#crossover kind of but not really

[savanir]

Danyal- or well, Daniel now he supposes, seeing as none of these “kind” strangers can pronounce his name right. Has found himself a golden opportunity to hopefully get back to where he actually belongs.

His current predicament was anything but what he could have ever imagined happening to him. He remembers an attack, an assassination attempt on him and his twin. He remembers taking a hit meant for Dami, he remembers the electricity coursing through his body from the weapon the assassin used and so graciously left in his abdomen, meant to make his body seize which would make attempts to keep him from dying just a little bit harder, and his death just that little bit more painful.

After that he vaguely remembers falling, and then burning green.

Next thing he knows he’s in a foreign place with foreign people trying to “help”.

Wherever he is he’s certainly not anywhere near Nanda Parbat.

But he’ll get back, and the easiest way to do so is to secure transportation and funding.

Which shouldn’t be hard as soon as he’s “convinced” this random rich guy to adopt him.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Oliver is starting to regret the brilliant PR idea of sponsoring and supporting the new improved Star City foster care system.

In and of itself that’s of course a very good thing, and absolutely something he cares about and is happy to spend his money on, but these things should just be a given, just a thing that’s done because it’s the right thing to do.

Can’t just do that of course… we have to make a huge spectacle about it, showcase some poor but very adorable kids in need of a loving family. make a big party about it.

Oliver is vaguely reminded of pet adoption days that some animal shelters do. Also a good thing he’s in full support of, but that’s animals, and these are actual children.

The thought is making it rather hard to keep a pleasant smile on his face. Thankfully he’s very effectively being distracted by the little guy who somehow managed to attach himself to his leg and refuses to let go.

Oliver looks down.

The boy with the biggest most blue eyes looks up.

There are cameras and reporters and Oliver can feel the bad decision creeping up and the voice in the back of his head screaming, “don’t do it. DON’T DO IT”

Oliver lifts the boy up, “hey there little man, what is your name?”

He gets a big smile in return and the bad decision suddenly doesn’t seem so bad anymore, weird.

—✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*---*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—

Roy had been talking, or well, it was more like venting to Dinah about something Oliver had done, or said, maybe both, probably both… When they heard the front door open and was quickly followed by a “Dinah I have a surprise but first you have to promise you won’t get mad”

Which… bad sign, very bad sign, terrible sign.

“Oliver what have you done”

The man walks into the room and proudly shows off his latest impulsive decision, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

…That’s a whole ass kid.

“Oliver Jonas Queen! you did not!”

But he did and that choice changes everything.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Jason is babysitting Danny for a day.

Dick didn't want to be at this Gala, but Tim had only been able to hold off the PR team for so long. As the oldest, he needed to show up, especially after Bruce had made an effort to put Dick in charge of a gym and had publicly announced he was leaving shares of his company to Dick.

For the past three hours, he has danced around backhand compliments and poor attempts to invite him to bed. Dick hated it, even when he laughed and smiled like he was having the time of his life.

He would much rather be at home with Danny. His son was a ball of sunshine, even if his existence had been a surprise. Not an unhappy one, but certainly one that he needed to prepare for.

Danny's mother had just shown up one day, dropped him off with water eyes, and demanded Dick care for her son. He thought she was playing some kind of scam, but after some digging, he found she had no choice.

She was in the final stages of a deadly heart disease, and mere weeks after dropping off Danny, she had passed in a risky surgery. He looked into her death to make sure the surgeons had done all they could, but it was clear her death had been the result of her illness.

The surgery was a last-ditch effort with a succession rate of only twenty percent. She likely knew that which is why she had tracked Dick down after their one-night stand and left her one-year-old in his hands.

She even included a letter apologizing for never coming forth with Danny, afraid that someone of Dick's standing would have taken her baby from her. She knew he wasn't a monster like that, but she had not been willing to risk losing her son.

She had no choice once she learned of her chances of survival. She had looked into Dick to the best of her abilities to verify he was a good man that would treat her son well.

