#This was prompted by a specific thing but it is also about dozens and dozens of things

[wardensantoineandevka]

is that piece of media actually bad, or is it just not following the blueprint you projected onto it? is that work actually not good, or are you just demanding something from it that is absolutely antithetical to its themes, genre, tone, and narrative goal? is that story actually poorly written, or do you just dislike that it is not the specific things you wanted from it that it never set out to be, never was, and never is going to become? is it actually bad, or is it actually well-executed and you just dislike the story it chose to be because it isn't catering to your specific desires and expectations?

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 266

Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train. 

See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person. 

And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right! 

And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically. 

The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten. 

How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss. 

Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings. 

The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine. 

They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk! 

And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves. 

Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life? 

Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son? 

…

Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good. 

[heck-theo]

TMayNT Day 14: Favourite turtle movie.

The Rise one :P

Ok SO I disappeared because when I saw this prompt I wanted to finish this. Now to try and catch up, or at least continue TMayNT. If anyone would like to guess at themes and motifs I'd love to hear it because I remember putting a lot of thought into the initial concept ^^

More info about the creation of the video below:

So a lot of this isn't up to my personal standards BUT I'm proud of it because: I have started dozens of projects like this and almost never finished any. I am fighting my perfectionism and sporadic ADHD motivation. I believe I conceptualised this at the end of 2022 or early 2023 and reanimated/redrew the storyboard at least 3 times over the first half of 2023 before it was abandoned. Until now. Also I've never had a "camera" to play with before so I'm very inexperience with that.

It's a bit inconsistent: 1. because it was partially an experiment using Moho. It was my first time properly using it and I definitely need to look at some tutorials because I' strong armed it and made things a lot harder than I'm pretty sure I am not making the most of the features lol. Its also a vector program, which I'm not used to. 2. because I redrew the storyboard multiple times (and kept various aspects of it for the final ver) and then redrew it a final time after like a year.

So I credited those artists for popularising the meme but I actually have no idea where specifically I got the idea. I do not remember referencing any other "Is It Cold Outside" memes. I'm like 99% sure I sat down and wrote out a plan/script in word but it's possible I was inspired by or referenced someone specific and don't remember, so if anything is ringing any familiar bells please let me know.

I can't find the original sped up audio used in these memes but I believe this was the original original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KorGLK9VXcU (If anyone can tell me more info about the audio used in this meme, let me know). Storyboarded on Clip Studio, animated on Moho, minor editing on Kdenlive.

[the-kr8tor]

hey i was wondering if you could write a fic about the reader teaching Hobie how to roller skate?? It’s so oddly specific but i can imagine him just struggling with it and it’s funny to me. Plus my dream date is to teach someone how to roller skate 😭. Thank you so much. Also please remember to take breaks and rest. I lysm and appreciate all the effort you put into ever story ❤️

What a cute prompt! Thank you for requesting!! And I will!! You're too sweet ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for a mention of Hobie being tall and brief mention of clothes), cw food mention, set in Hobie's 70s dimension, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Being a part of the spider society has numerous Perks— Free therapy if you're willing to wait months for a single appointment. The cafeteria providing three meals a day to starving spider people from all walks of life, (and dimensions) not to mention the unmatched camaraderie with your fellow spiders. That alone makes all the jet lag from traveling through dozens of multiverses, and all the aches and pains that comes with being bitten by a radioactive spider. But, there is one thing that trumps all of those perks, and that's hopping to your partner's dimension for a not-so-quick date at the roller rink.

Hobie didn't take much convincing, especially after showing him your timeline appropriate outfit to him. His dimension is practically stuck in the 70s, filled with groovy psychedelic colours from the top to bottom. And of course there's the leather jackets that you've grown accustomed to just by being with Hobie. Hell, you especially love those leather pieces like the one you're wearing now. You went all out with your outfit, researching the trends back then with a splash of punk looks that had Hobie almost melting the second you stepped out of the portal. You fit in, to say the least. But after all the research and countless hours in the library just scouring for history books and life in the 70s, they don't compare actually being there and seeing it with your own eyes.

A glorious disco ball hangs in the ceiling, twinkling lights dancing around the funky, swirly and fluffy walls of the roller rink. Everywhere you look there's a burst of colours, and there's no lack of laughter ringing above iconic disco music you've heard before.

Smiling, you sit on a bench, eyes turned upwards at the sparkling lights twirling around the whole place. Hobie kneels before you, insisting to tie your rollerblades for you, citing that if it's not done well you could fall over and smash your face on the polished granite. You of course don't refuse, loving how much he dotes on you when there's no mission to rush to or a certain Spiderman breathing down his neck.

Patting your foot, Hobie calls your name above the blaring music. “How's the weather up there, lovie?”

You tilt your head, chin tucked on your clavicle, admiring how handsome he looks under disco lights with his piercings and eyes shining. “How long have you been waiting to say that to someone, huh, tall guy?”

He takes your unlaced rollerblade, pushing it in your socked foot and then propping it up on his knee. He's smiling all through it, happy to indulge you even for a quick moment without anyone to kick or web up. “Believe it or not, I've said it a few times.”

You fake a gasp, and he chuckles at your antics while he ties a ribbon. “Someone is taller than you?! I thought that was impossible!”

“You're impossible.” Hobie's hand remains on your ankle, hand rising up to cup your knee, thumb drawing circles around your tights. Leaning up, he holds your hip with his free hand, pushing you down gently to meet him halfway; which you gladly let him guide you.

Beaming, you peck his nose and the space between his brows. Earning a soft chuckle from him. “Says the one kneeling before me.”

“Which makes my comment correct.” He follows suit, kissing where your Cupid's bow lies before standing up shakily on his rollerblades. (That he hides with his nonchalance.) “C’mon, let's get this over with before I change my mind.”

Taking his helping hand, you pull yourself up, effortlessly standing on the wheels. “It's not too bad, I promise. Even little kids get it right after a few tries.”

He raises a pierced brow. “Those little kids aren't as tall as me and don't have a reputation to keep.”

You poke his side, “I've seen you backflip off of Rhino's head. Roller skates are nothing compared to that. Besides, no one you know is here to see you fall flat on your ass.”

“You won't film it like last time we went ice skatin’?” He can't help but ogle you under the light and amidst the bright colours.

Leading him towards the rink, you hold his hand, slowly inching your way inside. “I promise I won't take videos this time.” He huffs in reply as you guide him to the shiny floors. “It was for personal use anyway.” You mumble to yourself.

Hobie immediately holds onto the railings next to him the second his feet leaves the carpeted floors and onto granite. His knees are bent and shaking while he tries to keep his balance on the wheels. “Love, why'd you let go?!”

Giggling, you reach for him with open arms, rolling towards him. “I didn't! You did!”

Panic spreads through him unlike all the times he has fought countless villains as his rollerblades smack loudly on the floors as his feet skidaddles in place, struggling to even stand up. After reaching for you, your six foot three baby holds onto you like a life raft. Long arms grasping with none of the cool nonchalance he usually exhibits.

“Do you want me to get a training cart for you—?”

“No, I've got this.” Hobie straightens up, hand holding on to your jean pocket as if he wasn't whining a few seconds ago.

“Oh okay—”

“Don't let me go this time.”

