#one. handed. write.

[femmefruit]

having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.

a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.

“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”

it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.

“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”

“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”

your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.

they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.

“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”

the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.

“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[inkskinned]

i keep thinking about how rfk said that autistic people "will never write a poem." i keep thinking about that, about if humanity is calculated on the back of old verse. how far we measure personhood is in baseball and stanza breaks.

i keep thinking - i have over 7k poems on here alone. language can be a special interest, after all. did you know the word autism comes almost direct from the greek word autos, meaning "self"? self-ism.

maybe he is right - i haven't really played baseball. i was a ballet dancer instead. and besides - my sister once accidentally hit me in the face with an aluminum bat. i'm not sure if the injury gives me half points. am i only a person in the dugout? hand in a mitt? swinging?

does softball count? does cricket? am i a person if i throw the ball to my dog. am i a person as long as the ball is in the air, or do i stop being a person as it rolls into the bushes. i took my girlfriend to fenway recently; was i a person in the sun, with my hands up, with the game laid out at my feet in a diamond. i felt like a person, but that was back in the summer, and i often feel my most person-like then.

am i more of a person because of the sheer number of things i've written? does quality matter, or is it quantity? i used to write entire books every summer in high school - i wasn't doing well. i felt the least like-a-person back then. but then - does any person feel human in high school?

in the library, ink on my skin, i feel personhood shutter at the edges of myself. actually, writing feels blissfully like not being myself. it feels birdlike; escaping into creation so my body dissolves and i survive only by muscle memory. i am not there, i am writing.

but who can deny the falconlike focus of warsan shire, the tenderness of mary oliver, the sheer skill of amanda gorman. those are poets. they are certainly human. you could line them up with the way their words have influenced us and measure their literary shadows like wings.

perhaps it was very assumptive of me to want to be a poet rather than "a [ label ] poet." i wanted the work to fill itself in, rather than be stained by what i am. i do not write in despite of my neurodivergence, i am just neurodivergent and writing.

does the poem have to be in english or can i send it through my palms into the coat of my dog. does the poem have to make sense. does the poem have to love you back.

if i break a glass, will the poem appear naturally? or is the act of breaking the glass human-enough. the shards of my life glittering out beneath me - do i have to write the poem, or is it self-evident in the pile of glass splinters? i cannot grasp this world the way other people can. regardless, i endeavor to touch - even the mess - very gently.

i broke my toenail against my coffee table recently. i released a bug outdoors. i made coffee. i walked my dog.

i didn't write a poem about any of these things.

something else, then. existing without humanity.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

oikawa fucking your throat while iwaizumi is in the room next door...

his hand is on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping into the bathroom cupboard every time he bottoms out. his pubes tickle your nose and you gag around his cock, making him to bite down on his lip in order to muffle the loud groan that's forcing its way up his throat.

he doesn't pull out.

he strokes your cheek with his free hand instead, a sick smile playing on his lips as he stares down at you. "y'have to be quiet, baby... or iwa is going to hear you, okay?"

beads of sweat form above his brows, his cheeks are dusted pink and his voice is raspier than ever and it's easy to forget the ache in your knees when you get to see him unraveling like this in front of you.

his hair is a mess, too – just before coming in here, he had his head on your lap, quietly purring as you played with his soft curls. iwaizumi was sat at the other end of the couch, his eyes glued on the tv screen where the movie oikawa himself had chosen.

you think this was his plan all along – to pick a film his friend would love so he could toy with you instead.

iwaizumi didn't notice the way oikawa kept kneading your thighs as he laid there on top of you, how his fingers inched further between your legs with every breath he took. iwaizumi didn't notice the way oikawa kept squirming, or the way he kept trying to readjust his pants.