Turns out she was all alone in the world and had grown up in the foster system, so she had hoped that Danny would miss out on that life.

Dick had no idea how Lucille could have been that strong on her own. He bought her a better gravestone and tried to honor her memory. He became Danny's guardian upon her confirmed death.

It took them months to get into a swing of things, in which he had faded from public view, hoping to keep his son as far away from attention for as long as he could.

He knew he couldn't protect Danny forever, but he could dream. He did thankfully had Tim and Babs, who worked overtime to help him. Otherwise, he doesn't think he will be able to make it this long with the paparazzi catching a picture of his boy.

His family took shifts to cover for him and tonight it was Jason. His brother made a excused of getting the flu two days ago- having gone to the hospital to sell it- and everyone assumed he was too sick to be here.

In reality, he was babysitting Danny. His brother had been excited to bake cookies and decorate them with his nephew. Dick wishes he could be there if only to take pictures. Danny had a unique way of wrapping everything in the family around his little fingers, and seeing Jason melt in his presence was a joy in and of itself.

Instead, here he was on a Friday night, standing in a room surrounded by luxurious upon luxurious and missing his soft second-hand store couch where his son liked to cuddle while watching cartoons.

Dick was in the middle of a conversation with a few beautiful women who were obviously trying to lead him back to a hotel room. He might have considered it if he hadn't overheard them discussing using him for his money.

At the time, he was Nightwing, but the matter still stood. They thought him an easy meal ticket, and he had to pretend that their sickly, sweet smiles were charming.

Thankfully, his phone rings while one runs her fingers on his arm, so he has the perfect excuse to slap her hand away "accidentally" while reaching for his phone. He gestures it with a small, apologetic smile, stepping away from the group before they can stop him.

Without checking, Dick clicks the call. Even if it's spam, he must act like it was a fundamental issue he couldn't ignore. "This is Dick Grayson."

"Danny's in the walls! I don't know how he goes in there, and I don't know how to get him out!" Jason screams into his ear, sounding both panicked and terrified. "I can hear him, but I can't see him. Come home! Strange things are happening- what is that!? Why is it coming out of the walls!?"

The call ends with the echoing sound of Jason's scream and a monstrous wail. Dick is left listening to the dial sound, wholly frozen with his fake smile and expensive clothes in the corner of the gala. One of the women steps closer to him. "Is everything alright-"

Dick doesn't let her finish her sentence, pushing past her as he breaks into a mad sprint towards the parking lot. He needed to get home yesterday.

He forgot to warn Jason that Danny was a beacon for ghosts and that a haunting had likely arrived while he was away. He knew he had forgotten something on that babysitting list!

[noodles-and-tea]

Destiny something something ineffable

[robo-milky]

The Coffin of TWST

(I’m sorry for my bastardazation of their style- I just thought it was so cute 😭)

Ahhh this has got to be my highest effort spoof- I told myself I’d just draw my faves in the style but no- I present to you coffined Ramshackle

[Ramble]

Okay… but talking more about the actual worldbuilding of TCOAAL? THERE’S MUCH POTENTIAL AS A DYSTOPIA! We got corrupt government, capitalism, cults, and demons! So much to dig into-

If I were to make an actual AU… I think it’d be interesting if it plays out as episode one. The setting of the apartment alone already has enough ideas to work with- Yuu, who was supposed to be visiting, gets quarantined into the apartment as others are convinced they have the parasite. Will the rest of the TWST cast be neighbours or guards? Both would be neat. (Grim’s just an entity a nearby cultist summoned that is demanding Yuu to give him their room for a shelter-)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

with Luo Qingyang and Lou Binghe having the same last name I got start thinking of an au: like what if lbh was her little brother

tho what's funnier lbh in the mdzs universe or that means tlj is lou qingyangs dad in that au

I wanted to give this a genuine answer but I kept getting distracted by Lou Binghe...so...yeah.

[arachnestwilight]

Big day for autistic people everywhere (it's me, I'm autistic people everywhere).

