#reality manipulation

[gingerly-writing]

Prompt #3471

The supersmart hero squinted at their nemesis. "You can't just change reality every time I'm right about something and you don't like it."

"I absolutely can-"

"No, you can't." The hero smirked. "Because your powers only work a few times a day, and I'm right all the goddamn time."

[malehypnofantasy]

As he lowered you down to your knees, he also slid his sweaty shorts simultaneously to reveal a throbbing 9 incher meat, ready to impale you and stuff your brain with its thick, creamy content. You cannot believe your luck, the uni's hot janitor looked your way and decided that you, the uni's tight end, deserved his cock to impale your mouth and probably slid into your tight straight hole

But if anyone ever caught you two in the act, what they will see is the school's red-haired obese janitor is fucking the shit out of the homophobic tight end's hole, and you are seemingly enjoying every second of it. Even the CCTV recording will also reveal the same thing, and how you are screaming and moaning the janitor's name out loud like a man whore that you are. But if the one that watched the CCTV or caught you two red handed were enchanted by the janitor's hypnotic power, like the coach and the security, they will see what the janitor want them to see, that he is a fit and handsome 30-something buff muscle guy dominating the tight end that was seconds before, sexting with his own girlfriend

[theindexproject]

The voting has been cast, but make sure to follow and subscribe so you don't miss the next chapter and other stories! https://www.youtube.com/@TheIndex Also join the conversation on the Discord channel! https://discord.gg/zy25mxTuht

[theomnicode]

Sometimes you find a golden egg from reddit

A very, VERY good point made about Garou understanding the flow of all energies and knowledge of the forces in the universe.

And then he cannot comprehend what in the actual living hell Saitama did when he kicked the portal and then moved his second one. Nor can he copy what Saitama did, therefore it's not a force or energy in the universe that exists to be copied. He can copy Saitama's divine power, his strenght and how he gets stronger when he feels emotions, because this is definitely a power that can be manifested in the opm world...but not that. Not grabbing hyperspace portals and multiplying himself and willing himself to a location.

Saitama doing eldrich abomination stuff and/or using forces that do not actually exist in the verse lmao.

I guess manipulating the reality itself would be that. That eldrich abomination, H.P. Lovecraftian horror shit.

Just a gag character though, right? Saitama doing bugs bunny shit...but it makes sense, because cartoon characters are doing irrational stuff with gags. But they're also cartoon characters. Saitama pulling gags in a non-gag verse is no longer just a gag.

[ngdrb]

The Curse of Seraphina's Dollhouse

My latest book

A child receives a beautiful dollhouse that mimics her shown home, but the miniature versions of her family start to behave increasingly ominously.

[averageperson888]

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason is terrified of Damian al Ghul-Wayne.

Talia dipped him in the Pit, fed him lies, put him through the worst kinds of pain possible for the sake of training and turned him into a monster that went to heel when called. A monster even Ra’s was wary of.

He’s terrified of Damian, because if his mother managed to manipulate and play him like a fiddle, then she must have taught the same to her son.

Damian, who only has memories of a catatonic Jason cooing at him, cuddling him and protecting him, is becoming progressively more distressed by Jason’s perpetual cold shoulder and skittish behavior whenever Jason sees him.

[uramitashi]

women really do need better class consciousness.

before you are religious, before you are a citizen of your nation, before you are anything else; you are a woman. your identity is complex but womahood is one of its first pillars. and womanhood is so important because so strictly tied, during her whole existence, to her implications: the ability to reproduce and the relative independence (ie: not having to desperately find another mate to pass on your genes + developing a physiological selectiveness) coming from it. female objectification, sex work, misogyny, female modesty, FGM, everything that hurts women stems from it. males want to control women sexuality because of it. it is therefore natural that womanhood is ontologically more important than any other label - because if you neglect it, others will surely not.

[cup1dl0a]

Manifestation Success Story ! !

Hey! Basically, I’m here to talk about how I manifested my dream through a really simple method. Let’s get straight into it.

My story:

I was an “outsider” in my class. I rarely talked and nobody really interacted with me. And basically there was this really popular group of friends, let’s call the 7 members: ‘Sarah’, ‘Sam’, ‘Heather’, ‘Yuki’, ‘Len’, ‘Dennis’, and ‘Dahlia’ (all fake names ofc<3). I really wanted to join this friend group, but I really didn’t want to befriend ‘Sam’. However, I really wanted to befriend ‘Len’, ‘Dennis’, and ‘Dahlia’.

The method:

Listening to sublimiminals. That’s it. I simply created a subliminal playlist that was about 10 mins long consisting of 5ish subs and one booster and listened to it once every night.

How long did it take me?:

One day. That’s it. Listening to my playlist while doing other things (hw, games, drawing etc) for a single day, and guess what? I saw results. Ofc, I now have full results which took me about a week or so.

Results?:

Well, I’m in my desired friend group. It consists of ‘Dennis’, ‘Len’, ‘Dahlia’, and me. Mind you, I didn’t talk to any of them before manifesting. And now, guess what? We’re going to an amusement park together this week!!