(or at least, you think iwaizumi missed it all.)

you tried to make him stop, your body burning from his teasing touch. glancing over at iwaizumi, you were glad to never meet his gaze – like a statue he was, eyes set forward as if was built that way. maybe he really did just like the film so much..

oikawa knows that's not the case.

he knows the film is the last thing on iwaizumi's mind right now.

he has seen the way he looks at you sometimes, how iwaizumi flushes a pretty shade of dark pink whenever he happens to see you bending over. or when you sit a little too close to him by accident – oikawa doesn't mind, he can tell you're not doing it on purpose. it's not like iwaizumi is doing any of it on purpose either; the way he screws his eyes shut after catching himself staring at you while your boyfriend, his best friend, is in the same room. he feels bad, he feels awful about having these thoughts. these filthy ideas.

but he really can't help it.

oikawa isn't making it any easier for him either; he's constantly all over you and while iwaizumi knows that he is very touchy, the eye-contact oikawa makes with him as he's pressing a kiss just below your jaw cannot be anything other than him trying to push iwaizumi's buttons.

he hates how much hotter your reactions make the whole thing, too. the way your eyes meet his for a mere second before shying away. oikawa can only laugh to himself as you try to shove him off of you, knowing full well that if you really wanted him to stop, you'd tell him. you want the attention as much as oikawa does and it shows.

and oikawa is more than excited to give his best friend a deeper look into your relationship.

so, here he is now – balls pressed against your chin as you drool and slobber all over his dick. he knows that iwaizumi is listening, he can see the shadow from beneath the door. and that's turning him on even more.

oikawa cradles your jaw before giving his hips one more thrust, his blown wide eyes twinkling at the sight of your rolling back inside your head at the feeling of having your mouth so full. of having him so far deep your throat.

you hold back another gag as spit dribbles from the corners of your lips and it's making a big fucking mess – it's all over your chin and your neck, and your soft plush thighs. the shorts you're wearing are doing almost nothing to cover you up and with the way you're down on your knees right now, they seem to have disappeared entirely under the hem of your oversized shirt.

it's fucking hot.

oikawa watches the sticky liquid trickle between your legs and he can't but be proud of how big of a mess he's making in his friend's bathroom. he knows for a fact that iwaizumi's listening to you two right now, his ear probably pressed against the wooden door as he tries to memorize every sound that you make. every gag, every splutter of drool. oikawa wonders whether he's touching himself too, is he rubbing his bulge over his sweats or is he still trying to act normal. is he still trying to convince himself that he isn't a dirty fucking pervert, who's currently collecting masturbation material by creeping on his best friend and his beloved while they're having fun?

you tap on his thigh with a shaky hand and he pulls away in a second, his dick springing up and slapping against his tummy at the same time you take a desperate breath in. he chuckles at your ruined state.

the tears brimming at your lashline make you look like an angel and oikawa can't tear his eyes off of you. there's a shine to your swollen lips; it's a mixture of your own drool and his precum – his favourite.

you're still trying to catch your breath when you look up at him; his fingers are wrapped around his length, his fist meeting his full balls with every strong stroke he makes and this look, the layer of pleasure that's painted onto his pretty face is something you wish to burn into your memory forever.

when your eyes meet, oikawa gives you a darling smile before lunging at you, hunching over in order to smash his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss. keeping a steady pace on his cock, he grabs at your face as if he's afraid you'll fade away – he moans into your mouth, the salty residue on your tongue making his dick twitch in his hand.

the slick sounds of oikawa pumping himself and him trying to eat your face reverberate through the room andn suddenly you remember where you are.

your eyes grow big as you try to push at oikawa's chest.

"w– wait.. "

he grins while nipping at your jaw. "what's wrong, baby?"

his teeth brush over your pulse point and he doesn't waste a second before sinking them into your skin and sucking until he's rewarded you with the most gorgeous masterpiece in the world. all the best for his lover.

