#intrigued by the fic
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Idea expanded, Rockstar Eddie falling head over heels for Bartender Steve working in a high class club type of joint. He sees him working one night and thinks God damn, he's hot. I'm taking him home tonight.
Except bartender Steve has developed a significant distaste for celebrities and rich people in general because of getting cut off from his homophobic parents for coming out and the general bad way many have treated him at work whilst sloshed. But lucky for Eddie, Steve doesn't recognize him. And even though he started off in a trailer park, the fame has gone to his head a little and he asks Steve out with the full intention of getting into his pants and never seeing him again.
But oh no, would you look at that Steve isn't easy. And what Eddie thought would be a booty call ends up being a ten hour date around the city where he has more fun than he even thought was possible. Just from talking with Steve about anything and everything, flitting to parks and museums. And Eddie doesn't even realize until he's back at his hotel that they didn't even kiss.
And they go out more and more, and Eddie likes him more and more and he finds out where the rich people hate comes from. And it scares him. So he keeps lying. Like an idiot. And he tells Steve a fake last name, he tells him a fake job (which is only half fake because he did used to be a tattoo artist) and he rents an air bnb that he pretends is his own place. And the lies keep getting more elaborate to cover up more lies. And he keeps refusing to meet Steve's friends out of fear that they'll recognize him. And he really just drove himself into a corner here because he is absolutely in love with Steve at this point but how the fuck can you have a normal relationship when you are pretending to be someone else?
Turns out you can't, and Steve finds out the truth despite his efforts. But the twist is, he thinks it's fucking hilarious. After a normal period of What the fuck reaction time he gets over it. But never let's Eddie live it down.
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6/27 Edit: Welp, now there's a fic.
Two fics actually. The other is by KikiZ on ao3 which is great if you're not looking for an explicit fic! Because mine will be. It's also a bit more introspective than what I got going on, and also thus far, hella romantic.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic idea#that i am getting too interested in#rockstar eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#just...ideas#we're just talking#steddie drabble#steddie fic#i just like the twist of avoiding classic angst#i find it very funny#all that work and stress and axiety#just for your boyfriend to call you a dumbass with affection#it...intrigues me#if I did write this I think a one shot basis could work#in theory#just in theory
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hEY THE PROJECT!!!! I'M CAUGHT UP!!!
SO i started watching hermitcraft this season and one of the povs i picked up is wels and!! i've really enjoyed watching :VV everyone else is fun but when iw as watching wels i was like. i gotta draw. something.
taking some insp from fanartists doing fake thumbnails for some of the secret life folks when that was running, i decided to try my hand at some fake thumbnails of my own! it's been rly fun and definitely stretching my skills =7= i'm gonna see how long i can keep up w it :VVV
#hermitcraft#hermitcraft s10#welsknight#welsknight fanart#hermitcraft fanart#hermitcraft season 10#wow you really can post more than 10 images now huh.#bUT!!!#i was intrigued enough to watch wels' pov because!!!#of reading redstone and skulk :VVVV#(it's a really hecking good fanfic on ao3 u should 100% check it out)#(it's by silverskye13)#(one of the fics ever)
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Treat Danny like a foreign dignitary
Something I haven't seen addressed yet in the dpxdc microfandom(?) is the political implications of the JL's actions toward Ghost King Danny. Now, to preface this, I, unsurprisingly, am not an expert in international politics. But this has been bothering me anyway.
In every dpxdc fic I've read Batman at some point interrogates Danny, and like,,,,you can't just do that??? Imagine if Batman interrogated the leader of a new nation or a different species, that'd be a huge overreach of his power.
Or when the JL or Batman start amassing ghost hunting equipment. Like, this is a paramilitary group with strong ties to the US, which have already made aggressive moves towards Danny and his people, the GIW, manufacturing weapons specifically designed to hurt his citizens. That's some cold war shit. Usually John Constantine will warn them that Danny is the king of a very powerful realm but it's never taken into account.
In cases where Amity Park is considered a part of Danny's kingdom, hacking into their servers or trespassing also carries a lot of weight, yet the JL never face any consequences. Any action made by even one of them, even a sidekick, will reflect on the League as a whole. Unless actions are taken to punish them, it will be viewed as them condoning it.
There's something for Fright Knight to do for his boy king, act as a political advisor. The King's personal knight will have political knowledge as part of their job, they're too public a figure, in ghost society at least, not to.
So yeah, just something that's been bugging me
#dpxdc#danny phantom#ghost king danny#justice league#batman#Would love to see Aquaman call them out#Where's the political intrigue fic
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a future scene with y/n and springtrap from my recent fic
(Don't worry I'm still working on I'm Not Paid Enough)
#my art#springy boy#fnaf springtrap#springtrap#fnaf 3 springtrap#springtrap x y/n#y/n x springtrap#frighteningly intriguing#frighteningly intriguing fic#<3#fnaf#fnaf 3 y/n#fnaf 3#five nights at freddy's 3#five nights at freddy's#fazbear frights
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Ghosts of Those We Once Knew
a phic phight fill for @silverwing013
Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents
**💚**
“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone.
