#kid scientist

[joculine]

diversity win! this spider is forcefemming its prey!

(full article)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.

"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"

This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.

Both he and his parents had been arrested.

Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.

Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.

Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.

He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.

Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.

The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.

Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.

Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 102

 Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-” 

 Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well. 

 “You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together. 

  “And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up. 

 Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-

 “You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.” 

 Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this. 

 “Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling. 

 “-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling? 

 All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members. 

 “And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with. 

 “... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting. 

 Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.

[radiance1]

There was a new cafe open in Gotham.

Such thing would usually not be a problem whatsoever, except for the fact that the family that ran said bakery just appeared out of nowhere one day. No one knew who they were, not where they came from.

The two parents- Mr. and Mrs. Fenton seemed to be the usual case of brilliant scientists about to snap and go crazy, and yes, everyone who visited said store waited with baited breath for said thing to happen.

Except, it never did.

They were just being your normal (as you can get in Gotham) run of the mill parents taking care of their two kids while simultaneously running a bakery.

Almost made them feel silly for waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in Gotham you could never be too sure.

Their oldest child, Jasmine Fenton passed college with flying colors, and seemed to be your normal run of the mil teenage girl busy with taking care of school and stuff.

Their youngest and last child- Danny Fenton- was a bit of an enigma, to be honest. He didn't seem to be going to school, instead staying and helping run his parents' bakery alongside- or alone when they were busy with something else- his parents. The room noticeably got colder whenever he was around, his touch colder than the normal human should be, his breath a tad too cold whenever he was speaking over someone's shoulder, and his teeth literal fangs.

They assume him to be a meta, and if he didn't already have parents would have assumed him to be Mr. Freeze's long-lost child or something.

Everyone was determined to treat them like a normal family, maybe a tad weird but honestly, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say there was something weird about everyone who lived in Gotham.

They were just a normal family, maybe have a past they're running from, who are the Gothamites to judge. At least, until they were attacked by one of Gotham's rouges.

The daughter was at school, well out of the fire zone.

Ms. Fenton calmly rang out a bell on the counter, while Mr. Fenton didn't even stop from where he was carrying multiple people's orders (with the help from small green beings the Fenton's call blob ghosts) and then out from the ceiling appeared what looked like extremely high-tech weapons and without a second's delay were they fired, the villain was not killed, but were knocked out cold.

Then their son appeared from the kitchen, dusting his hands off on his apron, calmly walked to the villain and proceeded to throw them out of the establishment as easy as breathing and walk back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

They knew there was another shoe just waiting to drop, and drop it did. They're just glad it wasn't the result of another villain added to the rogue's ranks.

And hey, they'll be turning a blind eye for as long as they could when said family makes some of the best pastries and meanest cups of coffee in Gotham.

(Two days after that was it made known that their daughter pulled out one of those same high-tech guns on the Red Hood.)

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DP x DC Prompt: The Watchlist

Batman has a watchlist. A list that contains every individual who could become a rouge and a contingency plan for if they did.  

And while they, his children, often make fun of his paranoia and him for having it, they totally understand why he did. They lived in Gotham, for Christ's sake. Where everyone’s just a pin drop away from being the city’s next big villain, forcing the bats to scratch their heads while playing cat and mouse with a sicko for a good few weeks. And while they won’t admit it, the list has helped them a few times. 

But that won’t stop them from making fun of any of the list’s new developments. Because you see, there was a new list. And it wasn’t just a watchlist. No, no, no. It was The Watchlist.

It was a new development after he and Robin went on an out-of-state mission to investigate some town in bum fuck nowhere Illinois. And it was under some pretty tight security as well, so they were expecting something good, like mad scientists or evil mayors. Not profiles of the kids who lived in the town. And while there were a few metas and vigilantes that made the list interesting, by the end of it all they just seemed to be teenagers. 

Until they saw Damian. They hadn’t seen him since he came back from the mission with B. He looked tired. Like ‘Tim hasn’t slept in a week and is surviving on just coffee beans’ tired.

“Ah, I see you all have found it. Good. A few of them will be arriving next week as they’re a part of Gotham Academy’s student exchange program. At least three of them will be staying in the manor with us. Father will need you all to be on standby and to be ready for any possible scenario. Please, for the love of all that is good, do not encourage them in any way, shape, or form. And please do not dismiss them either. The outcome of doing that will be much worse. Is there more that I should add? Yes. Will I? No, because you won’t understand. Not until you've seen what I have.” 

