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#rotting over this idea
0xeyedaisy · 2 months
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Random stuff
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hahskeleton · 2 months
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Yaaayy lil thing I drew today!!
GITM belongs to @venomous-qwille
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yendts · 5 months
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on my scorbus blog i posted abt the hc where when you marry a malfoy your hair slowly turns the iconic malfoy blond too, like narcissa’s in the movies, and i’ve been dying to draw it,, plus the normal version bc i thought it was just as cute as a married scorbus spread <3 (also all pose refs belong to mellon_soup on pinterest i’m far too tired to make my own rn but i love all theirs sm)
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seeminglyseph · 11 months
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I think it matters a lot that a) everyone who has seeming offered to help Karna has done so *after* she needed it. And b) was in some way using her and therefore needed her.
In the eyes of a child, if you weren’t there when she needed you, and can’t even help yourself, what good are you to her?
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rabbit-exe · 8 months
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I very much do want to see the betrayer gods again because they are some hilariously petty bitches who would definitely try and pull some absolute bullshit, but also I will Never be able to picture Lolth the Spider Queen or Asmodeus the Lord of the Hells, in mannerism, in voice, or in appearance, as ANYTHING other than Aabria Iyengar and Brennan Lee Mulligan. they did it too good and now it's Them Forever
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livvylubug · 4 months
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Cyn looks really cute in your AU!
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YESSS she’s one of my favorites to draw!!
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starry-bi-sky · 1 year
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Au where one day Daniel Thomas Fenton, 16 years old, retired ghost vigilante finally decides to tell his parents about the Accident when he was fourteen.
It… doesn’t end well. To say the least. Physically? Danny’s fine. But it blows up into a huge argument that ends with Danny getting disowned. And Danny, sick and tired of the years of neglect and fear and hate that’s radiated his house for years. Well, he just leaves. He doesn’t want to be part of the Fenton Family, he wants nothing to do with it.
He changes his name. Daniel Thomas Fenton to Thomas Nightingale. Before he was born, his parents asked Jazz what she thought her brother’s name would be. Two years old, she said Tommy. So when Danny was born, he was named Daniel Thomas Fenton.
Danny might not wanted to have been connected to the Fenton family, but he still wanted to be connected to his sister. He leaves town, but they keep in contact. And he stays in touch with Sam and Tucker too. They, along with Jazz, helped him change his name.
For the sake of continuity, I’ll keep calling him Danny.
A few months after Danny leaves Amity Park, he catches news from Eli. His little sisterdaughterclone contacting him to let him know that she snuck into Vlad’s to cause some mischief, and discovered that he was at it again.
He’d cloned Danny again. And this time it looked like it might be a successful boy. He was a baby. Danny rushed over to Vlad’s as fast as possible.
It wasn’t hard to break into the lab. Vlad was as cocky as he was stupid, and Danny had long since learned his tricks. The baby was being cared for by the vulture henchmen that Vlad used. Who were about as competent at taking care of a baby as the three fairies were in Maleficent.
Danny stole all information about the clone — how he was made, what Vlad did. Everything.
Turns out, the baby was more Danny’s son than he was a clone. Vlad had somehow rubbed two braincells together hard enough to have an epiphany of some sort. Rather than use Danny’s unstable DNA to make a clone from scratch, he used Danny’s DNA and an unnamed girl his age to make him.
(Safe to say, Danny was seriously creeped out.)
He also, somehow, figured out why Eli came out as Danielle rather than Daniel. It was the same reason that Danny’s suit went from white to black and his hair black to white when he went ghost. It was the ectoplasm’s weird inverting properties. Vlad had tried to make a male clone, but the ectoplasm he used inverted to make a girl. So, he tried the same thing, and instead tried to make a girl. The ectoplasm made the baby girl into a baby boy.
He had also, Danny seriously bet it was unintentional, somehow made the baby completely, utterly human. Well, almost completely human. The little boy was liminal in the same way Jazz was, with the minuscule changes to match. Sharper canines, a small ghostly sense, and eery eyes.
All in all, the baby was useless to Vlad. He didn’t have the powers Vlad wanted. Which Danny bet dollar to dollar was the biggest drawback to the egomaniac.
Well, what one crazed maniac found useless, Danny found he adored. It didn’t take long to dispatch the vultures, and Danny found himself hovering over the baby’s crib, unsure of what to do as the little boy’s bright blue eyes stared up at him with innocent wonder. He didn’t even know to fear strangers yet.
