#prompt trade

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 191

So. Apparently immortality does in fact exist. And is apparently very easily accidentally achieved, if the fact an entire city has it now. 

The GIW will be waiting a very long time to be able to drop that ghost shield, because the city doesn’t seem to be dying out anytime soon. Or at all actually. It’s been several generations now. 

They might need to request assistance. Maybe before others start to investigate now that vigilantes are becoming a semi-common thing.

[artiststarme]

Eddie is completely and utterly broke after his run-in with Hell. The plant is destroyed so Wayne doesn’t have a job, half the town is a shell of its former normalcy, and the places that remain would rather burn than hire one of the “murderin’ Munsons”.

He finally comes up with a plan but even that is shut down with some panicked glances, attitude, and sassy hip-holding on Steve’s behalf.

“Absolutely not, Munson! I will not let you sell any of your organs. What the hell? Why do I even have to say that?!”

“Steve, you only need one kidney and the spleen is basically an accessory organ. It’ll be fine and then we’ll be rich.”

“No! No means no, you deranged weirdo. No organ selling!”

As a plan B, he starts playing shows again with Corroded Coffin just outside of town and luck allows them to be put on a record’s radar. He becomes the frontman of one of the world’s largest metal bands, Steve becomes a novelist with him on the road, and Robin comes along as an ASL interpreter for his shows.

And he maintains ownership of all of his organs (though he keeps the option open for a rainy day).

[thefanficcup]

DC/DP Constantine Bingo

When Danny gets crowned High King he gets loaded with mountains of paperwork all because of one John Constantine. So instead of dealing with it he turns Constantine's sold soul pieces into a currency for favors from the King. (Claming John's soul for himself to end all debates)

Then because Constantine will likely continue to sell his soul carelessly Danny makes an official decree that anyone who wants can create a 5 by 5 grid of beings/situations/etc. John will se his soul to and send it to Clockwork to officially enter the bingo, creating a realms wide bingo with prices. Along with this comes a ruling that of John comes to you and wish to sell his soul in return for a favor that you can do, you must accept, preventing people from cheating.

~~~

This of course makes John very paranoid. It suddenly got very easy to trade his soul and many beings even seemed eager to do it. Despite them knowing it would not give them the ownership of his soul.

~~~

What happens when Danny receives an update on the bingo, in the form of a green postit-note, in the middle of a dinner at Wayne manor.

It could either be a meet your partners family dinner or a adopted danny dinner.

Anyway now he either has to come clean about being a ghost, the ghost king, or make up a story about befriending ghosts and getting invited to the bingo that way.