“I won't, Hobs. Maybe try moving your legs?” Smiling, you roll around the rink as he uses you as his personal guide while he barely moves his stiff legs.

His eyes roam around the rink where people of all ages whizz past him without a care. He looks over to you with a new found determination. If those children who are barely five years old can skate like they own the place, he too can do it. “What do I do now?”

You don't laugh or giggle at him, instead, you help and support him throughout the lesson like you promised him when you suggested the date. Hobie picked up on the skill real quick, quicker than he did for ice skating. Maybe the music helped him, or maybe he really wanted to impress you this time instead of the ‘baby deer learning how to walk’ he exhibited earlier.

After a while he's already skating around you. A bit wobbly but his form makes up for it. Hobie thanks his spider senses and balance for not stumbling and crashing into another person.

You're all tired out after the exercise. Head placed on his shoulder, arms looped around his middle as he's the one guiding you this time while you two skate mindlessly on the shiny floors as the skating rink dies down for the night. He blows air in your ear, waking you up.

“Thank you.” Hobie affectionately pecks your brow, you hum in content. “You've got some patience in you, love.”

“Nope, you're just a fast learner. And you're welcome, thank you for indulging me.”

“You chose well.” His eyes smile, hand splayed over the small of your back. “Next time it's my turn to pick the place.”

“What do you have in mind?” Tilting away, your hand snakes up from his back to his nape, kneading softly.

“It's a secret, innit. For now,” he skids to a stop, hand still holding on to you. “you need to see some food that your dimension hasn't seen in decades.”

Your eyes widens, gasping. “So much food that shouldn't be in jell-o.” You're already unlacing your rollerblades.

[anthurak]

Okay so rewatching The Full Moon with the context of Apology Tour made me realize something VERY interesting about how Stolitz could actually be different from all the other relationships Blitzo has been in and burned down.

Consider what we hear from Verosika in Apology Tour: that she told Blitzo that she loved him, and this confession was what prompted Blitzo to completely nuke their relationship, to 'send a message in the shittiest way possible' as Versoika put it.

And you know that does actually line up with what we see in The Full Moon, ie; Stolas ALSO confessing his love for Blitzo. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if what we saw in that scene, specifically Stolas' confession and Blitzo's initial reaction to it, is how many if not most of Blitzo's breakups have played out. Certainly the really BAD ones: Blitzo's partner makes some admission or confession of genuine affection and love, only for Blitzo to believe they can't possibly be serious and proceeds to mock and belittle their feelings, just like we saw him do with Stolas.

But here's the thing: A lot of people have pointed out that Stolas handled Blitzo's response to his confession in kind of the worst way possible; immediately assuming that Blitzo really didn't care and shutting him out entirely without trying to clarify things to Blitzo or otherwise give him time to process.

So, what if Verosika and really most if not all of Blitzo's other ex's actually handled things better than Stolas? What if she/they actually DID try to explain their feelings and make it clear they really DO care?

Well, given what we've seen, it probably did NOT end well. As in, Blitzo's self-loathing and belief that no one could possibly love him are so DEEPLY ingrained and internalized that the more someone tries to convince him they really DO care has likely only caused him to double, triple, quadruple and QUINTUPLE down until he's trashing his partner's hotel room, stealing her care, maxing her credits cards and whatever else Blitzo has done to the DOZENS of people who tried to convince him that they cared.

Until Stolas.

Have you noticed the twist yet? :D

Stolas DIDN'T try to convince Blitzo he really did care. Instead, he took Blitzo's response as proof that Blitzo didn't care and proceeded to shut things down and walk away.

(Part of) What makes Stolas so different is that he unwittingly BEAT BLITZO TO THE PUNCH. He effectively nuked their relationship BEFORE Blitzo could.

And for Blitzo, this has NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.

HE'S always been the one to walk away first. HE'S always been the one to end things. Every relationship he's been in has ended on HIS terms.

Until now.

For the first time, Blitzo just happened to be with someone who is JUST as shitty at relationships as HE is XD

[five-rivers]

If you're still doing prompts, may I suggest Danny learning about the legends following his time travel (what the Romans thought was up; the Buddhists, that one kid, etc

Physics and engineering major or not, Danny still needed credits in the humanities. Comparative Mythology and Folklore was the obvious choice for that. All through high school, Sam and Jazz had been on his case about knowing so little mythology, on account of his ghostly enemies and allies sometimes being mythological figures.

(Also the constellation thing, but they didn't bring that part up all that much, funnily enough.)

At the time, Danny had figured (see what he did there?) that there wasn't much point to it. Pandora wasn't all that similar to her mythic version, Medusa didn't turn people to stone, and winged horses were, by and large, not friendly.

Recent events had made him reconsider that stance.

Anyway! The class was a "two birds, one stone" sort of deal. He got both credits and practical knowledge. Theoretically.

So far, they'd covered creation myths and etiological stories, gods and goddesses, the monolith and the hero's journey, and now, in the tiny slice of time before they had to start studying for the final, they were looking at weird minor similarities without clear causes.

"Now," said the professor, "this next one is probably my favorite, because it's so specific and so widespread. Of course, the most obvious reason for this is that it's a story that traveled, much like how the pre-Indo-European gods traveled. However, the times and locations involved make that very unlikely, at least in my opinion. The other end of the spectrum is, of course, aliens, which are even more unlikely."

There was a soft smattering of laughter throughout the large classroom. Danny started to get a bad feeling about this.

"The other strange thing about this particular similarity is that it comes out of seemingly nowhere, with regards to the larger culture. There have even been several instances of it in this century - although, given modern information infrastructure, those instances may not be entirely organic. But Imperial Rome, China, Colonial America, just to name a few… That's weirder. Any guesses about what I'm talking about?"

No one raised their hand, and after a couple of minutes, the professor used their remote control to go to the next slide of their presentation. Danny sank down in his seat as he stared up at a collage of himself in a dozen different art styles.

"All around the world, there are stories about a young man or boy with white hair and dark clothing coming from 'distant lands' to either fight off 'monsters' or to retrieve unspecified objects. As you can see, despite some of these pieces being from cultures that never had any contact with one another, the resemblance of the figures is striking. The– Yes, you have a question?"

"Will this be on the final?" asked a student a few rows down from Danny.

The professor sighed. "As a general rule, if I'm teaching you about it, I'll be testing you about it. Moving on–"

Danny forced himself to start taking notes. He couldn't believe he was going to be tested on himself. Especially when he was pretty sure he hadn't even been to all of those places yet.

Clockwork must be laughing his head off.

[sprintingowl]

Tales Of Crystals

Hey in the early 90s Hasbro put out a tabletop roleplaying larp for tween girls called Tales Of The Crystals, and there's a lot going on here, so I want to talk about it.

First, I want to give credit to @riseupcomus on twitter for doing a thread on it first. Riseup's thread is linked at the bottom, right after hasbro's pdf of Tales Of Crystals.

Now, what is Tales Of Crystals? Well, it's a journaling game. And it's an indie TTRPG. And it's a larp kit. And it's an audio game. And it's a cryptography kit.

It comes with its own map, rulebook, a cassette tape with multiple scenarios, a non-dice-based resolution system, four player roles, and a ruleset that's split up so that each of the four players is in charge of a different part.

