#prompt: compass

[serickswrites]

Compass

Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, hunting, sadistic whumper

Whumpee trembled in the back of the truck. They had tried to slip the cuffs around their wrists for the last half hour as Whumper drove deeper and deeper into the woods, but it had been to no avail. They were stuck going to wherever Whumper wanted them to go, doing whatever Whumper wanted them to do. 

The truck suddenly stopped and Whumpee slammed into the rear window. Whumper chuckled as they climbed out. “Whoops, was a little eager to start our fun early.”

“Please,” Whumpee panted as the world spun around them, “let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Please,” they begged. 

Whumper grabbed Whumpee by the back of their neck suddenly. Their grip was hard and bruising as they began to fiddle with the cuffs on Whumpee’s wrists. As Whumpee struggled, Whumper squeezed tighter and tighter until Whumpee squealed with pain. 

“Quit it, will you? I’m trying to get these off you!” Whumper growled. 

The cuffs suddenly dropped from Whumpee’s wrists. Whumpee pulled their bruised wrists to their chest, their sudden freedom no longer welcomed. Before Whumpee could say anything, Whumper grabbed Whumpee’s right wrist and pulled. 

“Open your hand,” they ordered. 

Whumpee complied lest Whumper break their wrist. “I don’t understand. I--”

“You’re going to need this,” Whumper cut Whumpee off gruffly as they dropped a small compass in their hand. 

“I don’t understand. Please, let me go.”

Whumper smiled as they stared down at Whumpee. “I am.”

“Thank you, thank you,” the words tumbled from Whumpee’s mouth. They could not believe how lucky they were in this moment. 

“You have an hour, Whumpee. I’m letting you go for an hour before I go after you. You escape in that hour, that’s your freedom.” Whumper smiled pleasantly. “However, if at the end of the hour you’re still here,” Whumper’s eyes grew dark, “then I will find you. And I will hunt you down like the animal you are.”

“Please! I won’t tell anyone, I swear!” Whumpee had no idea where they were. Or even what direction safety was. How were they going to get out of there?

Whumper checked their watch. “You have fifty-eight minutes now. I’d get running if I were you. The closest town is about twenty miles due south. You make it there, you’re safe, Whumpee. Run, run for your life.”

Whumpee scrambled from the truck bed and started running. They had no idea where south was. And they had no idea how long it would take them to go twenty miles. But they had to get out of there. Had to before Whumper hunted them down. 

[goldengirlgalaxy]

An Assassin Child and His Ghost Sword

For whatever reason, Danny has become a magical sword and been thrown through time and space, eventually landing in a completely different world far in the past.

In all honesty, being a magic sword isn't the worst thing ever, to the point he's basically using it as an extended vacation. Whenever he's alone he sleeps, whenever he has a wielder, he gives them advice and extra abilities and the like. If he gets bored in one area, he's able to move himself to another.

However, Danny ended up screwing up somewhere down the line. See, he has the ability to only work for those who are 'worthy' (basically a catch all term for the people Danny likes or can at the very least be civil with). If someone 'unworthy' picks him up, he'll curse them.

Unfortunately, after a long string of unworthy people, everyone now believes Danny is solely a cursed blade, his ability to bless others forgotten when he finally goes down in the history books.

Then when Danny finally come to the modern age, he ends up being found by one Damian Al Ghul.

Damian is all by himself for one reason or another (running from the League, disagreement with the Bats, etc.) when he finds Danny. And frankly, what kid wouldn't want a magical, talking sword that grants incredible powers, especially when you've been trained in how to actually wield them. He doesn't really have a plan, so he decides to just travel around trying to find a place he belongs.

Danny likes the kid and decides to look after him since he's all by himself. He helps the kid travel around the world, teaches him how the world works, helps him with any moral issues that being raised by assassins brings, etc.

Meanwhile, the rest of the world is wondering who this small, wandering child with the sword is.

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #88

Superman didn’t know how to handle having a clone. He was fighting the urge to get close to Kon, guide him in a way no one had been able to Clark, with feeling violated every time he saw the boy. He didn’t want to hate Kon, but he didn’t know how to balance his own emotions. 

When Clark admits this to Batman, he suggests someone who can help: Phantom. Dani Phantom.

[greenglowinspooks]

Liminal Scarecrow

I see a lot of Scarecrow in DCxDP, usually as a plot device in tandem with his fear gas. And honestly, I’ll accept just about anything with a Scarecrow mention in it. However, there is one thing I doubt a lot of DCxDP fans know about from the DP side, which is the Scarebeast.

The Scarebeast is what was created when the Penguin decided to experiment on Scarecrow, essentially turning him into a living weapon.

It’s a giant monster that naturally produces fear gas in its body, and Scarecrow can only return to human form once the Scarebeast has been defeated.

