaning into him as the heat between you spiked.

His hand tightened at the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

The kiss deepened, growing more feverish, and your mind buzzed with the sharp mix of pleasure and pain. The barbell clicked against your teeth as his tongue moved against yours, the cold metal a stark contrast to the burning heat of his mouth.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart hammering in your chest. The pain in your tongue was a dull throb now, but it was overshadowed by the heat coursing through your veins. Dabi's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he studied your face, watching the way your chest rose and fell with every ragged breath.

"Not bad," he muttered, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb, smirking as he glanced at the faint streak of blood that had appeared from the fresh wound.

"Told you it'd hurt. But you didn't back down. Gotta give you credit for that."

You smirked, your tongue pressing against the new piercing, wincing at the ache but not regretting a thing. "I can handle it," you murmured, your voice soft but steady, even as your heart raced in your chest.

Dabi chuckled, his hand slipping away from your neck as he straightened up, that self-satisfied smirk still playing on his lips. "You better" he muttered, his voice dark and teasing.

[lancermylove]

Random HCs

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: No pairing. Featuring DB and Royals.

Warning: None

Prompt: Random HCs for chuckles and giggles.

A/N: For all those who are exhausted, having a bad day, and struggling, I hope this makes you laugh.

———————————————

Mammon

Mammon once tried to make a pyramid scheme business involving selling rare pebbles he found in the backyard.

He secretly practices his cool guy poses in front of the mirror every morning.

Mammon has a collection of sunglasses, each pair named after a famous celebrity from the human realm.

He’s convinced that adding “The Great” before his name on all his social media profiles will make him go viral. Asmo has told him many times it won't work, but Mammon is determined.

The brothers catch Mammon often talking to inanimate objects, like convincing his wallet to magically refill itself. Asmo even has a few videos of these conversations on his phone. If you want to see it, Asmo is taking a payment of cheek kisses for each video.

Mammon once got stuck in a vending machine while trying to get a snack that got jammed. It turned out the vending machine was a mimic. His brothers still tease him about it.

Mammon thinks he’s a master chef because he can make instant noodles without burning them.

The second brother invented a new dance move called "The Mammon Shuffle," but it looks suspiciously like him tripping over his own feet.

Barbatos

He has a hidden talent for stand-up comedy but only practices in front of his mirror when he’s sure no one’s watching.

Barbatos has a secret collection of novelty aprons with quirky phrases, which he wears while cooking when no one is around.

Barbatos keeps a detailed journal of all the times he’s had to clean up after Diavolo’s “enthusiastic” projects, complete with the commentaries from the peanut gallery.

He also keeps a list of all the times he had to intervene in the brothers’ schemes. That too by rank of how ridiculous they were.

The butler has a secret talent for juggling, which he practices with kitchen utensils while he waits for dishes to finish cooking.

Barbatos has a habit of organizing the pantry alphabetically, and he gets annoyed when someone messes it up.

He once tried to teach a cooking class to the brothers, but it turned into a comedy show with flying ingredients and accidental fires. Then, Solomon showed up the next day asking for cooking lessons, and Barbatos disappeared into thin air. Now, Solomon is permanently banned from entering the royal kitchen.

For the rest, visit my website: Random HCs

———————————————

➣  Please visit my website for the full masterlist!

[lux-aurea-lunae]

Prompt 28 - Moving

“I’m moving, so you’ll have to find some other hero to bother soon,” Hero announced. It was only polite to give Villain a warning in advance, instead of randomly disappearing on them.

“You’re moving? Why?” Villain asked, sounding a little shocked. Maybe they thought that the two of them would keep their fights going longer than this, like Hero had.

“More heroes are needed in another city a couple hours away, and the hero agency wants me to go.” The agency thought that Hero’s power and skills would be the most effective. 

“When will you be back?” Hero thought it was kind of odd that that was Villain’s first question.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone yet.” A few months, at least. Maybe a year. Maybe permanently.

Villain must’ve picked up something in their expression or tone, because they asked, “Are you going because you want to, or because you feel like you have to?”

