#prompt: fall

[flammabel]

Cal Kestis Week: Thursday day 4

Prompt: Fall

I have been going crazy hiding these for a few weeks and am excited to finally show them off.

Sorry for any emotional damage from a couple of them. Taking them was 😟

First pic, I altered my original using my sketchbook app and some art fussing. It came out better than I'd hoped! No mods on Xbox, just my imagination.

I found I could upload more images on web vs mobile, so enjoy. I had a lot of fun taking these and have more for later on.

[nilesdaughter]

i fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia, Trinket (Mention), Orthax (Mention), Saundor (Mention), Zahra Hydris (Mention), Vesper Elaina De Rolo (Mention) Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 1,212 Note: The fill for the "Fall" prompt for @percahliaweek. I also specifically dedicate this one to my beloved @lycaboros because, like Vex, falling in love with you was never a single definable moment. [Also found on Ao3.]

“I don’t know when it happened. When I fell.”

Vex’ahlia couldn’t help but think that it would have been impossible to fall in love in a single moment, because it had never been a single moment with Percival.

It was their initial meeting. How he looked up at her through the bars of his prison cell like he was seeing the sun after a long and stormy night that had blocked out the moons and stars. How, without hesitation, he passed over his entire coin purse to her once he retrieved his effects from the storage chest they’d been unceremoniously tossed into. How he gravitated towards Trinket, not shying away from her beloved bear like most everyone else did upon meeting him, and even seemed to find comfort in tangling his trembling hands into Trinket’s coarse fur.

It was the first trick arrow. How he’d been uncharacteristically unsure as he presented it to her, apologizing for the potential overstep. How the knowledge that he’d thought of her and crafted something that only she could use flustered her in a way she never would have expected. How he’d turned such a pretty shade of pink when she kissed him in gratitude.

It was Whitestone. How he said he trusted her to know if and when he lost control. How startled and touched his expression had been when she told him that he didn’t have to be alone when he faced the darkness ahead of him. How her voice, her words, had seemed to be the ones that pulled him away from Orthax’s influence just long enough that the connection between them was interrupted, offering Percy a chance to reorient himself and decide that he would not give in to the constant whispers of violence and vengeance that the demon promised him.

It was the broom. How he didn’t think any less of her for taking it, even if—in retrospect—it had been a shitty thing to do. How he worried for her safety the first few times she’d tried to use it to fly. How he took his worries and channeled that energy into making the enchanted item safer, even going so far as losing sleep over ensuring she had proper failsafes.

It was Syngorn. How she felt safe enough to admit that she was terrified of going back. How, for even just a moment, she allowed herself to rely on someone that wasn’t her brother. How he had assured her that she was worth so much more than she believed, so much more than what the elven city tried to convince her that she was worth. How he’d given her a title—a title—to ensure that her father was forced to acknowledge that she was accomplished, that she had risen up in the world after she’d abandoned his home so many years before. How, when Saundor tried to convince her to give up her heart, she felt she had no other choice but to admit that it already belonged to someone else.

It was Wildemount. How she had spent so much time dancing around the fact that her confession had played a part in ensuring the success of his resurrection that she almost missed the hints that he’d heard it, wherever his soul had been. How he’d agreed that they had to be willing to forgive in order to grow, to heal. How, even when she still couldn’t bring herself to find the courage to ask him if he’d heard her, he’d kissed her in the snow and promised they would find the time to talk about it all properly.

It was the Courage. How he was willing to play to her whims, even when her opening the door naked had apparently erased all his carefully laid plans for their evening before they went to take on Thordak. How he let her take the lead, deferred to her knowledge, however limited it was, to ensure they both found satisfaction in that evening’s shared bed. How he surprised her with continuing beyond the first round, showing off that he actually knew a little more about intimacy than he had let on, and made her feel like she was making love and not just having another casual fuck.

It was the Grey Hunt. How he had granted her a title that, for all intents and purposes, had to be earned before it could truly be hers. How he believed in her so wholeheartedly that he had no doubt she would earn it. How he’d clearly lost sleep waiting for her to return from her ritualistic challenge, ensured he was present when she finally did.

