#and he was like ya. i know you do

[eddie-rifff]

lmaoooo me and shelby went into the record store ive been going to for like 13 years and i found a dance remix of ladytron by roxy music and i was like . interesting. sounds awful. ill get it. N then when i was checking out the guy at the register was like do u know what this is and i was like.... Yeah... its a dance remix of ladytron........ and the store owner came over and was like. um yeah they know roxy music. dont worry.

[koszmarnybudyn]

I found a really good refrence... So Kayne.

Oh also the og refrence under the cut cause i did use it for the background:

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #51

Damian would like it on the record that this is Todd's fault. If Todd hadn't encouraged Damian to start making fan art, he wouldn't be in this mess. Stupid Todd, Damian should've known better than to listen to him.

But here he was, blushing like mad as he nervously asked his favorite author to sign the fan art he had made for his book. He was such an idiot! Danny Fenton surely would be-

"Oh this is amazing! Do you have any prints I can buy off of you?"

Damian will swear up and down he did not faint.

[keii]

late morning

[claybooots]

Bepo *smiles wide*

[bunnieswithknives]

erm can we see more deer dale he's so silly

Deer Dale!!! Now with full antler face like I initially intended but could not figure out how to draw at the time

[atoriv-art]

older designs for my specialest guy

[orallech]

Halsin 1/?

[marclef]

so uhhhhh. that Noise update huh?

great job there buddy, you've given the dang frog anxiety!

[the-great-horse-cocktail]

Alternate timeline where Stanley doesn’t accidentally ruin Ford’s project but he still doesn’t get into Geek Life University bc some kid showed up with a baking soda volcano

[starry-bi-sky]

danny and officer martinez's relationship in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" in a nutshell:

Martinez: FREAK! GET YOUR FUCKING KID!

Battinson, on the other side of the crime scene: he don't bite

Martinez, with Nightingale firmly attached his arm, visibly biting him: YES HE DO!

*points at them* Danny is the Bugs Bunny to Martinez's Elmer Fudd.

Another Officer: i can't believe you're fighting with an actual twelve year old. Martinez: i swear to god that is not a twelve year old, that is a little hellion that crawled out of batman's shadow one dark and stormy night and decided to dedicate his existence to tormenting me. Officer: Are you really that mad about him putting a sticky note on your back-- Martinez: thats not the point

in danny's defense: the word "freak" is. a mini beserker button for him for.... obvious ghostly reasons, so like, even if its not directed at him, he still very much unappreciates Martinez's insults at Battinson. Danny may or may not be projecting.

he's not going to hurt the guy! not in any serious or permanently disfiguring way at least! But he is going to leave mean sticky notes on the square part of his spine that he can't reach, and stick salt in his 3AM Late Night Crime Scene Coffee, and kick the bottom of his heel while he's walking so he stumbles. And other petty, infuriating things that tally up and boil over, over time.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[gardenofnoah]

cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles

You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—

“Hey.”

You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.

“Too much?”

The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?

Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“

“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”

The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.

“What’s goin’ on in your head?”

You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.

“S’it okay if I hold you?”

He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.

“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”

Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.

“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”

It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.

“Can hear you thinkin’.”

“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“

“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”

You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.

“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”

[amusl02]

Son of Ogre

[post-it-notes7]

"He's the last obstacle"-- hey, Mir Falspar, let's slow down a bit.

he's been slamming on the breaks this whole time

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

his pronouns are they/them 😤

transparent version below!