If feels like a high concept, big swing indie title from 2024, but it's got thirty years worth of jump on the modern scene.

The basic premise is that the players are crystal bearers in the court of a fantasy kingdom, and there's an evil nation in the goblin swamp next door, and they have to guard the nation against treachery and ensorcellment and whatnot. It's not super duper fresh, but with how many things the game is juggling it's extremely reasonable that the plot's a little plain.

Each player's crystal comes with a power, and the powers are asymmetrical. The Leader gets the Crystal Of Shimmering Ice, which lets you oneshot enemies (nonlethally, by freezing them for a minute.) The Protector gets the Crystal Of True Sight, and can see through all lies and enchantments and mind control enemies for a minute (tbh this one is just better). There's a healing crystal and an invisibility crystal as well---and interestingly the invisibility crystal is given to the role responsible for journaling everybody's adventures. The game recognizes that at least one player of a fantasy larp for tween girls in the 90s is probably going to be a wallflower writer, and deliberately enshrines that role.

Tales Of Crystals has a solid core loop, with a deck of cards for prompts and a cassette tape for scenarios and a little circle with YES and NO marked on it that you can scatter your gems onto to get oracle answers to questions during play. It also has a LOT of gimmicks.

There's a tube of powder you can sprinkle on things to disenchant them. There's a mirror you need to read script that's been written backwards. There's three cryptographic cyphers at the back of the book. There's a box specifically for confining the evil Spider Crystal (after you've sprinkled it with powder to neutralize it.) This is a game of dozens of components, and it's a miracle the design is so tight that they all loop together so well.

Now, I don't have sales data (riseup might,) but I suspect maybe this thing didn't sell amazingly. It requires you to set up six or so distinct locations around your yard, pretty much needs a group of exactly four friends to play it, requires you to give clue elements to your parents---you'd have to be cool with it, your friends would have to be cool with it, your parents would have to be cool with it, and you'd have to have a big suburban yard in order to get a proper intended game experience. That said, its larp design is really stable, its gameplay is carefully thought out, and it includes a section at the start to encourage you to play safely and a section at the end to talk about your game together, journal your experiences, and to clean up the game components as a group when you're done.

This is good tech! And it even specifically recommends having a snack and relaxing afterward.

Tales Of Crystals doesn't use terms like bleed and session zero, but it's a good ways ahead of the curve on larp and ttrpg safety.

I didn't find the designer's name (they're listed as uncredit on BoardGameGeek, not mentioned in the PDF, and missing from the wiki page,) but they knocked this one out of the park. There's stuff in here that modern indie ttrpg designers could learn from---myself very much included.

So if you like ttrpgs, 90s magic, and stuff like Tamora Pierce and Sailor Moon, give riseup's original thread a look, and definitely check out the PDF link.

I'm thrilled this thing exists, and I hope more designers get to look at it.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Teens and kids with long COVID are showing surprising new symptoms - Published Aug 21, 2024

Rose Lehane Tureen is one busy teenager.

The 16-year-old is class president, an Irish step dance champion, singer, cross-country runner and straight-A student at her high school in Maine.

Her accomplishments belie the reality that she suffers from a debilitating headache that has lasted for more than four years, one of the several long COVID symptoms she's endured since an infection in March 2020.

Start the day smarter. Get all the news you need in your inbox each morning.

At the beginning of her illness, Rose went to the emergency room half a dozen times and was hospitalized twice with dizziness and blinding head pain. She also had red and swollen fingers, toes and ears; peeling skin; joint pain; problems controlling her temperature and terrible dreams.

She lost years of her life to long COVID and is trying to make up for it.

“I had to decide if I wanted to wither away on the couch in the dark or push through and do things that made me happy,” she said. "I'm reclaiming what it's taken and trying to live my life."

Rose is one of the estimated 5.8 million children in the U.S. with long COVID, many of whom have not been diagnosed because doctors, parents and patients fail to recognize the constellation of symptoms, experts say. A new study funded by the National Institutes of Health aims to arm families with information, identifying the most common long COVID symptoms in school-aged children and teenagers.

“Children aren’t just little adults,” said Dr. Melissa Stockwell, the study's coauthor and division chief of child and adolescent health at Columbia University. The more providers understand how long COVID impacts people at different ages, the easier it will be to diagnose children and provide prompt care.

Long COVID symptoms in kids, teens The study included 5,300 younger school-aged children and teens from more than 60 healthcare facilities across the U.S. between March 2022 and December 2023.

Researchers found teenagers between 12 and 17 were more likely to report fatigue, pain and changes in taste and smell, whereas, younger schoolchildren between 6 and 11 were more likely to have difficulty focusing, sleep problems and stomach issues, according to the report published Wednesday in JAMA.

Long COVID symptoms affected almost every organ system, and most patients reported symptoms that affected more than one part of their body.

In the report, younger school children and teens commonly reported back or neck pain, headaches, lightheadedness or dizziness and trouble with memory or focus. The study authors were also surprised to find that shared symptoms among the younger children included phobias, specifically the fear of crowded or enclosed spaces, and refusal to go to school.

The symptoms that showed up in younger children were less likely to overlap with symptoms experienced by adults with long COVID. The authors said this underscored the importance of age-based research.

“The symptoms that make up the research index are not the only symptoms a child may have and they’re not the most severe, but they are most predictive in determining who may have long COVID,” said Dr. Rachel Gross, the study's lead author and associate professor of pediatrics and population health at New York University Grossman School of Medicine.

Rose could have benefited from this research in 2020. It took more than a year to find doctors who would take her cluster of symptoms seriously. She eventually found that team at Boston Children's Hospital.

“I went from running a junior Olympic qualifier to being unable to walk,” Rose said. “It was dramatic and confusing.”

Missing 'whole boat' of data Despite the new research, health experts say a great deal is still unknown about long COVID.

For example, most of the data from the study comes from patients who were infected with earlier COVID-19 variants, not the latest version of omicron, said Dr. Alexandra Yonts, a pediatric infectious disease specialist and director of the post-COVID program at Children’s National Hospital in Washington, D.C.

The study suggests kids infected with omicron are less likely to develop long COVID, however, Yonts argues there isn't enough data to support that theory since omicron hasn't been on the scene long enough to allow for robust long COVID data.

"If we’re looking at kids that have been newly infected (and) what is their risk of becoming long COVID patients?" she said. "We’re missing that whole boat."

Authors of the JAMA study say their next research will be long COVID symptoms in children 5 and under. Yonts said the most urgent need for these patients is access to post-COVID clinics that specialize in identifying and treating lingering symptoms from a COVID-19 infection. She said these types of efforts are beginning to close down across the country due to a lack of funding and support.

"These are such complex patients," Yonts said. "It's hard to find a multidisciplinary team that can define those symptoms and support them."

That's why Rose, a California native, eventually moved with her family to southern Maine so they could be driving distance from Boston Children's Hospital, where she visits the long COVID clinic at least once a month. In addition to doctors at the hospital's specialized COVID clinic, she's seen nearly a dozen specialists including a sleep neurologist, acupuncturist, gastroenterologist, endocrinologist, rheumatologist and cardiologist, among others.