"haji– hajime's here... "

"no, it's just me, baby." a wave of goosebumps runs over your body when you feel him licking the fresh mark on your neck. "your boyfriend, tooru. remember?"

he laughs at his own joke, his head resting against yours as he pushes himself back up. oh, and how he wants to drop back down when he sees the glare you're giving him. "tough crowd, hm?"

oikawa coos at your scrunched up brows while brushing a finger over your pouty lips. "aw, don't worry, he's in the other room, okay? you're being so good for me, all quiet and pretty. my angel."

it's hard not to believe his sickly sweet words, the love in his eyes smoothing every pain and worry in your body with ease. you don't say anything else when he steps closer again, now replacing the finger on your lips with his sticky tip instead. "yeah?"

he cocks an eyebrow and you give him a nod. the corners of his lips stretch wider as he pumps his cock right above your face. "say 'aaaaaah' for me, baby."

this cocky side of him is something you've never been able to resist. it looks good on him. his own lips part alongside with yours when you present your mouth to him again and he doesn't even try to hold back the pornographic moan that spills from him at the feeling of your warm tongue sliding against the underside of his cock.

but while you're distracted by the heavenly sound of your boyfriend's overwhelming pleasure, you miss the creak of the bathroom door.

oikawa's eyes meet iwaizumi's ashamed ones through the slightest crack but neither of them make any effort to look away. oikawa is more than happy to finally see his best friend crumble and iwaizumi is mortified.

but he can't.

he can't move. he can't close the door. he can't stop staring.

oikawa's eyes fall down to your screwed shut ones, pride blooming in his chest when your nose touches his trimmed pubic hairs. head still shoved against the cupboard, he's the one in full control – your mouth is his, your body a perfect doll for him to play with. and he loves it.

you swallow around him and he lets out yet another heavenly moan. his hand is back on your cheek, his warm palm engulfing the side of your face in reassurance that while he's got the reigns, it's all done with love. your eyes crack open just as another few tears drop and oikawa's hips pick up the pace. he adores it when you hold his gaze; he thinks it's the most romantic thing in the world and so whenever you do it while taking him in your mouth, he just loses it.

quickly, he places his free hand behind your head again and then he's fucking your mouth like it's the only things he knows. back and forth, his cock slides in and out your tight, warm throat; the sounds that come from the act are just outright sinful, they're something a person could only hear in his dreams and oikawa doesn't know what he did to deserve a sweetheart like you.

it doesn't take a lot for him to sense his nearing orgasm, his body going rigid, tensing up as the knot in his lower tummy tightens and tightens.

iwaizumi is still there. oikawa doesn't need to look at him to know it.

from the corner of his eye he can see movement – so he is finally giving in. iwaizumi is stroking himself through the material of his sweats, his cock painfully hard as he watches oikawa fuck your mouth. he has never seen anything like this; maybe in some videos, sure, but seeing it with his own two eyes is completely different.

the sounds. the sweat. the drool.

the eye-contact you have with oikawa. the way he's holding you.

the fact that he hasn't told iwaizumi to 'fuck off' yet. the fact that he clearly wants him there, that he wants him to see this.

his own precum is starting to leak through his pants and it's embarrassing. but there's no stopping now. not when oikawa's hips are starting to stutter, not when you're starting to guide him to yourself by sinking your nails into the back of his thighs.

oikawa gives you second long breaks but you're handling it so well that iwaizumi begins to wonder how much you let him do this. would you ever let him—

he shakes his head to get rid of the thought, the idea of actually doing anything with you weighing heavily on his heart. and if sensing his inner turmoil, oikawa's raspy voice breaks him out from his head.

"fuck.. you- you'd like it if he did hear you, right?"

iwaizumi's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his lips parting as panic flood his veins. based on the look on oikawa's face, he assumes that you don't agree with him – he's staring at you with that grin of his, the infuriating one, and iwaizumi prepares for him to pull out, so you can finally see what he's been doing. so you can see what kind of a man he really is.

but oikawa doesn't pull away, bottoming out instead. he takes a moment as if he's waiting for your answer – and when he gets one, the very same he knew would be the truth, his lips stretch even wider.

he doesn't need you to say it when he can read your body better than any other language in the world.

he sees the way your thighs press together. he feels your nails digging into his thighs harder than ever before. he knows his right.

like always.