“Hello,” he said softly, and lowered his feet to the floor, changing back from ghost to human. “I’m Thomas.” He’d developed a weariness to his original name after Dan, and after his disownment, disliked it entirely.
The baby latched onto Danny’s finger with a gurgle, and that was it. Close the book, the end. Danny’s heart squeezed itself in his chest, a low coo trapped itself in his throat. And with hands that had never held something so small before, he picked him up.
“I bet he was gonna name you Daniel, wasn’t he?” He asked, trying to remember what the safest way to hold a baby that couldn’t keep its head up was. He cradled the baby to his chest. “He’s crazy. Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me.”
The baby just stared up at him, one chubby hand crushing his shirt. Danny couldn’t help but smile, now he knew why people always got so mushy around babies. There was so much to love about them. “I’ll come up with a better name.” He said, and walked away from the crib — there was probably something in Vlad’s lab that helped the baby. Some kinda diaper bag or something?
As he looked, he wracked his head for names. As well as that, he tried to think about what to do moving forward. The baby wasn’t like Eli, who was independent enough that she traveled the world and did whatever she wanted. He was a baby. Tiny, vulnerable, dependent. And legally, he didn’t exist.
“Why don’t I call you Bruce?” He said aloud, looking back down to the baby. Bruce. He liked the name. Bruce just looked up at him, and then tried to eat his shirt.
Danny didn’t think it was possible to fall in love so fast. “Okay, Bruce it is then.” He was smiling ear to ear. “Hi, Bruce.”
He found a diaper bag soon enough, it was near Bruce’s crib, tucked on it’s side under a chair. Danny slung it over his shoulder, switched forms, and flew out of the mansion
First thing to know about taking care of babies; it was hard. Danny flew miles from Vlad’s house, intangible and invisible, before he finally stopped at a gas station. He switched back, and then called Jazz
Who… immediately tore into him for making such a reckless, impulsive choice to go willingly into Vlad’s house
(Eli was a snitch)
(But not a big enough snitch apparently, she left the surprise baby to Danny to talk about)
And after the subsequent tearing into, Danny told her about Bruce
“What are you gonna do with him?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t just *leave* him. He’s so small Jazz.”
“Are you gonna keep him with you little brother?”
“…”
“…Just until I can figure something out.”
“I’ll send you some articles about taking care of babies then.”
Danny undeniably gets attached
He swore he’d figure something out by the end of the week. One week stretched into two. Two stretched to a month. And then a few months. And then Bruce was learning how to crawl, and he was babbling.
And he was just as attached to Danny as Danny was to Bruce.
Danny was all the way northeast by then, finding himself in Gotham. He was seventeen now, almost an adult in the eyes of the law. He was going to stay a week, if even that long, in Gotham.
And then he saved an eccentric elderly couple from being mugged. And by the end of the week he was staying in the elusive Wayne Family Manor as a special guest.
The Waynes were childless. They’d had tried for years to get a son, until eventually they gave up on it. But if you looked at their younger portraits, you’d think Danny was theirs by birth.
Days turned to weeks to months to nearly a year. And then more. Bruce was walking now, and he called Danny ‘daddy’ and he was still just as clingy as he was when he was on bottles.
Danny adored him.
And the Wayne couple were so kind to him. Danny had waited for weeks for the other shoe to drop. Nobody this rich was this kind, at least not anyone that Danny had encountered besides Sam, and Sam’s family were guppies in a pond compared to the behemoths that were the Waynes.
There was no other shoe drop. The Waynes never expected anything from Danny other than he ate well and slept well and that he stay as long as he like. They didn’t force him into attending anything, not their rich people parties or events, nothing. They bought him clothes and let him decorate his room, and spoiled Bruce positively rotten.
Danny quietly, where no one but his thoughts could hear, started to think they were better parents than the ones who gave birth to him. It changed things.
On Danny’s eighteenth birthday, the Waynes gifted him adoption papers. Danny couldn’t have grabbed his pen faster.
Danny Fenton became Thomas Nightingale, and Thomas Nightingale because Thomas and Bruce Nightingale.
Then, finally, Thomas and Bruce Nightingale became Thomas and Bruce Wayne.
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Do you have any fun facts in regards of your fantasy AU?? I really like to know a few things here and there about some AUs since it really amuses me and makes me intrigued! :]
hm...