Bonus points if Danny name dropps Constantine without knowing that the Wayne's are the bats and that John had shared his paranoia with his coworkers.

~~~

I am not a writer but if you like this and want to write it your self, be my guest, just tag me so I can read it👻👻

[jordanstrophe]

During a trade, how do you imagine whumper handing whumpee over?

I like to imagine whumper has a henchman take whumpee to caretakers side, as the henchman is trembling having to walk towards a seething caretaker.

Especially if whumpee can't walk and they're dragging them. 

[iizuumi]

Did a fun little art trade with @bluevelvetea and got to draw NaruKaf for her ♥

[hazelkjt]

Auraugust Day 3: "Trade"

Yeah I got nothing better for this one...so have a dumb meme

Auraugust Prompt List

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024 | Steddie Microfic

July 7th prompt: Free Space - Mystery, Hands, Long, Trade, Exes to Lovers or Getting Back Together, Drunken Confession (aka I combined all the prompts I didn’t use this week) | July prompt: one

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6

Word count: 1,111

No warnings apply

Rated T

@steddie-week | @steddiemicrofic

It was never a mystery, to Steve, how they got together. How they worked together.

The only mystery is how he managed to let him go—to lose him in a way Steve hadn’t understood until Eddie. Because Nancy was great, she was fantastic, Steve was in love. He doesn’t doubt that. But it never felt like it did with Eddie: low lights in the club, hands on each other’s bodies, open-mouth kisses that really was nothing more than them panting into each other’s mouths—

Stumbling into the bathroom, or into either of their bedrooms, hands in hair and under shirts and unbuckling belts—

Sleepy, slow morning kisses. Breakfast. Holidays.

How did it end?

Steve thinks, remembers fists clenched at sides, red faces, stiff shoulders.

Remembers shouted words, cold shoulders, slammed doors.

Remembers the key left on the kitchen counter.

That had done it, he remembers, he had called Robin, already sobbing, and she was on her bike and halfway there practically before she had hung up the phone. She’d held him as he fell apart on the kitchen tiles.

Then again, when he went to go to bed. Saw the two pillows. Threw one off; it hit the wall, slid down. Had to change the sheets; they smelled too much like him.

It took him a long time—a really long time—to get to the point he’d be okay on his own for more than a couple hours, to the point he could go out to clubs again. Not the same ones he’d gone to, never those, but… he moved on. Kind of.

He knew, and Robin knew, that part of him, at least, would always love Eddie.

It’s why when they’re in a club—a new one they had just found, okay music but better drinks and prospects—and Steve grabs her arm, she looks the direction he is.

He feels like he’s swallowing sandpaper. “His hair is longer.”

“It is.” She pries his fingers off, just so he’s not bruising her anymore, but holds his hand. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters, watches the way Eddie prowls through the crowd, smirking at people, but still definitely on his way to the bar.

The bar. “I’m gonna get us more drinks,” he says. They both ignore the fact that they’ve barely touched their current glasses.

“Let me know if you need backup.”

“Will do.” He looks at her, for the first time since seeing him, and smiles. “Love you, Robbie.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Love you, dingus. Go get your man back.”

Steve makes it to the bar before Eddie, asks for whatever is on tap. Looks away at the wall. Can’t watch him walk up. 

“Long Island,” he hears directly beside him, and turns to see Eddie turning to see Steve.

He takes a breath. “Eddie.”

Eddie looks… he looks good, because he always does, but he looks tired, maybe a little thinner. Not… not good, not happy like he was. He swallows. “Steve.”

The bartender hands over their drinks, and Steve takes a sip only to cough. “Sorry, fuck,” he mutters, finally looking at the glass in his hand. He’s got the Long Island, and Eddie’s got his beer.

Eddie’s watching him with an interesting little smile. “Trade?”

“Trade,” Steve agrees, nodding. He coughs again. “God, how do you like that?”

Eddie snickers, pulls a lock of hair over his face. Steve wishes he wouldn’t.

Miraculously, they keep talking. They’re never searching for the next word to make the silence go away because there is no silence.

Eventually Robin comes up to him, pulls him into a hug. “Imma go home with that girl,” she murmurs, pointing behind her. A cute, preppy-looking blonde smiles nervously at Steve. He smiles at her, then back to Robin. “Of course. Call the house, give me the address.” He kisses her forehead. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will,” she grins, then turns to look at Eddie, eyes narrowed.

Eddie gulps. She grins, scary as anything, and whispers something in his ear that has him paling. “Yuh-yep. Yeah. Got it. Thanks Robin.”

Steve grimaces when she walks away. “What did she say?”

Eddie looks at him for a long minute. “Something I’ve known for a while now,” he eventually murmurs. 

It was inevitable, really, that they would end up back here, hands in hair and under shirts, stumbling into Steve’s apartment, panting into each other’s mouths, trying to undo buckles by memory because the worst thing in the world right now would be to stop kissing.

“God, Steve,” Eddie gasps, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon- c’mon, please, need you, need you-”