"yeah... that's what i thought."

iwaizumi thinks he might pass out. his hands shake and the air he's breathing doesn't seem good enough – he's trying his best to not start panting like a dog but you not disagreeing with oikawa is a lot. you want him to hear? you want him to be a part of this?

you want.. him?

"want haji to see you like this, hm? want him to see how well you take me down your throat?"

iwaizumi thinks he might die actually.

oikawa chuckles when you blink up at him with tears in your eyes and coos at you when he takes his dick out of your mouth and you still don't say no. "my little star, yeah?"

you show him your tongue and he groan at the way you give yourself to him. he bottoms for the last time of the night, his messy balls pressed flushed against your drool-covered chin as you struggle to keep your eyes on him. "in— fuck— inside?"

humming around his cock, you give him the last push and then he's already spilling his seed down your hungry throat. you gag around him again, the feeling of cum suddenly flooding your mouth a bit too much. with a hand in your head, oikawa pulls away and watches you swallow as much of him as you can. the rest of it spills out from the corners of your lips and trickles down your chin and neck, successfully mixing with every other type of bodily fluid that's already coating your skin.

and then you give him a smile.

oikawa feels like his knees are going to give out as he throws his head back with a dramatic moan. "ohhh.... "

"what?"

his head snaps back to its place, his eyes finding yours in an instant while you slap a hand over your mouth.

your voice. it's almost completely gone, reduced down to a bare rasp by his relentless thrusts and his need to always give it his all, no matter what he's doing.

a sudden flash of shyness takes over, the tone coming from your mouth sounding so unfamiliar that it's almost impossible for you to accept that it is, in fact, yours. but when oikawa kneels down in front of you, his both hands now on your cheeks and when his heart filled eyes find yours, the feelings disappears.

he presses his lips against your forehead and you feel the fondness spread all over your body. "i love you so much, did you know that?"

his cheeks are still pink and despite the fact that just a minute ago, he was fucking your throat like it was his own personal fleshlight, he looks awfully cute with that bashful smile on his face.

oikawa nudges his nose against yours when you don't speak up again, only nodding your head with a tired smile.

"so cute."

the slap against his chest forces another burst of giggles out of your boyfriend but you're not mad. you do love him afterall. he pulls you into his chest and lets you rest for a minute before tugging you up and helping you clean yourself up.

iwaizumi is gone.

oikawa can only imagine the way his best friend is now shamefully changing out of his ruined sweats, the images of you and oikawa now forever engrained into his brain.

after oikawa carries you back to the couch, he snickers at iwaizumi and his fresh pair of pants. but that's all. nobody says anything – iwaizumi doesn't inquire about why you left him all alone and you don't ask about the flush on his cheeks.

oikawa is the only one that is sitting proudly between the two people he loves the most. his fingers dance over the sensitive skin of iwaizumi's nape while his other hand rests on your shoulder, holding you to him as you slowly doze off into your dreamland.

he's very happy about the progress you've all made today.

[humanjarvis]

sylus had never cared for his birthday—until you. 

year after year, he preferred to let the day slip by undetected. no half-hearted well wishes, no unwanted gifts. it was…simpler that way.

but when you’d come into his life, he’d allowed himself to be naive. to imagine spending the day with you, happy and untroubled. 

with only a few days to spare—he still hadn’t told you his birthday—you’d thrown yourself into his lap as a last resort. with big eyes and a pleading pout, you’d coaxed him into telling you the date, and he’d folded like a paper crane: april 18.

but instead of the satisfied smile he’d anticipated, your exaggerated pout became real; you were crestfallen. you had a mandatory mission scheduled for that day, you’d told him. and he’d cracked a smart joke in response. 