It was the manor. How he gave her free reign to design the space. How he was his ever meticulous self and ensured she had anything and everything she desired to outfit her new home. How it became his home, too, because more and more of him appeared there as the year stretched on. How it became a quiet haven amidst the patrolling and the politicking, a space where they could be their authentic, messy selves, even during the brief time they allowed their fears to force them apart.

It was their elopement. How it wasn't something either of them planned for, even with all his tendencies to mastermind all the details and all her tendencies to weigh the consequences before a decision was made. How the synchronization of their impulsive streaks left them giddy and nearly drunk on their love for each other. How, even with the love and support of their friends, they managed to ensure their formal dedication to each other was something they kept to themselves. (And bless Zahra for not breathing a word of it to anyone until they were ready.)

It was Elysium. How his faith in her never wavered, letting a god know just how much love and trust he had in her. How he was so proud of her fiery rebirth, so enamored with her brilliant sunlight, that he declared an additional star needed to be added to the De Rolo crest, their crest, to mark the occasion.

It was everything that came… after. How he understood the devastation of losing family. How he knew that her grief and the subsequent healing were in no way going to be linear. How they broke to pieces with night terrors and haunting memories, but were always there to catch each other, build each other back up with love and understanding. How he turned his brilliant mind away from weaponry and destruction and focused instead on clockwork and artistry. How he absolutely beamed when they realized they were going to have a child. How, when Vesper was born, he seemed to physically shed his identity as the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal’Dorei, shed his identity as Lord Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III. How, with their small daughter in his arms, he became so soft and doting, donning the identity of ‘papa’ with surprising ease. How he never squandered an opportunity to let them know just how much he loved them, how grateful he was to them for giving him a future he once believed he’d thrown away.

“I think it happened through all the little moments that I didn’t even notice.”

[crematosis]

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Put on A Show

TW: suicide attempts but for fun

After a few years of doing the whole vigilante thing, Danny gets bored of his quick and simple transformation act. He gets bored of doing the memes along with it as well — the 'I guess I'll die' was funny at first, but there's really only so many times it works.

The solution? He starts staging his own deaths. Throwing a toaster in the bathtub, comically falling down on a knife, slipping on a banana peal and hitting his head, all that jazz. He has his own list of preferred suicides, ranking from the quickest to slowest and from the least to most painful, and another one that goes from the least inconvenient method to most troublesome one. The first one on the latter is getting shot at. The last is getting suffocated in a swarm of bees so far.

His friends are long used to it — they are all Amity kids, honestly, their idea of humor is really twisted. They laugh their asses off when Danny attempts to strangle himself with one of those sour candy strips. They laugh even harder when he succeeds.

But then Danny moves for college and realizes that most people outside Amity Park don't think performed suicide is funny.

And, well.

Sucks to be them because Danny does not plan on stopping any time soon!

The absolute culmination of it comes one dark November evening, when the Fenton luck strikes again and Danny finds himself being a hostage in Joker's old as time performance: making Batman choose between saving Robin or saving a helpless civilian, both of them hanging over the tanks full of acid.

Only, midway through the madman's pathetic speech, they all get to see said civilian wake up, look around to realize what kind of situation he ended up in, and then excitedly say, "Sick, a jacuzzi!"

And happily, eagerly wiggle his way out of the ropes to fall in, screaming, "Cannonball!"

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[technically-human]

It's already requited, they're just stupid

[babyblankyerror]

Weird Magnet Stanley Pines :3

[ckret2]

I think the funniest thing you could do to the "give me liberty or give me universal omnicide!" guy who tried & failed to conquer Earth is stick him in group therapy with the guy who successfully conquered & tyrannically oppressed earth for thousands of years.

A few weeks ago in one of my servers we got asked "what other villains do you think could hold their own against Bill in a fight?" and then "what other characters do you think would get sent to Theraprism?" at almost the same time and I haven't been able to stop thinking about subjecting Bill & Aku to each other since.

I think they'd hate each other's guts.

[mischievous-thunder]

Yes. Yes, you are, you absolute wh❤️re!

[inkyrainstorms]

you guys know those AUs where Stanley opens the portal after thirty years but for Ford only a few second/minutes/days have passed in the portal.