It’s true that the agency hadn’t really given them an opportunity to object, but they wouldn’t turn them down either way. The agency already found them a new place to stay, and offered to help them with moving expenses. It’s not like the other city was a terrible place to live, or anything, even if it wasn’t their home. “…Both.”

Villain scoffed. “Like you know what you would want, if you were ever given a choice.” Hero ignored them.

The next few fights, Villain seemed angrier than usual. Their insults were getting more personal, more targeted, and some of them made Hero feel strangely guilty, even though they had no idea what they did to make Villain upset with them. Villain’s crimes were more destructive than they ever were before, and they seemed to make property damage their primary goal whenever Hero arrived to stop them. After a week of putting up with it, Hero confronted them.

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been more frustrating than normal. I didn’t know that was possible!” Hero joked, trying to cover up how nervous they really were.

Villain scowled. “You want to know what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me is that a certain hero thinks they can just up and leave the city they’ve sworn to protect. What happened to this place being your home?” they demanded.

“I thought you didn’t care about the city,” Hero said, trying to figure out what Villain was getting at.

“I don’t. This is about you abandoning everything you once stood for, and for what? Because some selfish parasite told you to? I swear, they get paid to leech off heroes’ success.” They muttered the last sentence, but Hero still heard them. Once again, Villain’s comments about Hero’s workplace were ignored.

“You’re so dramatic. I’m not doing anything like that. I’ll just be working in a different city for a while. And it really is a good offer! It’s more than I’m making now, at least.” Hero knew any attempt to placate Villain would be in vain, but they had to say something.

“So it’s all about money now? What happened to improving the city?” Villain asked coldly.

“That’s still important to me. I’ll just be improving a different city for a while.”

Villain seemed as frustrated as Hero was. “Does our rivalry mean nothing to you?!” they shouted.

Hero froze. They weren’t expecting that to be Villain’s real problem. “...You’re mad I’m leaving?”

Villain sighed exasperatedly. “Yes! Did you not listen to a single thing I just said?”

That put all of Villain’s actions for the past week in a new light. “Was all that destruction you trying to make enough problems to justify me staying?” Hero asked, only half teasing.

“N-no, it was because I was angry.”

Hero laughed. “Right.”

[pearlywritings]

Distracted

synopsis: is what you are when it comes to your husband's marvelous hands

prompt: 19

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Ayato Kamisato x fem!reader

tw: smut, established relationship, fingering

word count: 1k+ words in total

a/n: part of my Token of appreciation writing event! Closed now, still have 2 more requests to write

“I am wondering what could be so distracting that you couldn't hear my voice anymore.”

“Your hands.”

This small interaction, this seemingly innocent admission of yours was what led to this situation. But how could it not? Your husband's hands are elegant - from thin wrists to long fingers with well-manicured nails. Skin milky and smooth is pleasant to touch, caress the backs of his hands, sliding your fingers right in-between his, but you also love the messy look of them after a training session or getting some tiny specks of ink from the hours spent over the paperwork.

Or completely soaked with your arousal.

“You can’t stop squirming, can you?” The teasing lilt in your husband’s voice is ever-present, but now is laced with desire. Your back arches harder, head lolling to the crook between his neck and shoulder, hot breath fanning against his chin. Two of your beloved’s fingers slowly drag against your clenching walls, drawing more needy gasps and occasional swipe on your clit with his thumb earns Ayato a soft moan.

“Can’t help it…” You murmur, reaching a hand to play with a longer lock of his blue hair. “Your fingers are just…”

“Too distracting?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Oh, come on…” You quietly whine, embarrassed. After all, you didn’t expect your honest answer to backfire at you in such a form: back then Ayato immediately abandoned his calligraphy practice and urged you onto bed as he momentarily exited the bedroom to wash his hands. The hands that in a minute were tugging your clothes off till you ended up completely naked and now those slim fingers are stuffed into your pussy as you are sitting between his spread legs, leaning back onto him.

“You are so pretty… Archons, my wife is so pretty like this,” as if reading your mind, the man admires the position he put you in. He can easily see over your shoulder how he disappears inside you to the knuckles and reappears all wet and sticky. “Look down for me, princess. Please, look at yourself.”