I think that the Scarecrow could easily be a liminal of some sort, and the Scarebeast could be a manifestation of ghostly power.

Now, it should be noted that Scarecrow (to my knowledge) hasn’t died and been revived. He also hasn’t used the Lazarus pits. He gets beaten to hell and back on a regular basis, but he never actually dies.

However, we know that you don’t necessarily have to die to become a halfa. Vlad didn’t; instead, he was shot in the face with ectoplasmic energy by the malfunctioning proto-portal.

Also, we were never told exactly how the Scarebeast was created. Sure, we know that one of the Penguin’s scientists mutated him into existence, but we don’t know exactly what she used.

It’s not really so much of a stretch to think that he could have been exposed to some form of ectoplasm in order to stabilize or power his monstrous form, and as such became liminal (or a halfa).

Hell, all the other (canon) halfas in existence were created in a lab setting! Danny was mutated by ectoplasm and electricity when the portal opened, Vlad was blasted in the face by the previous portal, and Dani/Ellie was a clone.

Basically, give Scarecrow cool ghost privileges. He’s already got the creepy aesthetic. It’s what he deserves.

[princess-of-morkva]

genuinely need a dark-ish!morgwen fic where morgana decides to trust gwen a little more and tries to win her over to her side, the topic of gwen's father's unjust death by magic laws is explored and gwen gets to actually see the process of morgana's change and go through it with her. where maybe not at first, but gradually gwen begins to feel torn between her loyalty to camelot and arthur and her compassion for morgana and all who are unjustly persecuted and her personal resentment for uther she tried her best to bury deep down. where morgana takes over the crown in s3 finale and gwen understands why. but she also sees how morgana's judgement is clouded by her anger and resentment for uther and how she begins to blame all of camelot for the faults of it's king and gwen tries to make her see sense. and maybe morgana handles it all a little bit better and the shooting at townspeople doesn't occur. and when morgana is gone gwen misses her more than she resents her, because for all of her faults, deep down, gwen understands. and she sees how morgana's actions steer from reason and feel more like a cornered animal lashing out than some evil masterplan. and when they meet again, a swords crossed, neither has it in them to truly land a strike. and gwen knows that morgana is injured, and her army scattered, and she probably laying somewhere bleeding all by herself and she knows she changed, and this is not the same morgana she knew, and still she can't simply let it go. she goes into the woods at night, and she finds morgana there, weak and unconscious and in the moment she doesn't seem like a dangerous sorceress but a girl who used to cringe in her sleep and wake at night crying from terror and whom gwen used to hold tightly for hours, sweet whispered words and kisses to her hair and in that instant gwen knows. that she is going to stay with her and care for her because nobody else will. because she needs morgana back, and she may not be the same as she knew, but deep down, it's her.

[chiropteracupola]

God, will my family know, will I wash ashore / Discovered by a fisherman returning with the tide / Or will I disappear for good below like all those before / Another lost sailor in a cautionary tale... Swallowed by a whale!

[charbies]

How are you painting all of these linktober prompts daily ?!?!!? They’re so detailed and amazing omg

LOL my dear linktober enjoyer, thank you so much for saying this, and I'm glad you asked

Truth is, I'm not exactly doing them daily (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

I started making thumbnails for the prompts back in September. Last year was my first linktober, and I tried to daily draw and finish prompts same-day and I burnt out so hard and bailed around day 10. I learned the hard way that it was just too tough and sadly I'm not good at working a daily pace because I get too invested in my coloring and rendering process.

So basically this year I finished 90% of my thumbnails by end of September, then on the weekends in October I try to fully render like 4 or 5 posts from my thumbnails. I still make little tweaks to various prompts pretty much every day of October. Each of my posts takes anywhere from 1-4 hours to finish, and I can't do that level of drawing nightly because 1) I work in mental health and am too tired at night with no time lol and 2) that would destroy my hand and wrist probably

Here's process of thumbnails from a few of my more recent posts. I try to prioritize getting good composition flow & values, and then throw down local color and call it a day

In my opinion, it's safe to assume that unless someone does art for a living, they are likely doing a lot of prep and baby steps behind the scenes like this. I'm happy to be open about it to give this matter more transparency & normalcy

Moral of the story, there's no shame doing what works best for you so you can actually enjoy your hobbies! :)

[allaboutthemoonlight]

5 Journal Prompts for the Beginning of May

Write about a goal or intention you’re setting for yourself this month

How do you plan to embrace new beginnings and fresh starts this month

What can make me happy this month

What do I want less of this month

What are some ways I can practice self love and compassion this month

[softgrungeprophet]

incisive character analysis

[amazingdeadfish]

Day Twenty Five: Compass

Dude has six ears and can supposedly hear anything and everything, why did he need a compass XD?