he should have seen it coming, with fate’s constant assault on him. it was foolish for a man like him to ever hope for anything. 

he’d be okay on his own, just like he had been in all the decades prior, but for once in his life he’d been looking forward to celebrating with you. and perhaps, just a little, being celebrated. it would have been nice. unfamiliar, yes, but if you were the one doing the celebrating…nice.

he supposes there’s always next year, though—if you still tolerate him by then.

with a heavy sigh, sylus steps into the base after a late-night joy ride, too consumed by his woes to sense the figures scattered in the shadows of the living room. 

the next second, something soft and warm pounces on his back, and the familiar feel of your body is the only thing keeping you from being flipped and pinned to the floor—and not in the way that he fantasizes about. 

he relaxes almost immediately, and as he steadies you in his strong arms, you lean down to speak into his ear: “surprise,” you murmur, lips brushing his cheek in a lingering kiss. 

“SURPRISE!” come the calls of the other culprits. in sync as usual, luke and kieran pop up from their hiding spots, jazz hands on full display. and it seems that mephisto is the final accomplice, with his excited caws echoing through the room.

sylus sets you down gently when the lights flick on. crimson streamers and balloons adorn the room, but not to be outdone is the giant, crow-shaped cake staring up at him from the coffee table. a party hat made of frosting and sprinkles sits atop its head.

as he takes in the scene before him, sylus’s stunned face softens with mirth. clearing his throat, he gives the twins a grateful nod, and they preen at his approval. with an excited high-five, they shuffle out of the room, tugging a displeased mephisto with them by the tail. 

in the quiet that follows, he pulls you close, feeling the warmth of your bodies blend. he holds you like this for a few moments—swaying gently in each other’s embrace, surrounded by the signs of your love. 

a few more beats, and he pulls away slightly—just enough to cradle your cheek in his calloused hand. and when he rasps a quiet “thank you,” eyes shining like polished rubies, he hopes you can feel his sincerity. 

[shivunin]

Rook Codex Writing Prompts

A list of 30 writing prompts inspired by other DA codex prompt lists. Contains no plot spoilers for Veilguard.

A letter to Rook about their exile

An entry from Rook’s journal

A letter from Rook to someone in their faction

A note from a companion to Rook about the Lighthouse

A conversation overheard between Rook and a companion

Healer’s summary of treatment for Rook’s wounds

Something written by a character from a previous game about Rook

A future historian’s analysis of Rook’s actions (Bonus: featuring a relevant primary source)

Rook’s shopping list 

Note found in Rook’s pocket

Report summarizing what is known about Rook by an allied or enemy faction

Rook’s daily schedule

A message between two companions about Rook

A letter from a faction leader to a companion about Rook’s actions

Rook’s packing list for travel to a quest location

Letter from Rook to their love interest

Rook’s notes on the Lighthouse/Caretaker

Notes between a companion and Rook regarding a personal quest

Inventory of personal belongings Rook left behind when they left their faction

Something written about Rook on a historical plaque

A letter from an enemy regarding Rook

An entry from an encyclopedia/travel guide about an aspect of Rook’s background (Bonus: followed by a note from Rook supporting or refuting its accuracy)

Excerpt from a play dramatizing Rook’s actions (Bonus: include a review of this play)

A letter from Rook to a faction leader

Notes taken by Rook when they were young/in training

A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend

Analysis of a piece of art created for/about Rook

Propaganda for or against Rook

Something written to Rook post-game

A note/letter that Rook never sent

[bluerosefox]

Little Grayson and his Talon Knights

Got a new idea cooking in my head.

Another DPxDC idea.

A reborn into DCverse Toddler!Danny but also Dad!Dick and Talons.

Danny is reborn into the DCverse (either he's a clone of Dick, a created test tube baby, OR a kid Dick unknowingly had during his amnesia year) and wakes up in the Court of Owls who finally have their Gray Son and will turn him into the greatest Talon ever.