[titaniumions]

ANIMAL CROSSING 1999

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

-----------------

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Phantom doesn’t want to be king.

And the Observants also don’t want him to be king.

Frankly, very VERY few people want him to be king, dead or alive.

But opening the sarcophagus, even if it’s closed NOW, disrupted some magic protections. Until those can be fixed, summoning spells need to be answered by SOMEONE. Not all of summons, just like—once a month or so. Because if they don’t let that power outlet happen, all of those summon magics build up and suddenly Pariah Dark reigns again. Answering the summon basically dispels the built up magic, like opening a dam.

Again, Danny doesn’t WANT to do this either, but everyone else involved is a bad choice. He won’t even be named prince, because THEN that implies he COULD be king. He needs a title, of some kind, a position in the court, no matter how tenuous, so he can do the thing. Something where no one in their right or even WRONG mind would think to try to kill him for the position or try to marry him or something equally annoying to deal with.

So.

He becomes the Ghost Court Jester.

He even gets a fancy little outfit upgrade when he’s summoned, all black and white bell hats and shoes, a stupid little ruffle collar and black parachute pants, even face paint with a tiny dot of glowing neon green at the tip of his nose. The works. Better yet, if he hasn’t been ‘unsummoned’, his human form is just the exact same costume with swapped colors. He can change into his normal outfits, but until that circle has been disrupted, the next summon, or the next full or new moon, he’s stuck into the outfit when he first transforms from either form.

The Phantom Jester, which is a title more intimidating than Danny appears to be if we are to be honest, cracks jokes and never, EVER takes the summons seriously.

“Listen, I just had to get my hours in and it’s the last day of the lunar month, you got lucky I came at all.”

“I got the position by virtue of not wanting to go to Time Jail for a crime I technically didn’t commit and technically probably won’t but, well, eyes are the beholder of the grudge or something else equally cryptic to make you mad.”

“Is this a slumber party? … do you have cake? Bummer. Well, enjoy the bleeding walls then.”

“Whether I help you or not is entirely dependent on how well of a run down you can give me on this book I have to read that I have not at all touched.”

“Explain the reason in three sentences or less. I suggest less. And if it’s stupid I’m hitting you—oh you think this circle can contain me? Haha. It won’t.”

“Is that chicken blood? Why?? What did the chickens do to you?”

There are props in his costume but he literally never knows what he’s gonna pull out of his sleeves. Danny can’t even do a balloon animal and knows exactly zero card tricks, which would be more of an issue if the cards weren’t the size of a dinner plate. He barely even juggles and he’s honestly probably just utilizing his rarely-used telekinetic powers, but he does give people flowers if they haven’t been a total jerk. And if those flowers are like, rare and have seeds for propagation, well… he literally wouldn’t know. No, really, he doesn’t. He gets summoned by at least two ecology departments and he has no idea why, I mean, if he had a nickel—

He also had pies and is NOT afraid to use them.

[otaku553]

As it goes with every new brainrot I have, it’s time for Kirby crossover again :)

Kirby in one piece! With one piece’s strong focus on dreams and found family, I thought it would fit for Kirby to be a pirate that dreams of sailing to the stars and beyond. Not that this is very achievable by normal means, but we know that it’s at least possible with Eneru and the Skypiea arc :D

More notes in the read more!

Kirby has the devil fruit power of the copy-copy fruit! A paramecia activated by contact and only able to copy one fruit at a time. It can copy logias and paramecias with no problems, though actual ability using the fruit’s powers is up to Kirby to practice and figure out. Zoans can only be copied to partial transformations and cannot be awakened. Kirby doesn’t have much of a mind for haki but has a lot of latent conquerer’s haki that he doesn’t realize— it’s one of the reasons he’s able to make friends so effortlessly.