What if, in another world - by the infinite nature of multiverse - the portal was functional enough for another run right there in the portal room, that blistery cold 1982 winter day. What if, when Stanley threw enough things around and pressed enough buttons and the portal opened again (in the same spot in the Nightmare Realm it had before) (not calibrated to Ford like had been in canon) the Ford had stepped out was the one from his final confrontation with Bill. What if Ford stepped out thirty years older and wiser and angrier

What if he saw Stanley crying, relieved, and then terrified and confused and devastated. What if he, at sixty years old, saw Stanley and saw only a scared child, half his age. His brother.

What if Ford had thought his brother had left and grown up for those long thirty years, but he came back and it was his brother that saved him that very night? His brother, by sheer dumb luck? His brother, who couldn't have accounted for time dilation if he tried (not like the old Stanley did) but still tried

[controledcaos]

🍂 ⊹₊ ⋆ 𝕽𝖚𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖒𝖓 ⊹₊ ⋆ 🍂

[dandey-lion]

Dpxdc prompt.

Imagine there are tinier ancients, ancients of planets. But instead of every ancient having one planet, they would be the ancient of a group of planets that are similar and possess similar qualities.

For simplicity, I will refer to these ancients as the ancient of [insert planet of our solar system that falls under their domain] ex: Ancient of Jupiter

For years, the Ancient of Mars has harbored resentment against the people of Earth for throwing their little machines all over her precious planet. They take parts of it back- for study, they say! Why, There’s even rumors of those little pests moving there! How dare they!

And they just keep coming.

She complains to the Ancient of Earth, but again and again they disturb her perfect planet.

One day she snaps.

She descends upon Earth.

The Justice League is scrambling- they had no time to prepare for such a large threat. Unless they stop her, she will transform Earth into an unrecognizable planet- a planet like Mars, which cannot sustain all of Earth’s life.

Unless they stop her, it will be a massacre that they may not recover from.

So they have to stop her.

They go to fight.

They have gotten ready the best they can. They have found where she is. They go forth to fight for their home and everything in it-

She’s thrown in front of them, battered and bruised, shaking and trembling. They ready themselves as she tries to get up, but a flash of green obscures their vision.

The light clears, they dare to look up.

Bright, green glow. White, floating hair. Shimmering black and white clothes that hold the stars.

And his eyes.

Wild and angry, so full of raw emotion it exudes from him in waves.

This man, too ethereal to be real, glowing, holds the Ancient of Mars by her throat.

[tender-traps]

grab them by the hair

grabbing a fistful of their hair to hold them in place for the next punch or slap

grabbing their hair to force them to look at you

grabbing their hair to make them bow

grabbing their hair to slam their head back into the wall

grabbing their hair to smash their face on the floor

grabbing their hair to make them bare their throat to you

grabbing their hair to stop them moving away from the blade or syringe at their neck

grabbing their hair to dunk their head under water

grabbing their hair to rub their face in a mess

grabbing their hair to pull them across the room before throwing them down where they belong

grabbing their hair to hold them up when they’re about to slump over

grabbing their hair to drag them up to their knees from where they lay on the floor

placing your hand in their hair when they’re already kneeling just to remind them what you could do with it

stroking their hair as a half-hearted apology after pulling a little too much

comment more please :)

[somdxr]

cw: eyestrain

pretend it's still january shhhhhhh

[bluetaho]

When disco plays our tune!

Closeups and no gradient version!!

[justhereforsomethingnice]

Danny is dead, which manifests as a ghost which falls under the anti ecto acts. Classified the same as insects, less rights then a corpse or a gun. Thing is, he discovered he’s also a meta. Sure, it wasn’t anything grand or amazing or something. His meta power was literally seeing through clouds if he wanted to. Which, is awesome, yay for star gazing and on misty morning drives he’s Jazz’s go to copilot but other then that? Not really much use (he’s not counting the times he was able to spot enemies hiding in cloud coverage or trying to use smoke machines).

However, now as he was visiting metropolis, the GIW had found him. Great? No.

So as Superman (who was told by official government agents that he was a dangerous criminal despite looking like a toddler in his eyes) grabbed him, agents in white creeping up on the sides, he said the first thing coming to mind. “I’m a meta, you can’t do shit to me.”

He snarled it to the GIW of course but now they’re kinda stumped at that reaction and if that would effect the anti ecto laws. Superman just thinks he has a self righteous, stuck up little prick in his hands.

Misunderstandings ensue.