“But then…mm…I’ll be distracted a-ah-gain…” You try to object, but your husband only smiles, bringing a free hand to your chin, turning your head to look you in the eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” a sweet kiss is pressed against your lips and he purposefully presses on your g-spot to swallow an equally sweet cry of yours. To the Abyss his long fingers!

Once separated, Ayato lets his hand fall to your breast, teasing neglected nipple with a pad of his digit. Your gaze lowers to where his hand has occupied space between your legs and you nearly choke on a gasp. His hand is drenched in your juices.

“Like what you see?” Another tease that makes your heart skip a beat and a little nibble he gives the shell of your ear that leaves you breathless. “Just imagine how nicely it would look with my dick stretching you.”

A skillful flick of his wrist and your lover starts hitting that spongy spot inside you with scaring precision. Realization slips through the thickening fog in your head - all this time he’s been just playing with you.

“A-ayato-!” Your voice cracks when the pulsing in your core intensifies. It doesn’t decrease the speed of your approaching orgasm how he cups your breast and gently tugs on a hardened bud. Thumb returns to your clit permanently, drawing tight circles on a puffy nub, eliciting delicious moans out of your throat.

Your soles dig into the mattress, your back is once again arched and head thrown onto his shoulder; fingers desperately tug onto the material of his domestic robe, creasing it onto his thighs. Trying to anchor yourself in place, you involuntarily rock your rear against his aching cock and Ayato, your publically prim and proper husband, curses. Lewdly.

“Fuck... Y/n, please, just like that- mmm, rub yourself on me, rub on me, rub on me,” he whispers into your ear, breathing heavily, speeding thrusting of his fingers and releasing your chest to wrap an arm around your middle, pressing you into him. “You feel so good, you are so soft- Archons!”

You mewl, overwhelmed, clenching around his digits, practically leaking onto the sheets - he’s been toying with your poor cunt for so long. So it’s no surprise that when he tells you to cum - you do.

Ayato drinks in the sight of your release, he imprints into his memory the images of your throbbing clit, of convulsing clenches of the ring of muscles, tightly wrapped around his still moving fingers, of your heavily rising and falling chest, nipples alluringly erected, of your quivering lips and lidded eyes, eyelashes fluttering like the butterfly’s wings. You are the image of perfection and that’s what a man like Kamisato Ayato always strikes for.

Finally, he stills the movement and carefully, not to abuse your pure nerves even more, takes the fingers out. Resting that soaked palm on your thigh, he reaches his cleaner hand to brush away the stray hairs that stuck to your face, creating a debauched visage of his gorgeous wife. He notices how your eyes follow the ministrations, blown pupils locked on what has started this whole ordeal, and the man can’t help but tease you some more.

“Distracted again?” 

“Mhm…” Guess, not that much, if you manage to answer him. Look, you even try to stretch your bent legs. “You would be too if I had hands as pretty as yours.”

“But yours are pretty,” he reaches to take the one closer to him and bring it to his lips, kissing the inside of the wrist. “I am just better at hiding my distracted state.”

“Oh… So you say…” You bite your lip but still push your body to straighten in your sitting position, to slightly turn. Ayato patiently waits as you get comfortable against his raised knee and thigh, body now half-turned to speak face to face. “You say if I was to stroke your dick just the way you like, your attention wouldn’t stray from the conversation we might have?”

Your husband swallows thickly, yet his shaft twitches. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though, and with the most saccharine smile, your palm envelopes the prominent bulge under his robe.