Meta Knight in this AU is a retired marine, between Captain and Rear Admiral level. He has a bat model zoan fruit that allows him to grow wings, and is a skilled swordsman. He’s retired from the marines but acts a his own separate party that is neither revolutionary, marine, nor pirate, keeping his own fleet known as the Meta-Knights. Their actions are similar to pirates despite not flying a Jolly Roger. They claim territory to protect and occasionally fight other pirate crews, and they claim no allegiance to the world government. They simply go where they are needed. Meta Knight will sometimes sail with Kirby on his small ship, the Popstar, just to keep Kirby out of trouble and make sure the ship is well stocked and well-maintained and able to be seaworthy.

Dedede is the king to one of the small countries that isn’t represented at the Reverie. That means he has a lot more freedom to do his own thing, including setting sail while taking a crew of Dees with him and leaving the country in the hands of some administrative Dees. Dedede splits his time between exploring and sailing and returning home to run his country, with the help of his trusty second in command, Bandanna Dee. Dedede has a penguin model Zoan fruit, and Bandanna doesn’t have any devil fruit but is proficient in coating their spear in haki. They’re the designated save-the-fruit-user-from-drowning person when they’re on deck.

Kirby’s crew changes because a lot of the people he recruits tend to have their own responsibilities. His crew is also full of people he’s beaten. It’s not uncommon for Kirby to sail alone, though he gets into more scrapes than usual with bad weather and rough waves. It can hardly be called a pirate crew, but Kirby has collected all the most heinous criminals under his banner and as such, the world government treats it as a threat.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Danny x Danny

So, sometimes I just like to imagine ridiculous pairing and then I have a moment that makes me go "actually..."

So Danny Fenton aka Danny Phantom(he/him) x Danny the Street(they/them)

If you're not familiar with Danny the Street, they are a literal teleporting street that's essentially a gay neighborhood. They are a safe space for people who don't fit into mainstream society, and is a big ally of the queer community...

(art by Zal-Cryptid)

So, a street that is a safe haven for weirdos AND the queer community... Kind of the perfect place for a half ghost boy being hunted by the government... especially since trans Danny is a popular head-canon... and the fact they share the same name is kind of funny...

Damn it, do I now ship Danny and Danny the Street together?

Just imagine them talking to each other Danny the Street using TVs and signs and Danny just talking out loud as he works through so trauma and bonds with them over coffee...

and just the slight tragedy that is not being able to hold your lover's hand but at the same time the romance of being able to feel your lover's affection for you all around because they are literally all around you

Idk there's just something kind of unhinged yet sweet about the whole thing

[quantumfeat72]

(You got a MEMORY OF GIVING UP!) (You'll always remember this.)

[If Memory of Giving Up is equipped when you leave Dormont, the Interloper will not approach you to offer help that loop.]

(more of this!)

[mad-serotonin]

An illustration I did for a class anthology! 🧪🃏I think this crossover has the perfect vibes

Once again trying to break my hiatus. Finals week is almost over and I’ll be free so soon.

[fandomsfordays21]

I always find it upsetting that there isn't very much crossover content between ULTRAKILL and Murder Drones. I don't mean in the sense of them fighting each other, either.

I mean, sure, it would be really cool to watch V1 fight N, V, or Uzi but imagine them just... interacting.

I mean, we know that V1 has at least SOME sentience outside of its hunt for fuel. All of the machines in ULTRAKILL do, to some extent. I think it would be neat to see how V1's intelligence would interact with that of a Disassembly Drone or a Worker Drone.

V1 was designed to be a weapon. They were made during a time of war, after all. Not only that, it's heavily implied that V1 was the machine designed to END the war. V1 was made to destroy fucking EARTHMOVERS for God's sake, it had to have been intended to be a last charge.

That is the difference between Machines from ULTRAKILL and the robots/drones from MD. Drones, whether Worker or Disassembly, were designed with intended sentience and human-like behavior. They have expressive faces, they have humanoid bodies, they have emotions that obviously seem to be an intended feature considering the previously mentioned expressiveness. A Machine from ULTRAKILL, though, gained that sentience from their fuel source.