Basically, no, you do not have to affirm a thousand times. You don’t have to enter the void state. You don’t have to visualize or trick your mind. All you need is consistency and persistence.

Good luck on your journey, I hope this helped!

[sappy-detective]

ashamed to say the early creepypasta fandom trained my brain so when i think of slenderman interacting with his proxys all i imagine is him holding a tin of cookies wearing a pink apron as he reprimands the children

[rorynni]

can we as armin fans agree that he can be manipulative and underhanded when necessary to protect himself and his comrades but it’s not something that he does regularly or for his own personal gain

[theindexproject]

YOU chose that Theo should appeal to Seraph's mercy and ask for help. And it worked! Seraph will help you, but at what cost? Now you must decide, HOW Seraph is going to help! Don't forgot to vote in the comments, the community post, X, or on our Discord channel!

YOU DECIDE. What should he do? Subscribe and stay tuned for new episodes!

Catch up by checking out the audio version on Spotify! https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/the-index-project

---

Learn more and sign up at https://theindex.world and get the first FREE issue of "ebbing", the Index Project's first comic book, once it's published!

== ABOUT THE INDEX PROJECT ==

The Index Project is an experiment in running a Sci-Fi franchise that puts YOU in the driver seat. It's an audience participation storyworld that blurs the line between story and reality across film series, comic books, novels, video games, and more. Get involved and stay active to help shape the storyworld, become a creator and maybe even get a cameo.

== SOCIALS ==

https://discord.gg/zy25mxTuht https://x.com/theindexproject https://www.instagram.com/theindexproject/ https://www.facebook.com/TheIndexProject/

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Rites: St Patrick's Day

It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.

I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.

He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his

I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me

"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"

"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"

"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"

And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.

I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.

I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said

"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"

And just like that, I accepted that as my truth

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[paeonie-s]

my current read on yoshidas ch is that hes the equivalent of a high schooler being made manager of a mcdonald’s bc all of his adult coworkers quit which leads him to believe that the fate of the world now depends on his ability to keep the drive thru times below 90 seconds

[aventurineswife]

A kinda specific and maybe long but fun idea i had for a req:

Essentially, {and bare w me, i’m half asleep writing this lol} Reader x Sunday, and Reader is a childhood friend of his, who he loved, and someday when they were older, Reader was tragically killed in an incident. Sunday however, in a grief stricken state, decides to rebel against his original goal for the sweetdream paradise (penacony arc reference) and decides to shape it into a dream instead where he’s happily married to Reader, although for the sake of the dream he’s altered their memories. ending is essentially up to you!

{some additional ideas i had if you wanted to, were things like an argument between gopher and sunday, or robin and sunday, in whichever points of the story you wanted}

alternatively, a different Aventurine version would be interesting, mostly w the same set up but Sunday met Reader during Aventurine’s mission on Penacony, liked them, and Aven has to basically fight off the dream and Sunday.

but yeah, that’s pretty much it, everything else is up for creative liberties! i hope this one is at least somewhat interesting lol xx and srry if some of it doesn’t make sense 😓🤍

“Sometimes, the hardest part of letting go is realizing that the dream was never real”

Summary: In the idyllic yet hollow world of Sweetdream Paradise, Sunday crafts a perfect life with you—his lost love, altered memories and all—to escape the sorrow of reality. But as others begin to break through his illusion, and you start to remember fragments of a different fate, the dream begins to fracture. Torn between love and the harshness of truth, Sunday must finally face the choice to let you go, or remain forever in his self-made paradise.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, unrequited love, grief, loss, dreamscape, bittersweet ending, altered memories, memory manipulation, moral dilemma, angst, hurt/comfort, alternate reality, surrealism, slow unraveling, denial of reality.

Warnings: Grief, themes of manipulation, psychological trauma, implied death of Reader, reality distortion, emotional conflict, bittersweet resolution, morally ambiguous decisions.

A/N: Don't worry, anon! I appreciate all the details, the more details the more I can try to understand what you want exactly! Though I probably changed some bits of it here 😪

Sunday had always been proud of his role within Penacony, the creator of Sweetdream Paradise—a place where sorrow could be stilled, where suffering dissolved into an endless realm of serene dreams. It was a comforting reality he believed people needed, a soft oblivion to cradle them. Yet, in the depths of his mind, his peaceful philosophy hid a darker purpose, shaped by the ache of a loss he could never endure.

You had been his friend, a constant light in his youth, a companion who grounded his dreams. For as long as he remembered, you were there, with laughter that melted his worries and eyes that could see through his layered philosophies. But the day you were lost, taken too soon in a tragic incident, the world itself had hollowed out for him. The pain of your absence haunted him like a shadow, feeding a grief so deep that he was willing to defy his original purpose. In that moment of desolation, he turned Sweetdream Paradise into something far more personal—a realm where you still lived, where you loved him just as much as he had loved you.