There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline.
…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears.
Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink.
Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.
“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?”
“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay.
“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”
Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”
The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.
There was a moment of silence.
“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”
Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.
Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”
Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.
“Well?”
“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?
“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”
Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”
“So?”
…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.
Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.
Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.
…Who was Vladmir Masters?
*
It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.
Or. Well. Fly.
He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?
The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…
…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.
It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.
Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.
…Was still his mom.
Would…would always be his mom.
Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.
It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.
By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.
Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.
It was fine.
It was all going to be fine.
…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?
…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.
*
Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.
A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…
…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.
Holy crap.
Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.
Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”
The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”
“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.
Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—
Danny read the line again
—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.
Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.
…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.
Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.
He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.
It would be easy.
…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.
It had to be. It would have to be easy.
*
So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.
Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.
Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.
Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?
Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.
…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.
The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.
When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.
Danny waited.
…He waited.
And…Danny waited.
No one came.
Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?
Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?
Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.
Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.
On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.
Danny grimaced.
He…stuck his head through the door.
There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book.
…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering.
Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere.
He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale.
There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge.
Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here.
…Maybe he should look downstairs?
The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny.
Danny floated down deeper.
There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.
There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow.
They ended at a closed door.
Danny hesitated. He poked his head through.
On the other side was a ghost.
Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!
He should leave. Danny should leave.
Danny barely made it three doors down.
Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered.
The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath.
Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?
Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!”
The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—
You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped.
“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.
Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.”
The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away.
…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question.
“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this?
…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way?
Danny followed him into the room.
It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.
Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest.
The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head.
You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?
A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true?
“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”
The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.
Ominous.
May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response.
Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?”
No.
The ghost added nothing more.
Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine.
The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire.
And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—
—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.
Vlad Masters stared back at him.
…Huh.
Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move.
“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”
Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?”
Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?”
Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning.
“House blew up.”
That was succinct enough, right?
The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”
…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy.
“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”
Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.”
Oh.
…Oh.
There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him.
And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia.
Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?”
Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.”
“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”
The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.”
“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?”
There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.
And then it was gone.
“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”
Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”
Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal.
“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.”
Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed.
They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again.
#phic phight 2024#danny phantom#vlad masters#I forget Alicia's last name ngl#dead fenton parents#Jazz is sir not appearing in this film#danny fenton#good!Vlad au#phic phight#RIP a prarie home companion you were a cool show but your host was [REDACTED] of course you were gonna get cancelled#my and my persistent love of landlines#faer fic#I do not LIKE vlad. However. This intrigued me.#dead ghost man who furthers the study of ghosts while knowing his college besties might take advantage of him for their own research. whack#anyway. the portal blew up#phic phight 24
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[Day 9 - Hockey player!Gavin/Figure skater!Connor: A Meet-cute -Veilder💖]
Boy do I love me some Ice Skating AUs 👀👀
You can check out the days early up on Patreon!
#what are y'all's fave ice skating fics?#I know theres a lot on dbh#gosh I have to dig around again#anyways Im v much intrigued with this O.O#dbh#dbh connor#dbh gavin#convin#judeshottoart#feb2023artprompts
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HHH
uhhh not me speed reading @glitchysquidd fic Frighteningly intriguing
take my art :]]]
#Fnaf#springtrap#fnaf william afton#purple guy#frighteningly intriguing#fanart#literally dying#first post bouta cry#first post#this fic ate so hard
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One of my art goals in this fandom is to show more appreciation for my fave fics and I’ve been slowly rereading @archersxartxblog “warden’s twins” so I thought I’d try to draw some stuff for it! For context it’s a fic where 10yo ingo and emmet get sent to hisui during their pokemon journey & everyone just assumes they’re ingo’s kids lmao. It’s really good and interesting I highly recommend it! Also I can’t help but think about how drayden must be in hell in this au like Jesus Christ I can’t imagine he’s doing too well considering everything asdgdfgh
#ingo pokemon#submas#emmet pokemon#gym leader drayden#gym leader clay#pokemon legends arceus#art#draydens probably well on his way to getting himself a stress induced ulcer at the very least#poor guy probably doesn’t have much to keep him positive especially considering the cave scene 💀#also hey if the author is reading this I love ur fic it’s so intriguing
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(x)
#archive of our own#ao3 quotes#ao3 stuff#archive of our own quotes#fanfic#fanfic quotes#funny#ao3#ao3 summary#I suck at summary#pls act like this is sexy enough to seduce you to read this fic#literally me every time I write a summary#please#I promise I can actually write#ignore my poor attempts at summing up my work#in a way that doesn’t give everything away but tells you enough to gain intrigue#it’s such a hard balance
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hi. if you like weirdly intense mentor-protégé relationships, War of Faith (追风者) might be for you.
the protégé: Wei Ruolai, a little potato, a poor, brilliant, idealistic boy whose n:o 1 ambition in life is to... work for advisor Shen Tunan of Central Bank. apparently. as his personal assistant.