“Let’s test it out then~”

[practically-an-x-man]

Fifty Superhero-Inspired Whump Prompts

Couldn't find a lot of whump prompts I liked, so I decided to compile a few of my own! Here's a jumbo list of prompts for superheroes and enhanced characters:

Powers Stripped Away (permanent)

Powers Blocked/Forgotten (temporary)

Powers Enhanced/Too Much Power

Powers Out of Whack

New and Unwanted Powers

No Longer Human

Healing Incorrectly/Healing Around Embedded Object

Allowed to Heal... Just Enough to Survive

Loss of Healing Factor (first time healing at a normal pace)

Anesthesia/Painkillers Burned Off Too Quickly

Awake Through Surgery

Forced to Watch Loved Ones/Sidekicks Injured

Confronted with their Weakness/Kryptonite

Betraying their No-Kill Rule

Put Under Hypnosis/Mind Control

Coming Out of Hypnosis/Consequences of Hypnotized Actions

Telepathic Torture (it's all in their head)

Forced to Relive Trauma/Memories/Nightmares

Forced to Defeat/Kill a Former Ally

Downfall into a Supervillain

Chronic Pain from a Lifetime of Hero Work

Deemed a Villain/Public Scrutiny

Wrong Choice, Right Reason

Trolley Problem (risk a loved one to save civilians)

Dangerous Powers/Forced to Isolate

Alter-Ego Friend is Super-Ego Villain

Superpowered Sleep Deprivation

Starved Until Their Powers Shut Down

Made Into A Lab Rat

Identity Stripped Away/Living Weapon

Loss Of Limb/Eye/Something That Won't Regenerate

Enduring Extreme Temperatures

Physically Unable to Die

Supersuit Melts into their Skin

Child Mistakes Them for a Monster

High-Tech Imprisonment

Alien Disease/Parasite

Unwanted Tech/Cybernetic Enhancement

Adapt or Die/Powers Emerge

Grieving their Normal Life

Outliving Friends/Loved Ones

Accidentally Hurting a Teammate/Innocent

Died and Revived

Working for the Enemy/Undercover/Forced to Defy Moral Code

Foresight/Too Predictable/Can't Get Ahead

Trying to Escape Superhero Life/Tracked Down

Emotions Manipulated

Injected with Paralytic

Dazed, Drugged, or Concussed

Fighting Until They Tear Themselves Apart

[kaseyskat]

okay since they said that the san diego show is gonna be the only one Not recorded, i'll do my best to summarize the show for y'all!!!

-glenn's dad fact: the glenn close trio instagram (? i think?) is full of pictures of glenn standing next to a picture of the real glenn close

-darryl's dad fact: he and carol go to san diego very frequently because darryl likes the breweries and carol likes surfing! they have not "had sex" there once, but they HAVE made love (statements that made me cringe out loud)

-henry's dad fact: he and mercedes make a fake san diego burrito for themselves and the twins. it sounds awful.

-ron's dad fact: he thinks san diego is a type of eggo waffle

-the prompt that we rolled was called DADDY BABIES. the plotline? the dads (and paeden) went to the dimensional witch tilt toblerona to ask her to give them the strength of their youth back so they could find their kids. instead, tilt turned them into babies.

-the dads still have all of their memories of who they are as people and they can talk to themselves and to paeden (tilt does not understand them though, tilt only hears baby noises) but physically Being a baby affects their mental state just a bit

-ron wanted to stay a baby forever. henry tried to explain the concept of ageplay to him, darryl got confused thinking that ron just wanted to HAVE a baby like with samantha, henry had to explain fetishes

-during the baby section, henry is the most "adult" and ends up having to corral the others. darryl is a close second, but glenn and ron both Suffer Immensely

-while tilt is making. applesauce? the babies scheme on how to escape, involving an elaborate scheme in which henry uses mold earth on playdoh to make fake versions of themselves blue in the face and choking in a plastic bag and ron throwing his voice to sound like a baby crying. beth made the worst fake crying noise ever but then also gave us an INSANE dolphin noise when anthony called her out on it

-(also the dads had to roll object permanence to see if they thought tilt was gone forever when she was out of their line of sight. glenn failed this check very badly. darryl even played peekaboo with him to demonstrate object permanence and it failed. anthony made a horrible horrible joke that glenn's not a bad parent he just has bad object permanence even when it comes to nick)

-somehow this works? they trap tilt toblerona (glenn using illusory mind prison to make tilt think SHES the one choking on a plastic bag, henry casting stone wall on her to build a lego wall around her and effectively cask of amontillado-ing her) and then wander around the house looking for a way out.