Thing is, Danny still has his ghost powers (King Danny? Idk leaving it open, either that or just able to control clean ectoplasm) and knows whatever fruitloops have him, this will not be fun. So, when none of the Owls are watching him, he uses his abilities to influence a few Talons and they all book it out of the place.

Danny later finds himself walking the dirty Gotham streets with a few Talons, one holding his hand while the others hide in the shadows in case they need to protect the baby Talon they all care for.

Of course, the sighting of a Talon holding a toddler's hand catches the camera's and Oracles attention very very fast.

One of the Batboys is sent out, not Dick he's on a space mission right now, and whoever it is, is shocked to see a toddler that has a LOT of similarities to Dick.

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 36-39)

* To note. Her hands are scaly. * And...unexpectedly wet?

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[rotruff]

wising you a very sleeping on your f/os chest so you can hear their hearbeat or vice versa. wishing you a very instinctively moving towards one another and pulling eachother close and holding on tighter in sleep. wishing you a very one quietly talking to the other who's spouting off sleeptalk-nonsense in loose responses. wishing you a very ignoring blankets in favor of eachothers warmth. wishing you a very kisses to the crown of the forehead and the cheek and the collarbone and the shoulder and the crook of the jaw right where it meets the neck. ok?

[femmefruit]

you know what i touch myself about all the time? the time my wife edged me for her birthday last year. thinking about her slowing to a full stop when i whined that i was going to cum on her cock, and thinking about the exchange that followed.

“no, wait! don’t stop, i can take it.”

“yeah? you think so? why is that?”

“hm?”

“why can you take it so well?”

“because i’m a good girl.”

“whose good girl?”

“your good girl.”

her, grinning at me as she pushes my legs back to dig in deeper, “that’s right, baby.”

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Fanart of darklordofawesomeness's Cat Stan AU.

The first drawing is labelled 'Chapter 58 - Cat Mania' and has a lineup of Stan, Mabel, Wendy, Dipper, and Soos as cats. Stan is fluffy and dark brown with white markings. Mabel and Dipper are nearly-identical brown kittens, with white markings on their face. Wendy is a fluffy mostly-red calico, and is in the leggy stage of being a kitten. Soos is a fat light brown tabby, with a short tail.

In the next image: cat Stan carries kitten Mabel by the scruff of her neck while kitten Dipper marches behind them; Stan as a human holds up a pissed off kitten Wendy; Ford lies on his stomach holding a camera and kicking his feet; cat Soos lies on his back.

In the third image: cat Stan gives kitten Dipper a cat bath while Soos lies behind them and Mabel crawls all on Stan's back; in the same pose, Stan looks up but holds down Dipper while he tries to escape, and Mabel sits on Stan's head, posing cutely.

In the fourth, cat Stan brings kitten Mabel and Dipper over to Ford, who is lying in bed looking tired. He pets Stan and says " Am I supposed to be giving you more cat socialization? Shit." In the second drawing, Ford, now a cat, stands over cat Stan. Stan says "What the fuck" and Ford says "I had an idea." Then Ford bites Stan's ear.

In the last two images, cat Stan leaps off of Ford's back; and kitten Wendy bites Manly Dan's hand. End ID]

More cats from @dark-lord-of-awesomeness's Cat Stan series! This time from Chapter 58 of Cat Stan Shorts, in which the kids and Soos accidentally turn themselves into cats and, as with all things, it's entirely Ford's fault

[vitreouspositive]

when old friends turn into strangers and when "i thought you were dead" turns into "you should've died"

[ihatebrainstorm]

Batch 2 of commissions finished! They were all really fun to do :D Thank you again to those who comm'd me! o)-(

(Technically there were 3, but the third isn't a mech thingy so I'd rather just post the mech ones here)

[babyblankyerror]

I love him so much you don't understand

Honestly I love Hitman Stan so much I just don't even know what to do with him. Have some doodles instead