Rose is disheartened that post-COVID clinics are shutting down for patients like her, but not completely surprised. She sees the world moving on from the pandemic, but she's still in pain. She hopes the JAMA study brings renewed attention to the condition.

"There’s this illusion now that lockdown is over, that COVID is gone," she said. "It’s really, really difficult and invalidating for all the people with long COVID – especially children."

[ptn-imagines]

Sorry tumblr is being a butt! Anyways, if I may, I'd love to read or hear any headcanons or imagines involving reader/f!Chief with either Countess Chelsea, Hamel, Eleven, Sumire, or Garofano. Whichever one(s) inspiration strikes for you. If I could be a tad bit more specific, maybe the prompt could be something like "the ways you and the specific Sinner(s) are kind and affectionate with one another"? Could be SFW or NSFW. Sorry if this is too much, been feeling kinda down with ennui and current state of the world and all. And please, take care of yourself and write at your own pace :)

I, uh, felt inspired. To say the least. Anyway, this has made me realize that it'd probably be faster to list Sinners I can't see as autistic... Also, in hindsight, I realize you may have meant this romantically. I mean, these can be read romantically, but they can also be read platonically. I hope you enjoy either way!

The ways F!Chief and her Sinners are affectionate and kind with one another

Countess Chelsea

It's a given that she'll shower Chief in dozens of gifts. Literally dozens. Whether Chief wants it or not. You know how she is. It technically counts as an act of kindness?

Also, with all the money and influence she has, she's definitely able to get Chief invited to many exclusive opportunities. The best seats at the theater, private movie premiers, exclusive, high-society galas, you name it; Chelsea can and will get it for Chief.

Honestly, Chief does accept these invitations from time to time, because not only are they a way to get away from the strain of her work, Chelsea is able to provide a nice buffer against her usual Mania magnet tendencies. In that she can help contain any disaster that breaks out, not that she can prevent the Mania from being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Chief is pretty sure there's no Sinner that can do that.

Finally, the most lowkey way Chelsea shows affection is by letting Chief cuddle with Sitri on those days when she's tired. Sitri may be a terrifying big cat made of gemstones, but Chief has long since found that when it comes to cuddling, Sitri is a fairly nice substitute for a fluffy, domestic housecat. She also has the perk of being big enough to be able to curl around Chief, which is comforting. It's just a matter of getting comfortable, since gemstones are not the softest thing to lay against. Luckily, Chelsea is always willing to provide ridiculously ornate (but functional) blankets and pillows.

Honestly, the number one way Chief shows kindness to Chelsea is simply spending time with her. Though it's true she can be overbearing, Chief knows her heart is good, but deeply lonely; it's why she keeps asking Chief to be her sugar baby, after all. She doesn't seem to realize that Chief prefers spending time with her just for the sake of doing so.

Also, whenever Chief does wear a piece of clothing or an accessory Chelsea bought for her, you can count on the Countess being absolutely over the moon about it for the next week. Chief feels like it should be harder to make Chelsea happy, but… it's not, it's just not. The lapidarist is just too kind-hearted, too full of love and too earnest to be difficult to please, if you know her. And Chief knows her quite well.

Finally, when Chief has a spare moment, she helps Chelsea take care of Sitri sometimes. While she doesn't have the same needs as a flesh and blood cat, she still needs a form of grooming and brushing in the form of polishing, and unlike regular cats, that is a task best suited to human hands. Countess Chelsea is always diligent in this task, but nevertheless she has yet to say no when Chief offers to help, enjoying their bonding time.

Garofano

Like Countess Chelsea, Garofano has one really obvious way she shows affection to the Chief, and that is through mending and tailoring clothes. Half of the Chief's non-work clothes were handmade by the assassin.

Garofano is also really experienced with people and the human heart. If you need a shoulder to cry on but not a flat out therapist, Garofano is pretty much the go-to, and for the Chief? She's always willing to lend an ear. One time, an exhausted Chief actually passed out on Garofano during one of these sessions, and the assassin didn't move for hours, simply holding her close.

Finally… The younger Sinners in the Bureau tend to demand Chief's attention, a lot. While there's no doubt Chief would love to spend time with them around the clock, that's not feasible… So Garofano doesn't mind stepping in to corral them. Her warm, motherly vibes draw the kids in with ease, and they love spending time with her too; Chief is eternally grateful for the breaks Garofano has gotten for her.

When it comes to returning the kindness, Garofano isn't as easy to please as Countess Chelsea, but she's also far from difficult. She has a fairly mild temperament (usually), not tending towards either extreme.

Returning favors to Garofano seemed difficult to the Chief at first until she realized that Garofano was often so busy doing acts of service for others that she neglected herself. From then on, Chief did her best to help Garofano out in small ways such as assigning someone to tidy her cell when it got a little too haphazard, or bringing her meals when she got so engrossed in a project she forgets to eat. These little things go a long way with Garofano.

Most of the Garden would like to receive flowers as a gift, and the seamstress is no exception. It can be difficult knowing which flowers which assassin prefers, but Chief's got it down to a science: for Garofano, flowers symbolizing other members of the Garden (such as poppies and cherry blossoms) are best, but purple carnations, symbolizing Garofano herself, should be avoided.

Finally, Garofano's nature is that she very rarely finds herself in a position where she herself needs to vent… But she is still only human, with her own problems and feelings. When they all become too heavy of a burden for her to bear alone, she knows she can always trust Chief to take care of her.

Hamel

Hamel doesn't enjoy being touched – which makes the fact that she allows Chief to do so a gesture of deep trust and affection. Chief is always careful not to push Hamel's boundaries with this, but even on the days where this simply means being able to stand closer to Hamel than normal, Chief is grateful and honored.

Hamel is also a very withdrawn person, but she has a very vibrant and imaginative mind. While happy with her own company, it's human nature to seek companionship, and Hamel will almost always seek it from the Chief; if there's something interesting that has caught her attention, she can actually be quite excitable in conversation.

As long as it's what she truly wants to do and not being forced upon her, Hamel loves to dance on stage for an audience; however, she's a lot more hesitant about letting others see her practice. Yet, she often invites Chief to watch her rehearsals, seeking out her opinions on each movement. Chief, Hamel feels, is not only a safe and trustworthy person, but someone who can feel the emotions of her dance just as well as she herself can.

Compared to Countess Chelsea and Garofano, Hamel is probably the hardest to read and return kindness to. Still, Chief figured it out, and it was absolutely worth it to see Hamel's rare and precious smile.

First of all, Chief makes sure that Hamel can always find a stage – and an audience that'll appreciate her. While she's not against letting Hamel perform in Eastside if she feels up to it, Chief is quick to scare off anyone who might try to exploit Hamel. She respects her dance as an expression of the self, not a cash cow, and though she doesn't always have the words to express it, Hamel couldn't be more grateful.

Secondly, Chief makes a point of checking in on Hamel a lot. The dancer has an unfortunate habit of getting lost in her own mind, forgetting completely about the outside world and sitting still and quiet for hours. It's not exactly healthy for her and often leads to spikes in her M-value, so Chief always keeps an eye out for these moments so she can “wake her up” with the shackles.