In the lore of ULTRAKILL, blood is the fuel of all life. All living things run on blood, and all living things bleed. Machines from ULTRAKILL have both these characteristics, and are therefore alive. This is not only a technical thing, there's evidence of Machines being sentient. The Gutterman's poem, Mindflayers and the Swordsmachine both caring about their appearance and partaking in body modification, Mindflayers specifically being stated to make a body FROM SCRATCH and being so upset when it's damaged that they fucking SELF DESTRUCT. This isn't even mentioning the fact the Swordsmachine is a type of celebrity, so much so that he has admirers that copy his form, that being the red and blue Swordsmachines, named Agony and Tundra respectively. This also means that Agony and Tundra CHOSE names so they could be unique. Even V2 shows this sentience in the form of getting enraged when she is hit with the Knuckleblaster, the arm that V2 stole. The Earthmovers even show some sentience, as they are tragically stated to have reached for heaven while shutting down, like they were asking for help from the God that was no longer there. Even the Terminals with them creating the style meter and with them cheering or booing you while in the Cybergrind.

Even V1, despite being the player's vessel and having no ways to obviously display a personality or intelligence, has actions or traits that could imply it. Taking the arms from V2, the line of text "You're not getting away this time." When V2 runs away during the 2nd fight. This meaning V1 probably intended to kill V2 back in Limbo and was salty about V2 running away again. This is interesting though, because despite V1 showing signs of being upset when V2 runs away, they don't kill Gabriel after either encounter. You could easily prescribe this to "Well Gabriel can't continue the plot if he's dead." but it is pretty strange that V1 acts upset when V2 runs away again, triggering a chase, but let's Gabriel leave both times without complaints. Not to mention the fact that when V1 reads books, they tend to mostly focus on text involving Gabriel, deeming that "The rest of the text is irrelevant". (Also the thing of calling skeletons Hank for some reason? Who tf is Hank, Hakita? Is he a real guy that V1 knew or is this a show of creativity of V1's part?)

Do you think the machines of ULTRAKILL would be envious? Envious that these little drones get to have freewill? That they were designed with intelligence and the ability to express it? Would a Mindflayer be jealous of the pre-built feminine forms of V or J? Would V2 be jealous of the Disassembly Drones and their ability to regenerate? As they never have to scavenge for parts in order to have two working arms? Would V1 be jealous of the voiceboxes the Drones have? Because they are organic sounding and fluid? (We are assuming here that V1 has the SAMS system voice they are commonly portrayed as having.)

Most of all, would a Machine be jealous of the abundance of resources the Drones have? That they don't have to explore the deepest pits of Hell, leaving behind a war-ravenged wasteland that was once Earth? That they can have society instead of constant war? That even though some Drones have to consume oil to live, that it can be consumed anytime? That they don't have to fear for when the fresh stuff runs dry? Would a Machine harbor hatred that these Drones have been blessed by humans with their intelligence, while it had been cursed unintentionally?

And especially, what would the Drones think. What would they think of these barbaric creatures? What would they think when the steel is cut and they see the pulsing flesh and blood underneath? What would they think of the cold optic of V1 or V2, knowing that there is a thinking and feeling mind behind it. Would they think of them as monsters? Beasts? Demons? Or would it be similar to a human seeing an alien? Unfamiliar and frightening, especially when they show the ability to communicate.

Or, you know, you could have V1 explaining how an ULTRARICOSHOT works to Uzi and effectively making her railcannon more dangerous, that works too.

[rhinocio]

(2-3/?)

first - series

--

気楽 に行こう. (kiraku ni ikou) - Take it easy. だいじょぶです! (daijoubu desu) - It's okay! ご愁傷様です,弟. (go-shūshō-sama desu, ototo) - I'm sorry for your loss, little brother. あなた は 一人 じゃない. (anata wa hitori ja nai) - You are not alone. 弟 (ototo) - Younger brother 濱戸リア (hamato lea) - Lea Hamato はじめまして, 弟. (hajimemashite, ototo) - Nice to meet you, little brother.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Caranthir at the annual Feanorian strategy meeting: You know, we could just chuck it all and turn to piracy. It would be a LOT easier.