#sorry i just like the nickname

[monofazz]

I think Deceptibee AU fans should consider the hilarious potential of a Starscream and Bee dynamic in this kind of situation—

[kermdoeswriting]

Just Like You

It was supposed to be a normal vacation.

Just a road trip around the east coast with his best friends and his older sister before the 3 of them all separated to their respective universities.

No dangerous ghosts to fight or trap in the Ghost Zone. No GIW to hide from. And best of all, no needing to show off his ghost side for any danger.

For once Danny got to just relax and let the heroes handle everything! And he has got to say, it was definitely something he wishes he could do more often.

There was no way anything could happen, right?

WRONG

Danny honestly should have known the calm wouldn't have lasted very long. Being a halfa tends to bring unwanted attention from the dead no matter where he ends up going. And it wasn't like he could just go and turn this ability off.

They had originally combatted that by avoiding the more ghost infested cities. Places like Gotham, Bludhaven, Ivy Town, etc. And while it did suck to take those places off of their schedule it was genuinely for the betterment of their No Ghosts Allowed (Except Danny) Trip.

But even that didn't really stop the dead from approaching, unfortunately.

He had died and the dead tended to be interested in how he managed to shake that death title off to still be alive. At least half way, anyways.

Danny didn't mind the curiosity but it was kind of irritating to deal with as the vacation continued on. That was why he had no real regrets for glaring down a girl, who was very obviously a ghost in her solid form, as she scanned him over from the other side of the street.

Despite this, the girl didn't seem to care. She continued to try peering into his core from across the street, trying to see what exactly was off about him and it was pissing Danny off to no end. Her friends, a dark haired teenage boy wearing Superman merch and a blonde girl with pigtails, tugged on her shoulder and arm to try and snap her out of it but it didn't do much.

With no real warning for his friends and sister, he took off straight to the girl and her friends table and stared back at her even more. He knew they'd be following behind him anyways, they always did.

"Can I help you?" He glowered, eyes pinched together as she seemed to finally come to a conclusion to whatever she was thinking about now that he was at the table with them.

The girl breezed through the table before Danny could even blink, floating above him for a second before she started to circle him excitedly.

"You're just like me!" The girl brightened at the sight of him, before turning to look at her group of friends and gesturing to him again. "Birdie he's like me!"

Danny could only stiffen as all eyes around the table turned to look over him and a different black haired teen eyed him suspiciously, presumably Birdie, as he nodded.

"Yeah Suz," Danny heard the boy agree alongside the approaching footsteps of his own family getting close behind him.

"Just like you"

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

Or Basically

Danny is on vacation in Rhode Island with his family and the Young Justice team are out eating lunch as civilians for once when Secret (the teams resident ghost girl) realizes she isn't the only kinda dead person able to walk between life and death nearby.

[hoshizoralone]

they use the “xiao-“ prefix w lil mac in chn

[illmoraineakoi]

Black outlined by red

Hmm...

Now where have we seen that before?

Methinks Dark might have taken some inspirations...

[calmlb]

can we as a society please stop calling Dazai the “demon prodigy” like it’s canon??? IM BEGGING

his canon nickname is so underused too… i mean c’mon, the “black wraith of the Port Mafia??” idk if i’ve ever even seen it used in a fic 😭

[indywasdeepfried]

I have the biggest crush on Henry

So here’s a few doodles :]

Oughhh eeping and dreaming about his business partner .. 🤨

[pinkeoni]

Hmm do you ever sit and think about Will Byers was made of for being sensitive and effiminate so when he was “killed” he was seen as a weak fairy for being a victim but when it turned out that he had lived they changed their tune and decided to refer to him a predatory monster who spreads disease, even though nothing about him had really changed? There is no version of him that is palatable for Hawkins.

[crybaby-bkg]

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Want me to kiss it where it hurts?” Kirishima purrs up at you, his place between your thighs seemingly the closest thing he can get to ascension. His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out, any red swallowed up by the lust pooling in his eyes. he looks like the picture of adoration and worship, all faux worry and pure hunger as he bounces between your gaze and the pretty picture that twitches in front of his face. his eyes cross to watch the slick ooze from your hole, sighing.

“It’s the least you could do for me,” you pout to him, running your nails through his soft locks, tugging a little meanly at the root. “After using me like a toy on your cock for so long.” Your words are sighed wistfully, your eyes betraying just how much you want his mouth on you as he wants to taste you. Kiri moans at that, quiet and in the back of his throat, but you hear it none the less.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he repents, but it’s all for naught when his tongue laves over your sensitivity and doesn’t let up until you’re crying from the overstimulation once more. he’s so sorry—that you can only cum so many times before you tap out. he’s so sorry—that your thighs are more sore from tightening up around his head than his working jaw. he’s so sorry—that you’re so addicting, that he can lay between your legs until his last breath leaves him.