"My life is not worth much anyway," Wei Ruolai says,
wow. ok.
and this is Shen Tunan, Wei Ruolai's boss and mentor. here he's looking at Wei Ruolai who has just said something very smart.
i'm going to eat that little potato for breakfast
—Shen Tunan, probably.
people. these two have Chemistry. Shen Tunan keeps looking at Wei Ruolai like he can't quite believe his luck at having found such a sweet potato and can't make up his mind about which part to bite into first. and Wei Ruolai is just *incoherent noises* he's just so earnest. he's quiet and smart (and also very stupid) and tenacious and a tiny bit of a brat, and he lights up under Shen Tunan's attention.
Shen Tunan: "You spoke well earlier."
Wei Ruolai, having looked bashfully away:
ahem.
praise kink, anyone?
#to be fair anything can still happen#i'm only 10 episodes in and there are only 12/38 out as of writing this#but so far this show has been so good#the story is intriguing (and so far very nuanced re: propaganda)#and the side characters are interesting and complex#so it doesn't feel as if there are yibo scenes to look forward to and non-yibo scenes to suffer through#i sincerely recommend. please everyone watch this and scream about it with me and also write fic about these two#shen tunan#wei ruolai#shenwei#(i decided that's the ship name)#war of faith#追风者#wof ep 9#spoilers
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To lose one’s faith… is to lose one’s ability to see in the dark….
#been thinking about that discarded vessel recently#I hope it’s not lonely. it’s been stuck in the game files for almost 5 years. like this thing needs therapy#I hope it comes back with an epic backstory and revenge plot ngl#I’ve been reading a lot of fan fiction if you can tell#the fics with the vessel are kinda intriguing 👀#quote by me. aren’t I poetic ❤️#art#my art#deltarune#goner vessel
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If Camteen had been canon during the Dibala arc
#and thirteen wouldn’t have been fireddd because she’s not dating foreman#Using all my willpower to not go down a rabbit hole with this because a fic w this would be so intriguing to plan#camteen#cadley#house md#incorrect house md#incorrect quotes#remy thirteen hadley#allison cameron#an anya original#source: unknown#100
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Barely two minutes into Grian's Ep 8 and I'm losing it... what a fantastic task, oh my gosh. Jimmy on Discord haunting him from beyond the grave...
Every bit of that so far, from "No way!" to "Prove that you can see me!" and "This- This is mad-" is gonna make awesome 'fic material...
Jimmy: "And you're looking at Etho and ZombieCleo"
Grian, panicked, cutting him off: "Okay okay okay okay okay!"
#Secret Life#Grian#trafficblr#Jimmy Solidarity#traffic life smp#Secret Life SMP spoilers#Secret Life spoilers#When I saw people teasing Grian for saying 'admin fairies' I was like '... but don't they literally have an admin named Sonam-#who's in Bdubs Last Life Ep 1?' and idk if this is how it works but now I'm thinking maybe Jimmy's on the admin account?#Can the admin account be invis? I am intrigued#^ I am liveblogging so this might get disproven later just something I've been musing over#Would love to find a place for Sonam in my fic but idk anything about them wheeze#Riddle watches Traffic#mcyt#traffic spoilers
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Okay I’ve been toying with an idea for a Six of Crows au post-Crooked Kingdom where Van Eck won for a little while now and yeah idk but I had a scene idea come to me just now so I’m gonna write it here to see what you guys think and if there’s any interest then I might add it to my list of fics to write
This feels like a weird introduction but, er, here we go:
Inej knew the moment Kaz got home. There were no longer any crowds in the house to come to attention at his entrance, or if there were then no-one had bothered to come down to the half-room and tell Inej, but she could hear his voice drifting through the vents as soon as the door upstairs banged shut behind him.
“Where’s Inej?”
“Where do you think?” Matthias’ reply came roughly, and Inej could all but picture the disapproving grimace that must be crossing his face about now.
Let him judge. She didn’t need to leave the half-room, and for as long as that was true she wouldn’t. The vents did not give her every room though, and she did miss gathering her secrets. She wondered if there was anyone else in the house, but the five of them. Five? She stopped and counted them on her fingers. Yes, five. Hopefully still five. Inej had not bothered to leave the half-room in days, and no-one had been down to see her since yesterday morning.
She heard the door click open behind her, of course, but she did not bother to look up as Dirtyhands entered the room.