Finally… It turns out, Hamel really loves stuffed animals. Chief never imagined she'd form a habit of buying sealife plushies, but here she was; besides, the noticeable brightening of Hamel's mood when receiving a new one was worth the expenditure. Hamel's bed was covered in plushies she'd received from the Chief, though her favorite was the first one she'd been given, a stuffed jellyfish. That one has a place of honor by her pillow, which it only ever leaves to be held by Hamel.

[snikt-and-chimichangas]

Discord Server Fall Event Starting 15th of September- 31st of October!!

Hey there, chimichanga lovers! This Fall Event kicks off September 15th and runs all the way through to October 31st, so you've got plenty of time to get your creative juices flowing!

We’re talking fanarts, edits, vids, fics, moodboards, cosplay—you name it. Oh, and we’ll keep you updated with cool stuff along the way, like a possible AO3 collection for all you fanfic aficionados.

Now, a quick reminder: This is just for fun! No pressure to do everything—seriously, no one’s going to send Deadpool after you if you skip a square or two (…yet). If you manage to cross off a full line of 4, you might even win something snazzy! Don’t be shy if you have questions, either. Just reach out and I’ll answer—probably with too much enthusiasm and way too many emojis.

So grab your pumpkin spice whatever, your coziest hoodie, and dive into the madness! It's gonna be fall-tastic! I'm going to share the respective bingo prompt cards (the NSFW one will be available in the ⁠spicy-writing channel! I'll also post some prompts here (I have like a dozen maybe but will update with more prompts in waves!).

[Here are 3/4 Bingo cards (the NSFW one is available in the server)] Halloween/Fall Bingo Rules:

Welcome to the Spookiest Bingo Ever! Get ready for a fang-tastic time as you dive into our Halloween/Fall bingo game. Here’s everything you need to know to join the fun!

How to Play:

Pick Your Bingo Card: Choose a bingo card from the provided list. Each card is filled with Halloween and Fall-themed word- prompts.

Complete the Activities: For each square on your card, complete the corresponding activity. This could be fanart, edits, videos, music, gifs, writing, songs, moodboards, aesthetics, cosplay, or anything else that fits the theme. Feel free to be as creative as you like!

Document Your Entries: Share your completed activities through the specified channels (e.g., social media, forum, or event page). Make sure to include a caption or description for each entry to explain how it fits the bingo prompt. (You can even add in your AO3 note a ref to the server's bingo!!)

Mark Your Card: As you complete each activity, mark off the corresponding square on your bingo card. You can use emojis or any creative method to highlight your progress.

Lines and Patterns: Aim to complete lines of 4 (horizontally, vertically, or diagonally) or any specific patterns indicated on your card. Winning and Prizes:

Partial Wins: If you achieve a line of 4 completed squares, you’re in for a treat! Share your progress, and you could win a special prize or recognition!

Full Card Wins: Complete every square on your bingo card to be in the running for our ultimate titles!

Spooky Title: For those who complete the entire Halloween card, you’ll be crowned with a “Haunted Master of Fall” title!

NSFW Cheeky Title: For a playful twist, you might also earn the title of “Frightfully Frisky Fangster” if you complete the NSFW Bingo Card! This title is for adults only and is meant to be cheeky and fun.

Additional Notes:

Participation is Optional: You’re welcome to join in and try any activities you like. It’s all about having fun, so there’s no pressure to complete everything!🧡

Creativity Counts: Feel free to interpret the prompts in your own unique way. Whether it’s a spooky song, a chilling moodboard, or a fang-tastic piece of art, your creativity is encouraged!

NSFW Content Warning: The “Frightfully Frisky Fangster” title is for adults only. To keep things respectful and safe for everyone, please skip the NSFW Bingo if you're not 18+. We’re all here to have fun, but let’s make sure we follow the rules and keep it age-appropriate. Thanks for understanding!

Updates and Announcements: We’ll keep you updated with progress and announcements. Make sure to check in regularly for new updates and to see how everyone is doing!

We also shared some fall poolverine AND X-Men themed prompts in the server, so feel free to hop in to get access to them!! If you want to join our server, please send a direct message (not an ask) and we'll provide you with an invite!!🧡🧡🧡

_ Maul from the Mod Team

[toskarin]

While it is definitely possible to manually filter out Glazed or Nightshaded photos if you're working on a small scale model, those methods were always meant to specifically target automated web scrapers. Its not gonna stop somebody from making a LORA but it will mess around with web crawlers from large companies like OpenAI.

I do understand the premise there, but even with webscraping leading to contaminated datasets, I think people underestimate just how much those larger models have developed their datasets at this point

if it makes people feel safer posting their work online, I'm not begrudging anyone for using it, but visual and written art are currently slamming head-first into a really inconvenient aspect of the digital medium

I get the sense you understand this pretty well and also that we probably agree, so all of this is less, like, an "argument" directed at you than it is a very general "turning towards the unknown reader who might be less informed"

for every dozen guys who get in people's faces to argue about their prompts that can fit in a twitter character limit (the "I'm not touching you!" of IP law), there's a couple users with 2000s visual novel usernames* quietly updating their github projects and scrolling tumblr

it's easy to notice the loudest ai guys because they've made it into a culture war thing in their heads, but the majority of developers are more normal people, and their job is to find out what's getting stuck in the wheels and make sure they keep turning

*: controlnet was literally developed by someone with the username illyasviel lol

[mekachu04]

20. Metal Trinkets

Kidd - 7 | Killer - 11

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Sometimes, Kidd is still a child

Killer doesn't understand playing pretend

He's so confused but he's trying

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Kidd had a cute chubby face that meant people didn't feel guilty giving him things, and he had been slow to grow and was still very small looking for seven. He was also quick tongue and lacked any of Killer's hesitancy when it came to demanding attention. Everything about him was loud, and he just could stand in crowded streets and adults would stop to see what he needed help with.

He'd pretend to be lost, or spin them some other fantastic story, and Killer would lift items from their bags or coin purses from pockets. And then later they'd awe at their spoils and feast like Kings. Sometimes the items could get pawned for coin; sometimes they kept them, if they were small enough. A neat watch that Kidd would break almost immediately because he tried to take it apart, a box of luxury chocolates that they gorged themselves on - too sweet and rich for them in the end - and once they even pilfered a doll that ended up being far more trouble then it was worth.

Children's toys were a complete unknown to Killer; Children's games in general were a mystery to Killer, and Kidd long declared him the absolute worst at playing pirates when he'd spend most of their game correcting Kidd on the names of the parts of their non-existent boat. "No, that would be the backstay."

"It doesn't matter!"

"… but it does?" Poor Killer just could not wrap his head around Kidd's point of view, and if Kidd had anyone else to play with he'd probably have left to do so.

But, Killer was also his best friend, and Kidd thought it important that someone teach Killer how to play. So when the doll had appeared in one of the packages they'd lifted, Kidd had wanted to keep it. The problem was, playing with just the one doll between the two of them was difficult, and trying to teach Killer how to play dolls with just the one was proving to be impossible. He'd intently watch Kidd demonstrate, but when it was his turn, Killer would freeze up, and just cradled the dainty little doll like he was afraid to break it.