In this new dream, Sunday made alterations. He reshaped your memories, softened the sharp edges of reality, and wove a seamless history where you had married him, where together, you built a life free of tragedy. In this dream, he could protect you eternally, shielded by his crafted illusion.

You woke to sunlight filtering through the windows, lying beside Sunday as the golden morning glow danced over his features. His eyes opened, catching you with a familiar warmth, and he reached over, brushing his fingers across your cheek.

"Good morning." he murmured, voice low and rich, as if savoring the simplicity of that greeting.

Every day was like this—a gentle, perfect rhythm that never seemed to break. You didn’t remember a world outside of this home, this life with him. And as you looked at him, you felt safe, loved, yet there was always a faint unease, like a fragment of something forgotten.

But the days went on, filled with laughter and love. Sunday seemed devoted to making sure you never doubted this world, his every word a reassurance that here, you were whole and happy.

One evening, as Sunday worked quietly at his desk, a visitor shattered the peace of his dream. It was Robin, standing just inside the doorway, her expression dark with a kind of wary sadness.

“Brother, you need to stop this,” she said, folding her arms. Her gaze fixed on him, seeing through the veneer of the dream. “This isn’t right. This… this paradise you’re keeping isn’t reality.”

Sunday straightened, his face hardening at her words. “Who are we to deny people peace, Robin? Haven’t we seen enough pain? Haven’t they?” His voice broke slightly, the facade slipping as he glanced toward where you sat by the fire, unaware of the intensity in his voice. He softened, as if trying to protect the dream from any trace of discord.

“You’re keeping people trapped. Yourself included. And for what? A fantasy? Is that really what they would have wanted?” Robin’s voice grew more urgent, her frustration showing. “They’re gone. You have to accept that.”

Sunday’s fists clenched at her words, every fiber in his body resisting the truth. “How could you understand?” he whispered. “In this place, they’re alive. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m giving them peace. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Robin stared at him, her gaze a mix of pity and sorrow. “At what cost, Brother? You’re keeping yourself from moving on, holding them hostage in a world that isn’t even real.”

In an alternate version of Penacony, Sunday’s paradise faced an even stranger twist. Aventurine, the cunning Stoneheart known for his strategic mind, was on his own mission in Sweetdream Paradise, seeking information that only Sunday could provide. But as he delved into the fabric of this dreamscape, he found himself questioning the reality around him, the shimmering dream where Sunday lived an idyllic life with you.

Aventurine confronted Sunday one night, his tone half-amused, half-concerned. “Interesting setup you have here,” he remarked, eyes gleaming with curiosity as he took in the flawless surroundings. “I almost believed it myself… almost. But what happens when the dream can’t hold itself together anymore?”

Sunday’s gaze narrowed, his protective instincts flaring. “What do you mean by that?”

Aventurine shrugged, his gaze flicking to you, sitting quietly, oblivious to the tension. “Everyone in this place… it’s all too perfect, isn’t it? You’re clinging to a memory, one that doesn’t belong here.”

In a rare flash of anger, Sunday stepped forward, his eyes darkening. “This isn’t any of your concern, Aventurine. Leave.”

Aventurine met his glare, his smirk slipping. “You think you’re the only one who’s loved and lost? Reality has its flaws, Sunday. It’s messy, painful… but it’s real. This—this is just a prison you’re keeping yourself in.”

Sunday’s voice trembled, caught between anguish and fury. “Better a beautiful dream than a brutal reality.”

Aventurine’s gaze softened for a brief moment, though he couldn’t abandon his sardonic tone. “But at least in reality, they would have remembered you for who you are, not a god in a gilded cage.”

In the end, it was you—within the dream—who finally confronted him, feeling the intangible pull of memories you didn’t recognize. “Sunday… something doesn’t feel right,” you whispered one night, as he sat beside you. “I keep… remembering pieces of something different, something that feels like it wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

Sunday’s face grew pale, fear creeping into his eyes. “No, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re here. We’re together. Isn’t that enough?”

But as you searched his eyes, you could feel the truth breaking through, the dream trembling under the weight of reality. “Sunday, what are you not telling me?”

He looked away, his heart shattering as he realized he couldn’t keep you here forever. Slowly, he whispered, “I… I just wanted to keep you safe. To give us a life that didn’t end in sorrow.”

With a trembling hand, you reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “It’s okay to let go. You have to keep going… even if it means letting me go.”

Sunday’s shoulders shook, the dream beginning to unravel around them, pieces of the illusion fading as he looked into your eyes one last time. “I… I don’t know if I can.”

But in the final moments, he felt your hand slip away, leaving him alone in the vast silence of his own grief. And as he awoke from his dream, Sunday found himself in a world still plagued by loss, his heart hollow yet somehow freer. Though you were gone, he understood, at last, that he had to face reality, no matter how painful it was.

And in that pain, he found a fragile hope—a sliver of light breaking through the dark.

*cutely posts all my drafts that have been dying to see the light* 😇💖