“Yeah,” Steve answers against his mouth, just as affected. He’s got his own pants halfway off, thinking about his shirt next, thinking about the lube in the drawer that hasn’t gotten as much action as it used to, and suddenly he aches for it. “Need you inside me,” he mutters, kissing down Eddie’s neck, stopping at a place behind his ear that he knows from experience makes Eddie’s knees weak.

“Fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon, c’mon baby, lemme in you- lube’s in the drawer?”

Steve opens the drawer in answer, roots around until his fingers close on the bottle. Pushes it into Eddie’s hand, pushes him away so Steve can get naked.

Eddie’s eyes rake along his body. He drops his own pants just as fast, limbs flying as he strips out of his shirt too, clambering onto the bed beside Steve’s hip, eyes wide and fingers shaking as he lubes up.

It’s after, when everything’s cooling and drying and becoming itchy, that Eddie’s breath wobbles. “I shouldn’t,” he mutters into Steve’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t say anything. But hell if I don’t miss you like crazy.”

Steve closes his eyes, tries to keep the tears at bay. “You’re drunk.”

“I had less than one drink.”

The tears win. “We broke up for a reason,” he whispers. “Didn’t we?”

“I was scared,” Eddie says.

“And you’re not now?”

“Only of losing you.”

Steve sobs, can’t help it, but he feels Eddie’s hot tears on his neck, too, and that somehow makes it better.

It’s the next morning, after slow, sleepy kisses and breakfast, that Steve sighs. “I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t think I can, either.”

Steve slowly turns to look at him. “So what does that make us?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is it makes me yours.”

“Yours,” Steve parrots, daring to curl his fingers over Eddie’s, breath hitching when he holds on just as tight. “That sounds pretty damn good to me.”

[lethologicaee]

well this is quite out of character. but i felt compelled

print

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.�� The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[finemeal]

DP x DC Prompt #1

You know that scene from HTTYD2? “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” I’ll link it below. Imagine that audio with this prompt:

Bruce remembers Danny fondly. Danny was one of the people that never betrayed him as they trained together after all. But in the end, Bruce failed him. Danny died, and Bruce was left to finish his training without him. When he finally donned Batman, it wasn’t just his parents that motivated him anymore.

That’s why it’s such a shock when, years later, there’s a meta in Gotham. A meta named Phantom, who looks awfully familiar.

(Please @ me if you use this cuz I know y’all are great writers so I’ll wanna read it)

Video: https://youtu.be/ZhKJ8C1Yc_4?si=vKxSHsXDjSoBp6gG

[tikurt]

A little design trade I’ve done with a friend !!

Prompt was do to a swamp kind of guy so here he is :)

Plus a little process of it just for you guys 😔🤚

[phoenixyfriend]

Ko-Fi prompt from Anonymous Supporter:

For the Econ Topic, an analysis on a society that has magic and fantasy races would be nice. Or maybe how a guild of Thieves or Assassins would work in either real life, fantasy or sci-fi setting.

The former is far too varied and complicated a topic to fit into 500 words, but I can definitely make the latter work... by explaining what the fuck a guild is.

These days, the words guild and union are used more or less interchangeably, and they do admittedly have some overlap in modern capitalist society. In the historic Europe that many of these settings are inspired by, the word guild had a more specific meaning.

Let's unpack some of what the economic structure is in these settings.

Large, overarching companies engaging in multinational work are rare in those historic settings. You have some trading/merchant organizations (e.g. the Dutch East India Company) that fit that bill, work that couldn't be performed without a large, existing structure to back it (e.g. mining), and domestic agricultural lordship (you know, feudalism).

For the rest of the economy, though, you have small businesses. Technology isn't at such a point that something bigger can be done. Factories aren't a thing until the industrial revolution, but we do have division of labor, so there are people who specialize in baking, or weaving, or shoemaking, or pottery.

Many of these professions require years of training, from apprenticeship to journeyperson to mastery. Trade secrets are a big deal, you marry off your daughter to your apprentice to secure the line and prevent competition, and you try not to give up those secrets because if you do, what's to keep your lord and other rich folk from taking advantage of you, and paying you less than your worth?

That's where the guild comes in.

No matter how good you are at keeping secrets, the competition does exist. You cannot be the only baker, dressmaker, shoemaker, bricklayer, carpenter in town, unless your town is very small indeed.

Price competition isn't a great idea when profit margins are already low, and you are a small business that doesn't have the diversification or coffers to take the hit for a few weeks. If your lord tries to force you to sell low, you can't just refuse him! He's the one that pays whoever uses the swords!

If only you and all the other trained professionals in your industry could hold together and tell him, "Yeah, that's as low as the price can go. You are paying for the bare minimum of materials and labor with that. So sorry, can't go lower without taking an actual loss, and everyone else will tell you the same thing."