Stealing a second doll had so far not worked out for them - Kidd was starting to suspect Killer wasn't trying to find them another one - so Kidd took it upon himself to make one. He'd already been making little abstract things with the scrap during slow spells or when he couldn't sleep but he didn't want to wake Killer up. Killer didn't sleep though the night very often as it was, so when he did pass out during the day, Kidd was more than happy to keep watch and let him rest. Granted, making a doll was a little harder since it needed to look like something when he was done, but Kidd was pretty proud of how it was coming along.

He'd been out looking for new pieces when he'd spotted a dozen City Men in the Heaps. They'd come by from time to time to dump their trash, but normally the only ones coming this deep were ditching a body or looking for someone. Heap-folks learned to avoid them; pretend you don't see them, they pretend they don't see you.

These men didn't seem to want to follow the script, because one pointed directly at Kidd, "That red yokel, that's one of them!"

"Killer! Run!" he'd yelled back to their hovel, taking off in the opposite direction, hoping they'd follow him instead. Kidd knew the Heaps like the back of his hand, he could run this place blindfolded if he needed too. And as long as Killer wasn't nearby, Kidd was happy to -wreck- shit up without worrying his friend getting caught in his still sporadic control over his magnetism. He could -attract- things towards him without hurting himself anymore, but -repealing- was still like firing a scattershot and he hadn't figure out at all how to aim it.

Unfortunately, only about half the men took the bait, and all Kidd could do was pray Killer had enough warning. Frustratingly, the man who'd pointed at him had not been one to follow.

Kidd was small and fast, and he new all the best paths to run along, and which were filled with tripping hazards. And alone, he was free to -pull- and -push- piles to his whims to trip up or even bury his tag-alongs.

Once he was sure he'd lost his tail, he made his way back to the last place he'd seen Killer and started looking for the older boy - only to hear cursing and swearing beckoning him toward their shelter.

"WHERE IS IT!"

Kidd stuck his head over one of the lips of trash. The leader of the group was screaming at Killer who was ignoring him completely to fight with the man who was trying to keep him in a head lock. The three of them were covering in blood splatter and the man looked like he had a child size shoe print across his face. The other four men that had stayed behind with him hadn't fared so well, bodies twitching and discarded in the rubble.

Kidd froze when he recognized the knife the man was threatening with was Killer's own blade, and its very sharp point was being waved far too close to Killer's own face.

"Where is the Duck House?!"

"I dun what that means!" Killer had gasped out when the man's free had grabs a fist full of his hair, and the other man finally got his forearm successfully under Killer's chin and against his neck.

"The Duck House!" The man screams again, and the knife is going for Killer's face, and Kidd -pulls- in a panic, the blade sinking in to the trash pile as he ducked back down to hide behind once more. The two men turned and looked in the opposite direction, reasonably believing someone shot something to disarm them. There are no devil fruit users on Kutsukku after all. Those are just Grand Line myths the Marines use to trick people.

Killer however, uses the distraction to mule kick the man holding him in the groin, and is running the moment his feet hit the ground. Kidd wants to send the knife back to him, but he's terrified to hit Killer with it by mistake.

The grunt is still huddled in on himself, and his leader screams and picks up some scrap to throw after Killer. Kidd -pushes- that off course but remains otherwise crouched and hidden. He knows that Killer knows he's nearby, and no doubt will double back, so he stays down, listening, waiting. Watching.

He watched the two men tear into their home, the makeshift walls light enough for children to put into place no match for adults as they are ripped away. He bitterly watched as their meager things get tossed aside, just more trash in these men's way.

They tear apart blankets, rip open the 'pillow' Kidd and Killer share, throw clothes aside regardless of the mud. The parts to the watch Kidd was still trying to figure out get scattered, lost forever in the scrapyard.

Killer slid down next to him, panting softly, eyes a little manic from adrenaline but hands soft and steady has he checks Kidd over for injures he doesn't have. Kidd keeps watching the City Men as they destroy everything.

Finally, they make a triumphant noise, and the leader is holding out the doll relevantly, her porcelain skin dirty from her time with Kidd but intact. The man is grumbling about the state of her dress, and Kidd and Killer shoot each other dumbfounded looks.

But this doll is apparently worth the lives of most of his crew, and they go to leave, their treasure reacquired. The leader can't help but twist his heel into one of their shirts as he walks by, grinning at the sound of ripping cloth.

All this for a doll. Killer looks pissed, and Kidd can't blame him. Two on two - they could still mess this man's day up. But Kidd is also frowning at the blood dripping from Killer's nose still and touching it seems to drain all the blood-lust out of Killer's body. He just looks forlorn.

The men are getting way, but…

Kidd climbs to the top of the heap, and holds his hands out in concentration. Everything crackles around him, but he's not -calling- for anything nearby. No… he wants something much farther away. It's hard to pick the -song- of any specific piece of metal, they all -sing- pretty close to the same frequency.

Kidd finds the right song and he -calls- for it, across the yard, a large shuttering network of pipes welded together as part of a crane at some distant point in its life. It vibrates as Kidd isolates its sound, "Attract…" he muttered, concentration on just it.

The beam starts towards them. But more importantly, it starts rolling toward the men picking their way out of the Heaps, standing just below it. Killer jerks his arms down, and Kidd looses is focus on it, but it's already moving. Rolling down the hill as more clutter follows it down.

The men don't stand a chance.

Killer is draped around him, loosely pinning Kidd's arms to his sides, both boys watching and the Heaps buries those who dared cross into Her Realm uninvited.

They'll pick over their home and see if anything is salvageable, and then they'll find somewhere else and start over. Kidd never does find all the watch pieces, the tiny parts eaten by the endless yards of trash accumulated under their feet. The doll - a Duck House Doll, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean - was destroyed along side the City Men with the trash slide, leaving Kidd with just his mostly finished doll that was meant to go with her.

He had left the unfinished project behind with the rest of their unsalvageable belongings.

A lifetime later, after Killer left him to go be a yesman for one of the City Bosses, and it was clear he wasn't coming back, Kidd had raided every cache Killer had left behind in a rage. He was angry and he just wanted to break things, and he had no more of a goal than to destroy anything the tied Killer to Kidd's turf.

Most of the caches were clothes, mostly warmer winter gear, knives, a full coin purse and usually a handful of little trinkets Kidd had made over the years. The last one Kidd would raid angry was more of the same, with one glaring exception. Inside the metal box to protect Killer's things from the elements was a well balanced dagger, it's hilt unlike the style mostly found on Kutsukku, and a flintlock pistol, polished and clean but without ammo. Both looked unused - new. The two weapons framed the last item, a long forgotten metal robot doll smiled back at him, clunky arms wrapped purposely around the drawstring coin bag with it's crudely stitched skull and crossbones.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 232

Once more thinkin of These Series of AU/Prompts, where the Class pulls a Tiamat. Becomes Giant Hydra Dragon. But with some inspiration from @radiance1's Blob King AUs. Specifically also the dragon ones.

Now, the nine of them are admittedly far older than they once were. Far older than most of the people outside the cage they were tricked into all those years before, exhaustion seeping into their bones as their ectoplasm was siphoned away.

Yet no matter how much the GIW drains away- if they're even called as such anymore- they never run out. If anything, at least from what they've noticed, unable to do much of anything else in this pit, this tank of green and red, they seem to be making more.