-they realize they need tilt's key to escape, but first they watch an episode of bluey! henry is the only one who saved on a roll to Not be sucked into watching bluey and ends up unplugging the TV and going on a tangent about how screentime is bad

-(which is really fucking funny because he very explicitly says "lark and sparrow are well behaved because we set boundaries and have them play outside instead of using screens" and we all know how lark and sparrow are like. not???? not well behaved. henry im so sorry to break this to you but they are not well behaved-)

-anyways they get back to tilt, find and steal her key, and then open the door, promptly getting sucked through dimensions

-(darryl thinks for a second that he's in the rapture and tries to baptize himself in case his baby form isn't baptized. henry tries to help but goes on another tangent and they miss the opportunity)

-when they awaken, they find themselves now as teenagers in a classroom! and they see a GOTH PUNK SEEKER OF DARKNESS (phrases that made the entire crowd erupt in screaming, myself included)

-this time, darryl is the most stable of the dads! glenn coming in second, and then ron and henry were both. very teenager.

-darryl immediately offers to play ball with link. link is interested but ultimately gets shot down by tilt, who explains that they are in interdimensional detention forever

-glenn and taylor immediately bond over how cool they are

-scary asks ron if she can copy his math homework because he seems smart with a tie. ron agrees to let her but is very nervous about it (we later find out this is because he is not very good at math)

-teenage henry is a fucking delight yall. he sits there staring out the window at the trees and writing poetry (with long hair! long hair teenage hen is real!!!) about the trees and enjoying nature

-scary has to roll not to fall in love with him the second she finds out that he writes poetry (she fails)

-normal tries to bond with his grandfather. henry brushes him off entirely. its heartbreaking and also hilariously funny

-normal goes fucking apeshit yall. he gets so fed up of henry ignoring him and the others not talking to him and being trapped in this small room that he takes a crossbow and threatens tilt with it. she calls his bluff and he SHOOTS HER?

-at least, he tries. she catches the bolt and then tells him that if he's serious he needs to actually stab the bolt into her heart himself. he does. he's unhinged.

-tilt tries to explain her entire sob story backstory. darryl interrupts to boo her and call her a loser.

-glenn and taylor throw a desk out of the window to break it open. going out the window Will Kill You.

-ron paints the window like a slip and slide to try and trick tilt into going into it. it doesn't work. however two guards come in and it DOES work on one of the guards

-the other guard eventually gets physically thrown out of the window by taylor, who proudly declares that this will not affect him at all

-henry goes to talk to scary. scary gets excited, but then henry just asks if she thinks that teen darryl would go out with henry because even though he's "not henry's type", something about him is captivating. scary is heartbroken.

-darryl overhears this and rejects henry on the basis of him still dating carol! but offers to set henry up with carol's friends.

-glenn and taylor use awful fireworks to blind tilt, the other guard (that taylor kills), and normal since he was in range.

-scary tries to be bitter and calls henry out for being blind, but henry wasn't hit with the spell and immediately says some fakedeep shit about seeing more than most people do. it is insanely funny i cannot stress how funny teenage henry is

-link is now convinced that public schools were a mistake and he needs to leave Right Now. he rolls a nat 20 on taking the key, but uses it for himself to fucking dip. he just ditches them. he bolts for it. normal even tries to give him a high five and link completely goes NOPE.

-when nobody else has another form of escape, henry takes out his sketchbook? that apparently he always has as a teen? and uses summon creature to draw a boar and bring it to life. the boar smashes through the door and now they are saved!

-it is here that it is revealed this was all a dream but specifically a dream set pre-canon. darryl makes a comment about link being a narc. glenn tells taylor to never change because he's perfect exactly the way he is. scary tells ron that he sucks at math (and ron is very confused about scary's existence he doesn't know who she is).

-HENRY. tells normal to be the best version of himself. AND TO HELP HIM WITH THAT. he draws. TEENY. TO GIVE TO NORMAL AND INSPIRE HIM TO BE HIS BEST SELF. and that is how normal came up with teeny the teen as the mascot of teen high

-it was such a fun show, i'm so glad i got to attend! shame that it isn't being recorded