The demon child sighed, then looked them dead in the eyes. “Godspeed to us all.” Then walked away.

Okay, they were scared now.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Breaking the Formula - Han Jisung

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: scientist! Han Jisung x fem! reader

summary: Dr. Han Jisung takes his experiments very seriously. He's close to understanding the science behind human pheromones until one of the beakers breaks all over him and he soon finds himself consumed with an insatiable need...

warnings: pheromones! primal behavior, rough sex, breeding, toxic male

a/n: this is different from the usual stuff I write but now y'all get a glimpse into what a sci-fi nerd boy I am ^.^ I hope you enjoy!!

Dr. Jisung pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was exhausted. His entire body ached. He pushed his glasses up into his hair and sighed deeply.

“What am I missing?” He groaned into the palms of his hands.

He glanced over the papers scattered across his desk. His lips moved as he whispered the different formulas aloud. His finger trailed across each line of data.

Simultaneously, his phone lit up and showed your name. He squinted at the screen and positioned his glasses back onto his nose. You asked if you had left your notes in his lab. He sighed heavily and stood up to have a look around.

You had been assisting him in this pheromone experiment for months now. And while he would never admit it, you were a pretty decent assistant. He was never good at interacting with people, especially with people as physically attractive as you were, but conversing with you came easily to him. He genuinely enjoyed your company. You had invited him out for drinks one evening a few weeks ago. He remembered the night clearly in his mind. You had asked so casually. He knew he couldn't do it. Couldn't speak to you in a familial way. So he declined.

Dr. Jisung continued to search his lab until he finally came across your notebook, laying there next to his most recent test subject. An unassuming plant. The Orchidaceae. Or a common orchid plant. This plant was the perfect test subject for what he wanted to accomplish. The orchid had an uncanny ability, their flowers resemble female wasps, and they emit a potent chemical that mimics the sex pheromone of the female wasp. This draws in the male wasp and makes it almost powerless to the desire to procreate.

He wanted to test this pheromone’s power and ability on other creatures and see how the brain neurons respond. But so far, the pheromone hasn't worked on anything besides other plants. Dr. Jisung grabbed your notebook and made his way back to his phone to tell you the discovered news. But something caught his eye. A number in the formula he had designed. But the number was misplaced, or miswritten… he stared at the formula for a long while.

“It couldn't be…could it?” His mind felt like it was being supercharged.

He quickly ran over to the concentrated liquids that he had isolated earlier from the orchid. He followed the formula exactly like before but with one differential factor. And all of a sudden, the normal blue solution he had come to expect was suddenly purple now. His eyes widened as he stared long and hard at the beaker in his hand.

“...is this it?” He mumbled softly, almost entranced with the liquid inside. He couldn't take his eyes off of it…

Bzz! Bzzt!

His cellphone. The vibrator broke his concentration and in turn broke the beaker he was holding. He cursed as the beaker broke onto the table, causing the liquid inside to pour out into his lap. The thick, purple ooze dripped over the edge of the table and onto his stomach and groin area.

“Shit!” Dr. Jisung shouted. He was so busy mourning the loss of his possible discovery, he didn't think about the effect this purple ooze was having on his body, not until it was already too late.

Dr. Jisung stood up from his desk and attempted to wipe the liquid from his lap. He looked down and the floor began to twist and turn a bit beneath his feet. He blinked a few times to attempt to regain his composure. He glanced down at his lap to see the purple solution completely absorbed into his clothes, not a trace to be seen.

His head suddenly began to pound and pulsate at an alarming rate, causing him to yell out in pain. A strange heat was pooling in the core of his stomach. He felt extremely… euphoric. Even though he was dizzy and wobbling while he walked, Dr. Jisung knew he had done it. Well, he knew you had done it and he had to call you and tell you the good news. He clumsily dialed your number and waited for you to answer.

“Hello…?”

“W-we did it! You have…have to get here…now. Test. Brain…” Dr. Jisung tried with all his might to communicate what he needed to say. Thankfully you understood, or somewhat understood, and told him you'd be there as soon as you could.