[sunnixsunshine]

AAAAAH SORA ATTACK

Three fun facts:

Her kimono is supposed to match with Sanji’s for the most part and her cute dress is what she wore while in wci arc—because yeah they kinda kidnapped her as further leverage over Sanji in this au :(…. (Of which I intend to write once I really catch up to wci and wano lol trying to read ahead is hard to do while working). Sora and the twins, Shinjiro(blond) and Takehiko(green), have a ten year age gap—also bonus fact, the twins are supposed to be premature, being born roughly around 35 weeks, which isnt even uncommon for twins in the first place, but I have nooooo idea how to really depict that because babies are hard to draw as isssssss lmao

[moeblob]

Warning for: The (spider) legs showing below!

Under the hoodie/layers, she tends to wrap her legs around her kinda like a hug! And so in the first part that's the weird bumps under the hoodie. They're starting to unravel a bit. She hates being called a monkey cause it's NOT her fault she's short and has to climb on things and up things and includes people in "things" category.

[beastking-golion]

I wonder if, post Temperance, any of V's friends visit the columbarium to see a family member or loved one only to spot a new niche with V's name on it.

[illdothehotvoice]

Mario had two fucking partners die in PMTOK and I know Paper Mario likes to do that a lot but for some reason these ones hit different for me and I feel like no one gives it nearly as much attention as we should.

[amanitacurses]

more linkshipping? hmm... little odd as an experiment, but what about spirit and sacred? (hopefully i got the names right djzngdiddb)

You got the names right!

Spirit proceeded to have the midlife crises ever (and also bit anyone who tried to take it off)

[veifei]

body for rent (at the end of the line)

(or a VeiFei ficlet in which Xia Fei agrees, to something. it's all subtext and suggestion, really — read into it however you like)

The underground roars as the train cuts through a long tunnel and engulfs the train carriage in momentary darkness — Vein's stare like a laser piercing Xia Fei's skull, intruding, unyielding; he says something Xia Fei doesn't catch, something swallowed by the screech of the train.

His ears pop from the air pressure. Vein's hand settles on Xia Fei's knee, like it has always belonged there. Still, the carriage shrouded in little light, still, the words caught in his throat — he swallows them with an easy smile. Vein's cool cologne — eucalyptus? — dizzying him as he leans in close, fingers pressing and digging into his jeans. Xia Fei tips his head closer, until Vein's lips ghost the shell of his ear, breath warm, words low:

"I said, just how willing are you, sweetheart?" his voice drips with sweet venom.

"Well... I'll do exactly as you like, Vein." 

At that, he grins, wide enough that the yellow flickering lights catching his too sharp canines. The glint in his eye is animal, Xia Fei knows. But he can't stand to look away. Under Vein's watchful, hungry gaze, he might just shine. Might be seen. 

"A-Xiao was right — you are the perfect little doll."

Out of the dark now, bouts of daylight fall in and out the near empty carriage. They're coming towards the end of the line.

Xia Fei does know the risk, but he leans in anyway, eager for the reward.

[pareidolla]

hunted? for the thingy thing ? ive liked your thoughts about him so far :))

ohh hunted, the certified darling. i really like him a lot, and i find it surprising he was the most unpopular voice until broken overtook him and bumped up to the second place. i suppose the reason for this is that he's more "forgettable" than actively despised, as i've only ever heard one person express their disdain for him. i'm hoping pristine cut shines more of a spotlight on him and beast cos they really deserve it!

speaking of bumping up, i really think once i sit down and begin studying his character properly he'll officially be one of my favorite voices. he's darling tier right now, yes, but i feel like i don't quite grasp understand his character yet. theres many reasons i want to though! first, the voice johnny sims provided him is so soft and lovely, one of my favorites. aecond, i'm so interested in his place within the long quiet and tbe narrative. third, the wild routes my beloved.

and listen, i would never hurt him⸻bro deserves to sit on his farm petting all his sheep⸻but wild? his parallels with opportunist??? i'm biting, i'm biting, i'm BITING-

[smytherines]

I had a lot of fun writing this one. I think reintegrated Tatiana Slozhno sort of necessitates a different style of writing than what I usually do, so I got to be very spontaneous and informal with it and just get out of my own way for once, and I'm really happy with the result

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What is or was the color of your mother's eyes?

She blinks. She doesn't know. She blinks again. Shouldn't she know? The voice on the intercom is cheery, and the room she's in is clean and well-appointed, and shouldn't she know the color of her mother's eyes?

Panic curls in her stomach and dread creeps up her spine as she realizes she cannot remember. She can't remember her name. She can't remember picking out the blouse and skirt and heels she is wearing. She can't remember how she got here, or where here is, or what here is. 

The voice on the intercom says something, but she can't hear it. She launches herself at the door again, banging at it until her fists are sore. Screaming. Begging to be let out. Threatening and cajoling, kicking until the toes of her dark blue pumps are scuffed and deformed.