Frank wound up with an unbreakable curse on him after he accidentally offended the wrong warlock - his head rotates instead of turning & is now detachable! it's more of an Inconvenience than anything! Wally doesn't have teeth. Home keeps every painting Wally makes for it <3 Sally nearly (accidentally!) killed Poppy, Wally, and Barnaby upon their first meeting Barnaby had a recorder instead of an accordion in the party's early days. key word "Had." Julie loves making inspiring speeches that make no sense - yet perk everyone up anyway - before the Neighborhood does anything brave/risky Poppy molts! one big feather at a time! her molted tail feathers Have been used as makeshift blankets in a pinch Howdy is not allowed to set up his stall for tinkering Near Base Camp or Any Buildings. sometimes things blow up <3 Eddie is not allowed to attend stealth missions/attacks. he sounds like an entire kitchen running around
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k9isok · 7 months
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I keeping getting this Danny Phantom au idea that's, like, Danny and Wes, but Lois and Clark from Superman. (I'm thinking about the 1978 movie for specifics if it matters.) The basis for the au is that Danny infiltrates the ranks of the local news reporters to steer away the media coverage on him because it's becoming a threat to his civilian life. In the process he becomes Wes's assistant, but Wes heavily dislikes him and tries to make him leave. They go through a series of wacky hijinks as Danny tries to keep his identity a secret, and Wes eventualy realizes who Danny is and falls in love, but doesn't tell him about either. Some bs happens, major conflict, the BEANS are SPILLED! A little will they won't they, they kiss and live happily ever after, move in, whatever couples do, I've never been in love. In fiction it sounds great, but irl sounds like a hassle. Someone please tell me I'm not being delusional on this. I want to put this on paper, but I'm so terrible at writing, idk maybe I'll take a crack at it. Fanfic authors, it's fair game, but you HAVE to @ me or something I gotta know what you come up with. I have a reach smaller than a pin tack, but a man can dream.
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eightyuh · 3 months
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so what i'm saying is like
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fitzs-space · 1 year
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Ok, its been a collective agreement that the one who wins in the life games, is the one to break the rules. correct?
I'd say that denying the watchers the ability to see what you do is one hell of a broken rule. Not really much you can do to break the rules of time itself. But could you actually imagine it if Bdubs did win? No one there to see what he does in his victory. What if the person who dies before him just cuts their video there? many have done it, not out of the possibility's. and If he kills them, they'll get send back to their spawn, they won't see what he does with his glory. Just imagine it, Bdubs wins and there is no one who shows his death. his time will run out eventually sure, its not like he will be free, the winner still always dies. But we do not get to see how. What he will say, what he does after, if he does anything at all. Just feels like a story missing a period at the end really.
All I'm saying, is Bdubs as the final winner would be fitting, not because he's got his time king gimmick, but because of how this may be the last life game in a while. The games will end finally letting someone walk away with their bloodied hands. No longer letting the watchers enjoy their final death
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lilac-den · 2 months
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Been thinking of playing BG3 with one of the ROs from either Silverking or TSR as the Tav...
But I can't stand the idea of them romancing not MC.
👀 Wonder if I can have one of the NPCs in there instead..
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cupidskissx · 1 year
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hi!! idk if u accept prompts but i love ur monaco malaise and- yeah
mastermind by taylor swift. but make it lestappen
Thank you for the love on Monaco Malaise, it truly mean so much to me! 🥰🤩
*Frantically listens to Mastermind for the first time, downloads lyrics and annotates*
I’ve never had an actual prompt before, 🥹 I’ve been afraid to put the call out, it’s such a lot of pressure and risky 🫣
That being said, I loved writing this! If anyone else has any prompts, please send them my way! I hope you enjoy this little AU, Anon ❤️
~~~
The first time Max saw Charles, he knew.
He wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew it. Call it luck, lust, or destiny, or perhaps a combination of all three. Whatever it was, he felt it in his bones.
He’d heard whispers Ferrari were considering a new team boss — some hot shot who flew up the ranks at Maranello. However, Max’s two week, no-contact vacation with his mum and sister saw him miss the media storm after Leclerc’s appointment.
The summary of meeting minutes and critical updates that his Executive Assistant compiled upon his return only had him mentioned once, in a two sentence dot point:
Charles Leclerc to replace Frederic Vasseur as Team Principal of Scuderia Ferrari. Effective: 1 January 2028.
It was easily skimmed over in favour of actioning the mass of paperwork requiring his approval.