Dr. Jisung sighed in relief. He held himself steady against his desk, waiting for you to arrive.

However, when you did arrive, an intoxicating aroma traveled with you. You opened the door to the lab swiftly and stood there for a moment. Dr. Jisung's eyes hastily glued to your body as you entered the room. His brain, still somewhat in charge, pleaded with him to stay in control. Pleaded and begged not to let these urges get the best of him.

But that voice was speaking softer and softer the closer you got to him. So close now that he could practically feel the heat coming off of your body now.

“Stay…stay back…” he moaned as you continued to step closer. His moral fiber was clearly breaking and fraying with each new step you took towards him.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the pained look on Dr. Jisung's face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Dr. Jisung backed away from you slowly, even though all he wanted to do was throw you onto his desk and taste you. God, how he wanted to taste you. He always imagined you tasted sweet, with just a hint of salt. He could smell your shampoo when you two would work together. He would close his eyes and take a deep breath and hold you there in his lungs.

You watched as Dr. Jisung backed away from you. You looked his body up and down to try to assess if he was hurt or not. Your eyes roamed over his waist and the growing appendage that was laying underneath. Dr. Jisung followed your eyesight and quickly saw what you were looking at. His face immediately turned a dark shade of red from embarrassment and arousal.

“I think you figured it out…the formula.” Dr. Jisung spoke in a husky, low tone.

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine. You slowly started to step towards him again. Not only were the pheromones working on him, but they were starting to do something to you as well. You continued your movement towards him, slowly but surely.

Dr. Jisung tensed for a moment, worried you didn't quite understand what was happening to him, until you started to get closer. He could see the fire burning in your eyes that reflected his own. You looked so goddamn incredible. And that small shred of moral fiber he had left had finally broken apart the moment your hand reached out to touch his.

You leaned in first, pressing your lips softly against his. He lets out a soft gasp, his lips tingling at the slight touch of your own against them. He's impatient though, so he can't help but lean his head forward, trying to kiss you deeper, trying to feel more of your lips against his. He just wants to feel you however he can, and as much as he can.

He grabs your waist and easily picks you up on top of his desk. He presses his body into yours aggressively as he begins to climb on top of you. Never breaking the kiss, you buck your hips into his as he completely envelops you with his body. He whines into your mouth, his mind completely fuzzy with pleasure. He just wants as much of you as he can get, wants to feel the heat of your skin, the weight of his body as he continues to press into you.

Jisung grips your thigh and pulls it up around his waist, his other hand already undoing his belt as his eyes stay fixated on you. All he can think about is mating. Mating. Mating. Mating. He needs it. He needs to make you his. His eyes are dark and primal as he finally, slowly, slides his cock out of his pants and lines it up with your entrance. The rips your panties away as if they were tissue paper, a primal growl escaping his lips as he does.

He holds the base of his cock and slowly slides it inside of your wet hole. The instinctually whimpers that pour from his lips are almost animalistic as he hastily begins pumping his hips into you.

You gasp sharply at the initial speed, gripping the edge of the desk for stability. Jisung grabs your shirt and uses it to pull himself further and deeper inside of you. His mind completely consumed with thoughts of filling your womb until his seed pools out of you onto the desk.

Grunts and groans are the only thing that comes from his mouth as he concentrates on fulfilling his need as the fertile male. You continue to moan and writhe on ecstasy beneath him, your mind and body overwhelmed with the pheromones you both share now.

Jisung's pumping rhythm hits a climactic high and ultimately ends with an explosive finish. He holds you by your waist until he has pushed everything out of him and into you. His body, now empty, feels weak and pliant. He falls down onto the desk next to you, the two of you still trying to catch your breath. He turns his head toward you and you do the same, the two of you look at each other for a long while until Jisung finally speaks.

“Go again?”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcorecan @skz-smut-reader

[naffeclipse]

A sort of mad scientist AU where Y/N is, of course, a mad scientist. You suffer from chronic illness and you are desperate to make your experiments work but you struggle without help. You refuse to take on a human assistant out of a desire to not be treated as lesser--as if you can't conduct great, horrific experiments like the other crazed scientists. You stubbornly set yourself to work without any such succor in your tower and the days pass, wearing heavily on your soot marked hands and aching, waning body.