[goodlucktai]

Could you write a sickfic type thing about Luffy where like the marines or someone uses kairouseki against him in a way that just wipes him out for a while Nd the crew looks after him??? much love <3

x

Sea stone bullets are a cause for concern, but not as much of one as a person might think. Nami’s captain has always been unsettlingly perceptive when it suits him, since well before any of them had any idea what observation haki was. He knows when a bullet is coming that he can’t bounce away.

It doesn’t do him any good to know sometimes, though. Not when he disregards the warning of danger on purpose. 

And there was really nothing else he could have done in this case, Nami is reluctant to admit even to herself, because if he had dodged, Chopper would have been shot in the back of the head. Luffy had, to his credit, thought to deflect the tiny missile with armament, but it only caused the glass casing to shatter and the substance inside to spill free. A few drops against his skin was all it took. 

He dropped like a stone. 

Usopp lunged in at the last second and caught him before he hit the deck. But then they all had to watch Luffy’s head loll, limp and unresisting. It was horrifying. It happened so fast. Despite everything Nami had seen up to this point, she had never been more afraid than in that moment. 

“What is that?” Zoro bites out, an arm spread to the side to keep his nakama from getting too close to the spill. 

It shimmered eerily in the late afternoon light, the sky overcast but still just bright enough for Robin to grow an expendable hand near the mess and pinch a bit of it in the corner of the picnic blanket they had all been lounging on all of ten minutes ago. She ground it between her fingers, protected by the blanket, to feel the texture. Within moments, understanding touched her face. 

“Infused with sea stone,” she said.

Chopper squirmed between his nakama’s bigger bodies, shouting, “Take him to the infirmary!”

Usopp was off like a shot, Luffy in his arms, Chopper right on his heels. Sanji joined Robin and Zoro at the starboard side of the ship, staring out at the remaining warships with the same look of murder in their eyes. Franky was already at the helm, and Sunny was turning in the water to face the Marines; the cannon mouth hidden in the figurehead opening to rain destruction. Brook was laughing, high-pitched and chilling, in a way that surely carried across the distance between themselves and the unlucky bastards who thought a cheap ambush would be enough to net the Straw Hats’ collective bounty. 

“A squall is coming,” Nami said, feeling the shift of the weather in her bones. “Destroy the ships but leave the soldiers alive. They’re so eager to play with sea stone—let’s give them a taste of how it feels to drown.”

“Fitting,” Jimbei rumbled. He was the most honorable person Nami had ever met, but just like the rest of them, all bets were off and morals thrown aside when it came to anyone who would try to rip Luffy away. 

By the time revenge had been swiftly doled out, and Brook’s violin easily covered the sounds of the Marines in the water, Usopp reappeared on the deck to say, “He’s okay.”

Nami’s heart still didn’t settle, not until she had bullied her way into the infirmary, planted herself on the side of the bed, and held her captain’s face in her hands to see for herself. 

“He’ll sleep for awhile, probably,” Chopper said. “Until that compound works its way through his system. There isn’t a counter-agent for sea stone—” yet, the glint in his eye suggests “—but it only weakens Fruit users, it doesn’t kill them outright. If it were a bullet lodged in his body, maybe ultimately it would fester and poison him, but this is just a trace. It’s like, um…like a sedative!”

“Maybe we should keep some on hand for when he’s being annoying,” Sanji said dispassionately, as if his hands weren’t trembling around the cigarette he was trying to light. 

Someone nudged Nami’s shoulder. She glanced up, and Zoro said, “Storm.”

“Right,” Nami remembered. “We need to get Sunny prepared.”

She was reluctant to leave Luffy, but he trusted her to lead them safely through troubled waters, so that much she had to do. Brushing her thumb over the scar under his eye, she eased her hands away then stood up and started barking orders. 

It took some effort, but Sunny danced through the wind and rain like it was all play, and hours later they came out the other side unscathed. There was a small island ahead of them, a crescent moon curve of pink sand and tropical flowers and a dilapidated, long-forgotten pier. The New World being what it was, Nami didn’t trust the peaceful picture for a goddamn second, but it would be a convenient place to moor for the time being. 

Besides, Luffy would whine if they started an adventure without him.

He missed dinner and slept through the night. Sanji is prickly and short-tempered at breakfast the next morning, crafting fluffy omelets and frying potatoes and chainsmoking angrily out the window. But his entire attitude shifts when familiar voices outside bicker their way toward the dining hall, and the galley door bursts open to reveal a wobbly-looking Luffy, an irritated Chopper, and Brook, who continues serenading their journey with a tiny ukulele. 

“SANJI!” Luffy calls across the room. “Feed me or I’ll die right now!” 

“No you’ll die ‘cause I killed you for leaving before I said you could!” Chopper snaps. 

“He’s already here,” Sanji says, across the room in seconds and frogmarching his captain to a seat at the table. “Might as well eat.” 