Maybe if he’d known how this man would shift all his focus and ambition in a matter of moments, he would have at least read his profile online. Or, perhaps issued a full investigation to learn everything there was to know about him — signing it off as: “getting to know your competition”.
Alas, he did neither, leaving the universe — in all her surreptitious glory — to place them in the right place at the right time.
*
The Bahrain briefing room was hot and stuffy. Max was half out of his jacket when the door opened. An unfamiliar figure squeezed in. He was flushed, his hair spiked up. He had a notebook under his arm, a pen perched behind his ear, and he was struggling to get his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. The meeting was yet to start, but he shot Stefano Domenicali an apologetic look.
The man, who appeared close to his age, secured his phone and scanned the room for an available seat. It was surprising, concerning even, the way Max’s peripheral vision reduced until all he could see was this flustered, handsome man in the doorway.
It was like one of those cliché moments in a rom-com, the lead actress walking in, hit by a spotlight, the only one in the room — Max couldn’t look away. The man’s gaze landed on Max and his lips twitched up in a small smile, enough to make Max’s heart stutter. Max forced himself out of his stupor, smiled back, and continued to take off his jacket.
Niels Wittich tried to squeeze passed the man, knocking into him, forcing him to move out of the way and make a seating decision. He weaved through the row in front of Max, and was considerate enough not to sit directly in front of him, choosing the next seat over. Max surveyed the room, every other Team Principal was there, so that could only mean one thing. He was Charles Leclerc.
Charles settled into his seat and checked the spiral spine of his notebook, he paused. He opened it to a fresh page then started to pat down his pockets. Coming up short, he checked the spine again. Max squeezed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing. Before Charles could frisk his pockets a second time, Max leant forward and tapped his shoulder.
Charles turned around, his furrowed brow smoothing out. Handsome wasn’t all-encompassing enough to describe him. He was ethereal, timeless beauty carved by an ancient, wise deity.
Max didn’t trust his voice so he gestured to his own ear. It took a moment, but Charles’ face split into an embarrassed grin, his dimples popping, and cheeks flushing. He plucked the pen from behind his ear.
“Merci, J’oub— oh, sorry, I just got off the phone with my brother...”
Max didn’t have the opportunity to tell him he understood French — he’d lived in Monaco for long enough — because Charles wiggled the pen and kept speaking, “Thanks, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”
Charles looked down to clip his pen through the wire bound spine as Max said, “Now that would be tragic.”
He looked back in Max’s direction, his smile shy, his eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights, Max’s chest flooded with smug satisfaction and something else. Something that tingled. And because Charles wasn’t presumptuous, he leant over the back of his chair, offered Max his hand and said: “Charles Leclerc, I’ve taken over from Freddy.”
“Max Verstappen, TP for Red Bull,” he shook his hand, “Enchanté, and all that.”
Charles snorted a laugh, “And all that,” he repeated, his tone soft and warm.
“Welcome to another season gentlemen,” Stefano said from the front of the room.
They broke their lingering handshake, acknowledging that their conversation was over, their smiles faded, and Charles turned around to face the front of the room.
Max peaked over Charles’ shoulder every now and again, watching him write headings, sub headings and dot points in faint, chicken-scratch cursive.
When the presentation moved on to the compulsory, OH&S policies and procedures Charles started to doodle a small race car in the margin of the page.
It was that moment Max knew he was doomed. He had no choice but to wriggle his way into Charles life, or ruin his career trying.
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verdantglow · 2 months
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Fuck it, time to be loudly cringe & find my 30 weirdos.
Trafficstuck AU
Because even 12 years after starting Homestuck, I still found myself in bed one night, trying to sleep, but unable to because all I could think about was Griann <> Gudtym Wiscar.
(I’ve got so much figured out for this AU that I don’t know how to share. Please send me asks about your fave/anything you’re curious about so that I can have some direction for this lore vomit!)
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Various sketches of the mane 6 as villains
I’ve had a lot of fun thinking up this idea :DD I might do full references for them if I find the time
Bonus Pinkie y Dash interactions bc I love this version of them soooo much
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They hate each other n prank each other all the time <3
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dailykugisaki · 5 months
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Day Seventy-five | id in alt
He used her shirt as a washcloth because she accidentally left it in the bathroom and she came and shaved the middle of his head in his sleep.
Sukuna probably fixed it because he doesn't wanna look ugly when possessing somebody.
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