A solution appears right at your feet one evening while rummaging around for some material in the grimy streets (dead animals, toxic waste--the usual to carry out unethical tests) and discover two abandon animatronics in the back alley, left to rot and turn to rust. There's close to zilch hope for the two but you're not a mad scientist for no reason. You drag the endoskeletons home before prompting collapsing for a day or two after overextending yourself and paying the price.

Once you get your strength back (and cursing your weakness) you turn all your effort to cleaning and preparing the endoskeletons. The celestial model of the animatronics would be helpful in your work, no? One after the solar ball of gas which beams heat and light onto the world and the other after the gray rock which brightens the night and tugs on the tides. Sun and Moon. You solder wires and revamp the servos. You hold and handle the limbs and heads of the animatronics as if they were sleeping. Soon, they will wake.

There's just one problem. They need a spark. Not a bit of ember from fire or the first crack of electricity from a splitting fork of lightning. A spark of life. And you contain such material within yourself. It's dangerous to lord over life and play god, but you need them.

The night storms when you prepare the animatronics with their chassis open, lying down on tables. You are steady despite the buzz in your veins in the face of the most dangerous experiment you have conducted yet. With these two are your side, there will be many to come. You spill your blood, split away two pieces of your pulsing core, and set two tiny sparks of life from your beating heart into the animatronics. Your head spins with pain and hope. The hum of servos whirling to life touches your eardrums. A great rumble of thunder shakes the tower. Your vision is slowly swallowed by darkness as you start to collapse but before you fall, two glowing pairs of eyes open.

When you wake, you're in your bed, in the dark, and your chest is bandaged. You hardly have the strength to touch the blood-stains soaking into the gauze but a silver and blue hand stops you. Red eyes pierce you at your bedside, a dark personage holding your wrist. Standing on the other end of your bed is a tall figure with ghostly pale optics falling over you. Dread fills your marrow at what exactly you brought back from death. A raspy voice raises a question. Who are you?

The animatronics. They're alive. They want answers, and you are more than willing to supply them. You give a very detailed, breathy response about how this all came to be, and when you propose that they become your assistants in your endeavors, they silently share a glance and nod in unison.

Though you fear you got off to a rough start with them putting you into bed after making sure your heart was still beating, they prove to be everything you want—and more. They have no desire to return to whoever tossed them to the street and left them as scrap metal, and you finally have extra hands to hold together metal contraptions and nimble fingers to set the exact scalpel blade size you need in your hand when cutting into a carcass.

They do not infantilize you in your sickness, much to your aching relief. Sun, however, is poignant in reminding you that pushing yourself past your energy capability, such as walking into town and dragging back a metallic frame for a killing contraption, will result in you needing a day of recovery. Moon sharply remarks that willingly subjecting yourself to an overnight of experimenting with beating hearts and lightning strikes will most likely cause a pain flare, but they never stop you. They never decide for you. They see you—not the unending illness clawing at your edges and leaving its marks on your flesh.

Though you learn to manage yourself better—for science, of course. You request Sun's assistance for lifting heavy plates into place before you bolt and screw them down. He's all too cheerful to lend a hand. When it grows late, you allow Moon to lead you to bed before the fire in your muscles becomes a roaring inferno. He tells you softly that he's been recording the number of good and bad days you have, and that your flare-ups don't appear as often when you have a full night's rest. Your assistants are pleased—with the improvement in your experiments, of course.

It's rare, but sometimes you'll catch an odd sentence or two from Sun about where they were before, and how much nicer it is here. You give them much. You don't shout or throw things at them. He lays a hand over his chassis and smiles. Moon will look at you sometimes, and when you ask why he's staring, he says that you have never raised a hand to them. It's strange. He thought all mad scientists were the same. He's glad to be wrong.

You're glad they're with you too. Your science has never been madder and you don't lay through bad days alone anymore. You don't like talking about your chronic illness. The discussions you've had in the past with peers and professors revolved around how you're handling it and what it's doing to you today. Can you still do your work? It's not mad or experimental or new—it's just sad. Other people think you're sad and pitiful, and you would rather die trying to conduct a hazardous experiment than ever stop to tend to yourself.