Their recollection of being separate, of having separate bodies have long since slipped away in exchange for keeping memories of their families and friends long gone now. Perhaps they're in the zone, as ghosts, but perhaps not.

Days feel like both seconds and years, words falling away as their Core hums as one. Sometimes a Blob ghost manages to find its way inside- the trap designed not to stop things from getting in, but to prevent them from leaving.

They always disappear whenever the ecto is taken away, not having enough to continue holding on to a physical form. But... the blobs don't stay gone. Their own ecto brings them back, tiny forms almost mimicking their own.

It's something to distract them, something to actually do besides growl at the figures beyond the barriers around them. The blobs don't speak, don't make more than squeaks, but it's something. Almost like dozens of toddlers floating around, becoming more and more draconic in shape with every siphon.

Do their captors realize, they wonder, how they've made them all stronger than they were even before? Do they realize what they've done, creating this loop of ever-growing power?

No, Star giggled, pink and gold scales shimmering as she bobbed her head in amusement, Paulina's darker purples following.

They don't know, Wes agreed, dark amusement echoed by both Sam and Dash, fangs flashing amidst the liquid. The trap would not be able to contain them for much longer, they all knew. They could feel it, how the siphon stuttered with every run.

It wouldn't be long now. They had waited three hundred years for the chance to escape- they could wait for a few days more.

...

Though they won't complain about an early prison break if those alarms are anything to go by.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 11: Animal trap, Captivity

*thousand yard stare* I have not slept much these past two nights and we’re getting to the abundance of days where I don’t have anything planned. At all.

...it’ll be fine!!!

Read on ao3

Warnings: blood & injury, note the prompts accordingly.

————————————————————

Wild was feeling pretty stupid right about now.

Or at least, he would have been, but he was a bit more preoccupied with the fact that his leg was trapped in the jaws of a metal trap, hurting more by the second, and also the fact that he’d been captured by monsters.

He let out a hiss through his teeth as his leg was jostled, hoping really, really hard that the metal wasn’t penetrating as deeply through his skin as it felt.

Of all the moronic ways to get captured...

He’d literally just been out in the woods trying to hunt some meat down for their food supplies, right out of shouting range from camp. A meaty looking boar had crossed his pat, and Wild had given chase when it bolted, getting further and further away from camp. He was right on the heels of the boar, and was just about to take out his bow when it happened.

One moment he’d been running through a pile of leaves, the next he’d fallen to the ground with a cry, pain searing into his leg, and he realized he’d walked right into an old hunter’s trap. Which was still very much operational.

Wild had only just begun to try and get it off, blood making his fingers slip, when there was a snapping of branches, and all of a sudden he was surrounded by a bunch of monsters he didn’t even recognize. He managed to fight off a few, but they soon took advantage of the fact that he couldn’t move, and captured him.

And now I’m going to miss lunch, Wild sighed to himself.

The arms pulling him along were suddenly removed, and Wild yelped as he put weight on his foot and fell to the ground, the pain he’d been trying to ignore now back in full force. He raised his head and looked around, and felt a flicker of worry at the cave he’d been brought to, flickering torchlight making it difficult to see.

But he could make out the dozens of glittering eyes all staring at him in the murk.

A monster dragged him to his feet again, and Wild couldn’t help but yell as the trap around his ankle was shaken. A few hissing laughs went up, and something suddenly pulled on the trap, sending the jaws deeper.

Wild cried out and tried to kick away whatever had grabbed him with his good leg, but nothing connected, and stars burst into his vision as the metal was tugged at again.

“Stop, I want him able to speak,” a voice hissed, and Wild was dropped to the ground again, panting against the pain in his leg. His head was abruptly yanked up by his hair, and he found himself looking into the face of an ugly lizard-like thing, beady eyes narrowed.

A face only a mother could love, he thought, curling up his nose at its rancid breath. Wait, do monsters even have mothers? Or... wait, is Ganon their mother? Er, Father? How does that work?

“You have the smell of the Vessel on you,” the lizard-thing hissed, its tongue flicking out, and Wild quickly checked back into the conversation. “Where is the one who’s blood can revive our Master?”

Wild blinked, and gave the lizard the most unimpressed look he could manage with the steel trap still around his leg.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that,” he scoffed. He honestly had no clue what they were talking about, but even if he had... feigning ignorance had gotten him out of more than one tight spot.

“The Vessel,” a different monster spoke up, more croaky then the first. “He travels with you, I have seen him.”

Wild frowned. So one of us, then. “That’s not really helpful.”

The lizard-thing let out a frustrated snarl, and grabbed his face, claws digging in to his skin.

“You lie,” it hissed, tail lashing. “You cannot be this stupid.” Can too. “Where is the Hero who’s blood can bring back Ganon?”

Wild froze at the name, mind stalling. One of us’s blood can bring back the calamity?!

He blinked at the monster, and frantically went through all of the heroes in his head, wondering which of them it could be.

Not Twi, he would have said something, and these aren’t his monsters. The old man maybe, but same with him on the monster thing, and Warriors too, I know these aren’t his. Wind would’ve brought it up, Four barely knows who Ganon is, same with Sky, so that leaves...

Hyrule or Legend?

“Look, I’ve never heard of blood bringing back anyone,” Wild said, trying to keep his thoughts off his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, so why don’t you just... let me go?”

That made all the monsters laugh, and Wild felt the claws in his chin and hair sink in further.

“Foolish hero. You should have told us what we wanted to know immediately,” a different monster snarled, but the first waved it back when it approached.

“You are not the Vessel, but perhaps you have... other uses,” the first monster said thoughtfully, and Wild felt something cold drop into his stomach. “Take him away until he is willing to talk.”

“But I don’t know anything!” Wild shouted, then cried out as his leg was sharply jostled.

Pain exploded up his leg again, and all he could focus on for a moment was the monsters laughing at him, then the cold scrape of the floor as he was dragged away.

(...)

Wild woke up to a pounding in his head, and agony in his leg.

Sweat trickled down his brow as he dragged his eyes open, and he looked around blearily at the dark cell they’d dropped him into earlier. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have since he was waking up...

There was something crusty on his hands, and he flicked his eyes down at them, catching sight of dried blood on his fingertips.

Oh. Right.

Wild exhaled, his head pounding. He’d been dumped in the part of the cave the monsters had turned into some kind of cell, and immediately started trying to get the trap off his foot again, but his hand had slipped...

His leg throbbed, and Wild groaned. He must have knocked himself out.

...How long had he been in here?

His stomach let out a growl, and Wild closed his eyes again, pain throbbing through his entire body. Why did these things always happen to him? He should have been watching where he was going, should’ve realized there were monsters nearby, shouldn’t have gone off alone.

But no. He’d gone and gotten himself injured and dragged away by monsters who wanted blood or something, and his leg hurt so much he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to escape if he got a chance.

He hoped Hyrule and Legend were staying away at least.

At least if I’m here, it means they haven’t gotten whoever’s blood it is that brings back Ganon.

Wild tried to shift himself a little, and gasped, trying not to be sick at the feel of the metal still crushing his leg. He fell still, and couldn’t hold back a whimper, dried blood making the floor feel even colder under his body.

He just hoped somebody was coming for him.

(...)