Joining a guild was often the only way to perform that craft or service in a given city. This prevented untrained, untested individuals from trying to peddle something that wasn't up to standard, but also acted as a form of gatekeeping that could prevent the market from becoming oversaturated with competition. The formation of a guild was often related to, or even reliant on, approval from local government or a monarch.

Guilds did absolutely have negative impacts, by the way, often through market manipulation and rent-seeking behaviors. They stifled innovation, gatekept skills, and were capable of price-gouging and price-fixing beyond the basic "this is how we keep from getting screwed over by the rich guys." While the guilds themselves were arguably intended to ensure minimum standards and protect against wealthy clientele, they were just as prone to stagnation and greed as any organization.

The guild differs from the unions in that the guild is for trained professionals that, by and large, own their business to some degree. The unions, meanwhile, are for laborers who work for someone else, and formalized labor unions only began in the mid-18th century, while trade guilds, or something like them, date back over four thousand years.

Remember how I said that factories as we know them, and that whole Big International Company format, didn't really start being a thing until the Industrial Revolution? You know how the Industrial Revolution started in the mid-18th century?

We now see the connection.

So, what does a guild of thieves or assassins mean, at its core?

Well, they have to be doing this professionally. Someone who's just killing for the fun of it isn't a professional assassin, being paid by other people for it, just like how the baker's guild isn't going to care overly much for the farmer's wife making her own bread for dinner. Thievery is a bit less obvious in terms of 'what counts as professional.' Does the person who picks pockets to pay their rent qualify as professional? Or just the ones who steal on behalf of someone else? What about burglars?

So part of what you'd need to untangle is what qualifies as professional for the thieves themselves.

Then, given that these are generally illegal acts in the first place, what purpose does the guild serve? Is the guild supported by the crown as a form of control over theft and assassination in the first place, like privateering? Does the guild institute rules on who can be stolen from, whether or not it's within guild rules to kill individuals of certain ages or genders or classes? What punishments does the guild implement on those who violate those rules?

If the crown allows the assassin's guild so long as members of the royal family are not targeted, is there a rule that any client who requests the assassination of a monarch must be reported, or killed on the spot? What government fees does the guild have to pay in order to exist? If they exist as an underground, unofficial group that is not affiliated with the government, how do they deal with the government? How do they hide? Do they dictate pricing? Do they pay off cops to stay under the radar? How do they advertise their services without getting found out?

For the thieves guild, it's even more wiggly. Who qualifies as a professional? Is it the pickpockets, the cat burglars, the people who climb into dragon's caves to locate ancient treasure and get out unseen? Is there a minimum yearly income threshold? How is that calculated? What about membership fees? Is membership singular, or can it be done as a couple, a team, a family? Are there groups that are off limits? Maybe there are two thieves guilds, one for those who can be Hired By Adventurers, acknowledged by the crown, and a second for those who work in the seedy underground away from official oversight.

There really is no one way for this to play out, and will probably vary from town to town or planet to planet in-story, but hopefully I've given you the framework to build up the various guilds you need for your story!

(Prompt me on ko-fi!)

[pwh3]

Sundown in the City.

[pekodayz]

i forgot to share these😅😅😅😅😅😅😅😅😅😅. from last year (yes i am a genius). first one is a comm from jean and second was an art trade with ghost

[jordanstrophe]

Caretaker and whumpee are trading with whumper. It was just one item for another, but whumper can't seem to take their eyes off whumpee.

Suddenly whumper deems the trade unfair and wants them to throw in a little something extra: Whumpee.

[ifindus]

cw: gore

"Division of territories", day 16 of @propagandistisk's hetalia goretober 2023 ✨

This is of course a reference to the wars between Scandi bros in the 1600s; more specifically the outcome of the wars predating the Treaty of Roskilde in 1658. The Treaty of Roskilde saw the entirety of Trøndelag (central Norway) given up to Sweden, and the region would be Swedish for two years until Trøndelag became Norwegian again in 1660 after another treaty. The treatment of trøndere during these two years has been referred to as the genocide of Trøndelag by local historians due to the large prescription of trøndish men to the Swedish army. It almost emptied the region of men overall and the large farmland region suffered greatly as many of the men were already overseas and fighting in the Danish-Norwegian army. The trøndish men in the Swedish army were then sent abroad to fight wars as the Swedish King was afraid they would rebel if left close to home. Only one third of the men would return to their homes, which by then would be plagued by famine.

The Swedes wanted Trøndelag because then they would effectively divide Norway into two parts, separated at the middle, and easier to attack in the future.