Sun and Moon learn to take your mutters and curses in stride when another flare-up hits. They ask questions occasionally, wondering how long you've lived with this and if it would ever be cured but they seem to already suspect the answer. Sure, you've tried several times to manufacture an antidote to whatever poison sits in your veins, but such endeavors have only ended with you waking up, lying in your own vomit. They don't give you pity, not like the others have. No, Sun holds your hand between his large digits and asks if you've eaten anything yet. Moon touches your shoulder when you stare out of the circular window in your tower and asks if he can walk you to your bed.

They need you, and they know what great work you're doing here, crafting weapons of mass destruction, simmering glowing liquids, and putting together new creations—not like them, no. Nothing compares to your assistants.

[alex-num-17566]

DC X DP Prompt-ish

Jazz canonically uses a grappling hook in the episode Fanning the Flames to get to Ember's concert, so, in theory, were she to visit Gotham or live there, she could totally show up the vigilantes on their grappling skills.

I'm just imagining her deciding to grapple to the library for a late night study session and swinging past a bat. They're looking into some criminal organisation and a civilian swings by without a care in the world.

Or, one of the bats is on the roof of her apartment and she doesn't realise it before she deploys the grappling hook and sets off.

[ivydoesit23]

Im just waiting for all the smut rambles about the kids today…

[dovewingkinnie]

poppy playtime should add a evil scientist for their next villain and im not saying that because it would be hot no :( im saying that ebcause it would be hot

[placeholddog]

the stranger things phone game from 2017 is solid actually

[little-pondhead]

Inspired by this post.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 209

Now Jason was planning on, well, a lot of things, when he came back to Gotham. He had a lot of plans, several of which had to do with the old man and even more that had to do with cleaning up Crime Alley, making it safer and all that. 

What he was not planning on was to find some sort of lab in the basement of where he was planning on setting up a safehouse. Nor was he planning on finding several literal children in cages inside said lab. Oh and Lazarus Waters- but children! With muzzles! Being experimented on!

Now he’d like to say he had a plan in what happened next, but if he’s honest everything had gone Green and he didn’t remember what happened next, only that he’s back home with said children and covered in blood. Oh and everything smells of smoke. 

… And apparently there’s more of these things dotted around Crime Alley with the rest of these kids, er, siblings? Family? Fright does mean family? Okay kids, he’s not turning into Bruce but you can stay here while he deals with this… however long that takes. 

He better not be turning into Bruce he swears-

[fanartsandstuff]

"This song do not work well with *insert platonic/romantic ship* ! Their dynamic in the canon is so much different ! "

Well it works perfectly fine with my animation in my head full of my silly headcanons and AU's so-

[nelkcats]

Not the son you were looking for

The Fentons were sure that their son was dead. They didn't understand why Phantom pretended to be their little Danny, nor why he made so many illogical excuses like "being a hybrid" and so on. At first they played along, but they were angry, angry that the truth was being kept from them, angry because they were sure that the supposed hero had done something to their son, and he even managed to trick Jazz!

It all made sense when Phantom was declared Ghost King, of course, he surely had Danny captive! It shouldn't be hard for the King of the Dead to manipulate a soul, maybe he was gaining power from that. They were sure, they had seen the King argue with one of his ghost-capturing devices and keep it always guarded, a big secret surely.

Unfortunately for them, the GIW had disbanded, so they had to turn to their second choice: The Justice League. It was an organization of heroes that had only recently formed, but the Fenton's were sure they would help them, so they contacted them and explained the situation. The League was skeptical but when they heard that a child might be in danger they acted immediately.

They didn't confront the King directly, they weren't idiots, but they stole the thermos, willing to give the child trapped in it a break. They could deal with the Ghost King later.

Unfortunately for everyone, as soon as the Fentons hit the "release" button what came out was not their son's soul, no. Dan Phantom watched them with a wide grin, free for the first time in years. The League had a feeling they had made a grave mistake.

[marisol-000]

Some sketches I did of the glass scientists as kids!!!!!

The face of a man given full permission to cut someone's hair with safety scissors

Kid Henry and Edward were definitely the kind to put random stuff in a bucket and call it a potion😊

Rachel was one of those kids who actually liked cleaning

Robert definitely got the most love letters in school XD