When Wild woke up again, it was to monsters prodding him to his feet, a choked gasp escaping his lips as his leg was moved.

Based on the empty feeling in his stomach, he guessed it had been somewhere around a day since they’d first thrown him in, and he shivered, his body trembling with pain and blood loss. The monsters dragged him out of his cell and down through several tunnels, bringing him to the same cave room as earlier.

They propped him up, and Wild watched dizzily as the same lizard-monster from yesterday approached, snout twitching at the smell of his blood.

“Now that you’ve had some time to think, tell us: where is the Vessel?” it hissed.

Wild took a steadying breath, his mind flashing towards Hyrule and Legend, and looked the monster in the eye.

“I have no idea.”

Clawed fingers smacked him across the face, and Wild reeled back, as much as he was able to.

“You do know, you merely refuse to speak,” the monster snarled, and the beasts holding Wild threw him onto his back, Wild just barely holding back a scream as his leg smacked the ground.

The monsters pinned him as he reeled, stretching his limbs out. Once Wild could focus again, he tried to free his arms, able to move those without too much pain, but the monsters grip was tight. A clawed foot suddenly rested on top of his trapped leg, and Wild froze, heart thudding as he watched the monster slowly raise its foot.

Then it slammed it back down on top of it, and Wild’s vision went white.

There was a distant scream in his ears, and Wild eventually focused through the pain enough to realize that it had been his own, his cry petering off into a stuttering sob. His leg felt like it had been nearly sliced in two, and Wild closed his eyes, trembling as another wave of agony crashed over him. Something was trickling down his cheek as he tried not to wail, though he wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears.

Maybe blood. His face did sting quite a bit.

Something sharp was pressed to his throat, and Wild just barely managed to raise his head, looking at the monster holding the spear to his neck.

“Perhaps our Master would be appeased by the blood of any Hero,” the monster mused, giving him a poke. “And if not... well, at least we’ll have one less obstacle in our way.”

Wild could only watch, shaking and dizzy, as it raised the spear up to run him through.

“NO!”

The spear went flying as a howl rang through the cave, and Wild closed his eyes as there was a bright flash of light. The monsters holding him down suddenly released him, but before Wild could do anything, something kicked his leg.

He screamed again in spite of himself, the agony increasing, lava pouring into his ankle and searing up his entire leg. His mind flashed back to being shot by the guardians, burns ripping across him, tearing him apart.

Something cool gently grabbed his face, but Wild barely realized it, drowning in pain. He wanted it to end, he wanted it to end he wanted it to end—

The cool thing at his face patted his cheek again, trying to get him to open his eyes, and Wild forced them open, colors smearing around above him. They eventually organized themselves into something resembling shapes, green and red and brown.

“Hh...” he stuttered, and the cool hand brushed over his forehead.

“Hold on Champion, we have to get it out. You’ll be okay.”

Wild heard what sounded like a countdown, and then pain, another scream ripped from his throat, things shifting in his leg and hands grabbing and holding him down. Wild thrashed madly to be free of them, giving up on trying to stop the pain and holding still and just wanting to get away.

Something sparkled in his blurred vision, and all of a sudden a soothing feeling began to work through his ankle. It was cool and warm, soft and prickly as it swept through his leg, and Wild abruptly fell limp, still trembling as the pain slowly eased.

“There you go, you’re okay,” the same voice said, and Wild could finally pinpoint it as Twilight’s, a hand brushing through his hair. “Take it easy, Link. We got you.”

Wild forced his eyes open again, looking up at the heads surrounding him.

“W... wanted... b-blood,” he breathed, and the red blur and the green and brown blur exchanged looks.

“We know Wild, it’s okay. We beat all of them, they didn’t get anyone’s blood,” a different voice, Hyrule maybe? said, and Wild closed his eyes again, too drained to reply.

Good.

Somebody gingerly pulled him towards themselves, and Wild stiffened as he was lifted up, then settled onto somebody’s back, multiple hands making sure his leg wasn’t jostled as he was moved.

His head fell onto something soft, and Wild relaxed into it, a faint musk of animals drifting into his nose.

“I’m so sorry this happened Wild,” a voice at his side murmured, wracked with guilt. Wild cracked his eyes open to see Hyrule standing beside him, watching him with a grieved look, and he blinked.

Ah. So that’s who’s blood they’d wanted.

Hyrule opened his mouth again, but then Wild leaned over, just enough to touch their foreheads together. Hyrule stared, and Wild twitched his lips up into a smile.

“Kept you safe,” he breathed.

He felt a hand squeeze his, and then Wild relaxed, letting himself rest as Twilight carried him out of the cave and into the sunshine.

[shtetlshabbos]

shalom, and welcome to the shtetl shabbos tumblr blog!

shtetl shabbos is a new community and jewish only discord server dedicated to jewish magic, mysticism, witchery, mythology, folklore and more! with many plans and much to offer, we hope to connect with the tumblr jewish community as well!

disboard link (pls leave us a review!): ✡︎ | discord server direct link: ✡︎

we offer:

♡ a verification system to ensure maximum safety of all members ♡ a server guide featuring a faq, a pdf exchange spreadsheet and a constantly growing library of jewish resources ♡ a safe-space chat to discuss mental health, antisemtism and the likes ♡ a weekly book club and parsha study group + monthly zine and research prompt ♡ chats specifically for bipoc jews, lgbtq+ jews, disabled/nurodivergent jews, alterhuman jews, jewish systems, and converts! ♡ a variety channels to start new and exciting conversations ♡ polls, qotd, chat revival, astrology ping, starboard, vcs, events, mutual aid channel and more!!

quick FAQ under the cut!

FAQ

Q: what is a jewitch/jewish witchcraft?

A: considering there is an expanse of ideas on both what being jewish and what practicing witchcraft/magic means, there is no one definition to describe jewitches or jewish witchcraft. for the sake of this server, we define “jewish witchcraft” as any practice that involves the magic, mystical, supernatural or spiritual within a jewish framework and a “jewitch” as anyone who considers themselves a practitioner of judaism and witchcraft/magic. Q: how can you be a jewitch or practice magic/witchcraft as a jew?

A: the answer to this question is complex and depends on who you ask. respectful conversation surrounding this topic is welcomed within the server. we recommend the following article by the creator jewitches as a primer for this question.

Q: who can join?

A: any jew, self-identified jewitch or not! our server is pluralistic and we welcome people from all movements, minhags, and backgrounds. we appreciate having diverse perspectives. we are explicitly a safe space for gers, disabled & neurodivergent jews, lgbtq+ jews, bipoc jews and jewish systems. bigotry, hatred and infighting will not be tolerated. messianic "jews" are not welcomed here.

Q: can i join if i'm curious about or new to jewish magic?

A: yes! infact, once you are verified, we have a resource forum channel where we are constantly working to update it with new and improved resources all the time! we also have a dozen channels and other things to explore different topics within both judaism and witchcraft.

Q: can i join if i'm a ger/convert/conversion student?

A: yes! converts are fully jewish and welcome to practice jewish practices. conversion students are welcomed to join, however we want to make it explicitly clear that gers-in-progress should not practice jewish magic/mystycism/witchcraft without supervision and approval from a rabbi. we are happy to educate and provide our perspective but we cannot preform the job of a rabbi.