“Lu, how are you feeling?” Usopp demands, leaning across the table eagerly and nearly sticking his elbow in the butter dish. “You look like shit.” 

“Mean!” Luffy says. 

“Accurate,” Nami butts in. She takes him by the chin, turning his face towards her. His brown skin has an unhealthy pallor, lethargy clinging to him despite his animated good cheer. He looks like any other flu-ridden teenager. As she studies him, he wrinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out. “Brat,” she scolds without heat, releasing him.

It’s such a relief just to have him at the breakfast table. Franky starts in on a wild story about the storm Luffy missed, and Robin discreetly pushes the platter of brown sugar glazed ham closer to his plate. The morning sun, pouring through the window, suddenly seems warmer and brighter than it did moments ago. 

Still, Chopper is right. Luffy, force of nature that he is, starts to flag almost immediately following the meal. The burst of energy deserts him quietly. Nami only notices by chance, on her way toward the garden with Usopp. She casts her gaze out over the deck as she crosses it, and pauses mid-step. 

Zoro is sitting back against the side of the ship the way he always does when he’s trying to catch a few extra minutes of rest, the brim of a worn straw hat tipped over his face to shade it from the sun. Nothing about that stands out. 

But his strong arms are curled comfortably around Luffy, who naps sprawled against his first mate like a clumsily-thrown blanket, slack face pillowed on Zoro’s shoulder. 

“Luffy’s sleeping?” Usopp says, a bit too loud in his shock. “He just woke up.”

“Chopper did say it would be a few days before that shit was out of his system,” Franky pipes up. “Poor bro must really be feeling it.” 

“I told him to stay in bed,” Chopper gripes irritably. By now most of the crew has gathered, a combination of mirth, curiosity and lingering concern preoccupying their thoughts, and Nami watches Chopper cross the grassy deck and tug lightly on Zoro’s sleeve. “Hey, hey. Will you take him to the infirmary, please?”

Zoro opens his eye, a sharper gray than any blade, but never cutting when he looks at his family. After a second, he closes it again.

“Nah.”

Zoro may be a shithead at times to Sanji and Nami and Franky and—okay, most people—but all of his younger crewmates tend to get an automatic pass. Nami honestly can’t think of a time he looked at Chopper and said “nah” about anything that didn’t involve his own health. From the baffled look on Chopper’s face, neither can he. 

“Huh?? Why not?”

“We’re sleeping.”

“And he can sleep in the medbay!” Chopper insists. 

Zoro scoffs and moves his captain closer. 

“Go get your own.”

Chopper gapes wordlessly. All the rest of Nami’s nakama have a similar expression on their faces, something between stupefied and offended—save Robin, who presses a secret smile behind her hand, and Jimbei, whose rumbling chuckle is just barely audible over the sound of the sea. 

Nami—who knows very well what Zoro looks like when he’s trying to get a rise out of someone, who knows very well that she has a claim on Luffy that only a handful of other people in the world share, one that can never be broken or stolen or changed—feels herself bristle, too. 

“HE IS OUR OWN!” the majority of one of the most infamous pirate crews in the New World shriek like schoolchildren. 

Luffy’s eyes drift open in the chaos that follows, squinting through the haze until he can bring the faces of his nakama into focus. They’re all so lively, shouting and arguing about something, their ship the brightest, busiest thing under the whole sky. The sun touches his skin, warm and laughing, like it’s trying to tell him a joke. 

It’s so comfy. Soon he’ll get up and shout with them, and eat some more, and fish and play and plot a new adventure. But first he’ll dream a little while longer. He knows his friends won’t mind.

[narutofanonshinden]

Prompt of The Week

It's Fic Title Friday Saturday💖

Come up with a summary or scene for this not-yet-written fic titled, 'A Moral Compass for The Wayward Ninja'

[memoriesndew]

challenges & more 100 days of productivity april challenge towards easter camp out (teco) getting better challange weight loss. lock in.

asks & others dew asks

dumps dewy dumps monthly dumps my fav youtubers and few others you should know things I care about 🎀 daily dump

dew goals content creation: youtube notion template creation further education then 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅

(inspired by nenelonomh)

[promptfiction]

When the other packs see Stiles, they don't automatically think "very dangerous alpha werewolf." No, how could they when he's just a pale, skinny teenager dressed in several layers of plaid shirt? But in the middle of a war between humans and werewolves, they will realize that Stiles can be very bloodthirsty, sometimes too much.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I am Positively Fearless about __________ Today I feel __________ I need to be more gentle with myself when __________ I can nourish myself by __________ I am proud of myself for __________ Today I will not let fear __________ I feel most in my power when _________ I feel most fearless when __________

Source

[chiropteracupola]

it continuing to be the season of the em oc, thus, a selection of the best of our 'verse-playlists.

(hbyh and m&c playlists have a set order, cavern saints can be shuffled and probably should be)