The voice on the intercom speaks again, but all she can think about is leaving. She steps out of one mangled shoe, holding it in her hand like a weapon, ready to strike the moment the door--

"Jesus, what the fuck?" It's Curt. His voice is high and loud and alarmed. Curt is here in front of her. In his house, his hands held up in front of his face like he's about to be--

Tatiana notices the boot in her hand, inches away from smashing into him. But that can't be right. She was just... 

Shit. Reghabi told her to stay put, but she had to see him. Curt. Her friend, Curt M. 

Mega. His name is Curt Mega. 

And he's staring at her, equal parts confused and irritated, because while she knows him, he does not know her. For part of her, he's the only friend she has. For part of her, he's a stranger. For this version of him, she's nothing but the lunatic who accosted him at the automat.

Her head hurts.

She slowly lowers the boot until she ends up dropping it onto the floor. Curt relaxes, sort of. He runs his hands through his hair. He checks it a lot, or at least the other one did. 

But it is him. Not the same him, but it looks like him, and talks like him, and has the same red-rimmed eyes as him. So it must be him. And if it's him, she can trust him. If it's him, she'll be safe. 

Tatiana follows him down the stairs, into the basement, watches as he takes the cover off of a large brown couch and hands her a sleeping bag. And the whole time she can still hear it in her head.

What is or was the color of your mother's eyes?

She doesn't know.

"Well-- uhhh--," One of his hands rubs anxiously at the other, "you can sleep down here tonight. And tomorrow we can..." He nods, but doesn't finish.

The basement is sparse, just the couch and a few boxes piled up, but it's warm. And she is so tired. 

There's a cigarette case-- silver filigree-- and a matching lighter on the little makeshift table near the couch. She reaches for it on impulse, because who wouldn't want a cigarette after the night she's had? Curt snatches it off the table, clutching it to his chest. 

"I wouldn't have taken you for a smoker," she manages. She can spot nicotine stains better than most. She was trained to be observant. 

"I'm not." His face twists uncomfortably. "It's... someone I knew."

Curt opens the case reflexively, clearly familiar with it. He examines the contents carefully. And finally, reluctantly, he hands her a cigarette and lights it for her. The case and the lighter go into his pocket. 

"I always wondered why you were so sad." She takes a drag. The tobacco is old and stale, and it stings her lungs. 

"What do you mean?" Curt asks, his voice oddly low and rumbling, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs the same way her friend does. Restlessness spilling out of him like a pot boiling over.

"Down there." She takes another drag, the pain in her head overwhelmed by lightheadedness and nausea. "Sometimes when you came in, your eyes--"

She ashes her cigarette.

"You're even sadder here." Tatiana finishes quietly. 

He looks away like he knows.

Tatiana wonders if that is the kind of thing you're only supposed to say to a friend. It's been so long, she must've forgotten the rules.

Curt clears his throat. He won't meet her eyes now.

"Okay, well... if you need anything I'll be upstairs."

Upstairs with the empty liquor bottles. Upstairs with the reason why Curt M. always smells of alcohol, why he shakes and sweats at the end of the day. Upstairs with whatever thing is haunting him. She knows the feeling well.

What is or was the color of your mother's eyes?

She still can't remember. She isn't sure if she ever knew. How old do you have to be to remember a detail like that? 

If she thinks carefully, she can remember golden red hair shining in the sun, a faint melody ringing in her ears, deft fingers braiding her hair.

She can remember the state facility, with its grey walls and the stench of antiseptic. The way light twisted and warped the dark hallways. 

She can remember the sweater with her initials hand-stitched into the collar, burned in front of her for failing an objective.

She can remember the people she has killed and the ways that she killed them. 

She can remember taking a job with Chimera to protect a family which exists only vaguely in the corners of her memory.

What is or was the color of your mother's eyes?

But not that.

Curt is fiddling with the boxes, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how.

Tatiana takes a final inhale, stubbing the cigarette to save the other half for morning. She crawls into the sleeping bag, pulling it up over half her face. She wants to disappear in it. She wants to go back. 

She hears Curt moving something as her eyes drift closed.

When she opens her eyes it is pitch black. 

She struggles out of the blankets, wearing her older brother's boots with newspaper stuffed inside them, and even in her coat and her boots she is the coldest she has ever been. 

She can just barely make out the shape of the room now. She creeps along, hands held out in front of her, needing to find her way out. 

She steps into the doorway and she can see a faint light. One of the kitchen chairs her grandfather made is in the fireplace turning to ash. She moves toward it in a trance. It looks warm.

"Tanechka, you should be in bed." Her mother's golden red hair takes on the glow from the fire as she approaches.

She kneels down in front of Tatiana, and sweeps her hair back, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

What is or was the color of your mother's eyes?

She watches as Curt's shadow disappears up the steps, and she whispers.

"Blue."