“Wraith,”
“Don’t you read the papers, Kaz?” Inej asked, without turning, “The Wraith is dead,”
She stood up, hand wandering across the table for her little pot of jurda. It tasted like shit and it wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, but it took less than a month for the price of the blossoms to surpass the height of the stars so she’d have to make do with whatever they had left.
“Inej-”
“They found her body on the steps outside the Church of Barter almost three months ago, remember?” she finally turned to face Kaz, unscrewing the lid on the little silver pot as she did so, “Killed by some mercenary called the White Blade, who still hasn’t been found by they way in case you haven’t seen the latest. I guess it’s difficult to catch a ghost,”
Difficult to catch a wraith.
“We’ve had this conversation several times, Inej-”
“And we’re going to have it again,”
Inej placed an orange jurda blossom on her tongue, then offered the open container to Kaz. It was almost empty. He waved her off.
“I thought you didn’t go in for that sort of thing,”
Inej shrugged.
“Gotta stay awake somehow, haven’t I? We’re busy,”
“We’re not on a job”
“We’re never on a job. Unless the reason you’ve bothered to grace me with your presence is a proposition?”
Kaz shook his head.
“I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,”
Inej looked away. There was never any news. And yet somehow she always expected differently.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Probably,”
Inej caught another jurda blossom between her fingers. She needed to stay awake, because if she slept she would see him. She would see all the ways she’d failed.
“It wasn’t your fault, Inej, we’re having the same conversations on repeat can’t you see-,”
“And we’ll have them again,” she shrugged, “We will have this conversation again, Kaz, because I made a mistake and you are coddling me like a child who won’t be able cope if you tell them something was their fault. Tell me it was my fault, Kaz! We both know that it’s true,”
Kaz shook his head.
“I’d rather repeat the previous,”
“Then let’s,” snapped Inej, because hell if this jurda wasn’t strong enough to keep her awake then maybe an argument would be, “Let’s repeat the goddamn conversation, Kaz, because you’re right. We have the same two conversations on repeat and do you want to know why? Because I am owning up to the mistake I made and I am trying to deal with the consequences of it, but you had no right to do what you did, do you understand me? You messed up and you need to take some damn responsibility, because if you think-”
“You always knew Tailoring Dunyasha’s body to look like yours was a possibility for your escape option,” said Kaz, calmly.
She hated how quiet his voice was, how slow and deliberate he sounded next to the and ramblings that she could not stop from stumbling out of her.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” she hissed, slamming her jurda back down on the table.
“I couldn’t have done anything to stop that,”
“You could have tried,”
“Inej-”
“Shevrati,”
Know-nothing.
She waved a hand vaguely at the door.
“Get out,”
Kaz turned to leave, then paused.
“I am sorry, Inej. They’d like to see you upstairs, you know. Nina misses you,”
“Nina can come down here then,”
“Inej… I can’t do anything for you but apologise,”
“Keep you apologies,” she snarled, and when the door had closed behind him added: “Choke on them,”
Kaz could apologise all he wanted. She would not forgive him. What right did he have to expect anything different from her than this? Did any of them? Kaz had not had to watch his parents cry, as they carried home the body of a child that wasn’t theirs. Kaz had not had to feel the ironclad grip of the person he thought he’d trusted most in the world as they held him back and told him to swallow his sobs and keep quiet. Kaz had not given up and gone limp in their arms, a mess of tears and useless prayers, as he saw his parents slip from his grasp once again and knew that he would not have the chance to tell them truth.
Kaz had also not failed the others, and did not have to feel the truth of that choking him every time he saw them. Kaz had not spent almost three months barely daring to venture out of the half room, just so he would never have to lock eyes with Jesper Fahey. There was a scream inside Inej that had been slowly building itself since the day of the auction, and if she did not find a way to release it soon it may very well eat her alive.
#I’ve never read a fic where van eck won but if anyone has any recs let me know because I’m very intrigued by the concept#six of crows#grishaverse#crooked kingdom#leigh bardugo#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#nina zenik#matthias helvar#kanej#kanej fic#kanej fanfiction#soc fics#soc fanfic#soc fandom#soc fic#soc fanfiction#ao3#six of crows fandom#six of crows fic#six of crows fanfic#grishaverse fandom#grishaverse fanfic#soc au#six of crows au#au fic#au fic idea
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Springtrap’s Hands
#my art#frighteningly intriguing#frighteningly intriguing fic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's 3#five nights at freddy's#fnaf 3#springy boy#fnaf springtrap#fnaf 3 springtrap#springtrap#yn x Springtrap#springtrap x y/n#reader/springtrap#william afton#afton
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who needs comfortable love ch 1 by @the-ominous-owl
#avatrice#fic rec#author: the_ominous_owl#ava silva#sister beatrice#warrior nun#honestly the concept just intrigues me#i love it when the halo is semi what?? like sentient??#my art
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