#they end up getting adopted

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Baby Formula

Dp x Dc Crossover

Duke was having a slow day when he heard the cry of outrage just across the street. He sees the store owner let go of the little kid he had latched onto and pull his hand close to his chest. The kid picked up the box he dropped and turned quickly to sprint away on tiny legs.

“He bit me!” The man screams as he stares angrily after the boy.

Instead of his training to intercept the thief and return the stolen merchandise, Duke follows his gut feeling and just tails the running boy.

From what he can see, the kid it young, maybe six he guessed (he’s not great with ages that young), with black hair and worn clothes. Homeless most likely, or a run away.

The boy slows down and hides in an alley to check to see if anyone is following. Duke takes this time to jump down in front of him.

Blue, blue eyes snap to him and widen in surprise.

“Hey, kid,” Duke greets casually, still crouched to get closer to his height.

The child shift from foot to foot, obviously debating with himself whether to run or not while eyeing him critically. Not easy to trust. Expected.

“Whatcha got there?”

Little hands grip the box of baby formula closer to his chest reflexively and then hides it behind his back. He shoves the water bottle fuller into the pocket of his too large hoodie.

“Nothin’.”

Duke hums.

“I don’t wanna get you in trouble,” he eases. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” the boy denies immediately.

“You might not, but what about your baby sibling?”

The boy tenses and his eyes narrow dangerously. So Duke was right.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Why should I tell you?” The boy fires back venomously.

Duke shrugs.

“That’s fair. I’m Signal by the way.” No response, not that he was expecting one. “I do need to know that you guys are staying somewhere safe. You’re a really good brother for looking after your baby…”

The boy frowns. “Sister.”

“Your baby sister and getting her formula, but I’m sure you’d also like to be playing instead of stealing. Am I close?”

“I can help take care of Ellie just fine,” the boy defends hotly.

‘Help’. He’s not the only one.

“You can, but you shouldn’t have to. You’re just a kid too. I wanna help make sure you guys are taken care of. Nothing bad will happen if you show me where you guys are staying,” Duke tried to argue calmly.

He hasn’t had much experience with this kind of situation but he needed to make sure they were in a safe place. Child trafficking had gone down after Red Hood made his displeasure known, but it wasn’t nonexistent.

The kid shifts again.

“They’ll split us up if they throw us in foster care. You can’t call CPS. Promise you won’t.”

He didn’t even hesitate.

“I promise I won’t call CPS.”

The boy thrusts his free hand forward with his pinky out.

“Pinky promise,” he insists.

Duke has to lock down the smile that threatens to creep up on him. Professional. He needed to stay professional.

He wraps his gloved pinky around the tiny finger in front of him and reiterates the promise. Greasy, black hair flops as the boy nods sharply in acceptance.

“Okay.”

Duke does smile a bit then. “Okay, lead the way.”

The kid hesitates for a second before shaking his head and huffing. He leads the vigilante through back alleys for quite awhile before they come up to the back of an abandoned building.

The kid turns back to him with his hand on the edge of a piece of plywood blocking the entrance.

Duke couldn’t tell exactly what the boy was thinking, but he knew he was second guessing. However, with the bright glow this kid was giving off that make Duke think he was a meta of some sort, he couldn’t let him walk away.

The boy continues on like he didn’t even pause, pushing the board aside and slipping through the small crack. Duke follows closely behind as they travel through the place that looks like it used to be a restaurant that had burned down. They walk until they make it to the only room with light, a storage room, and find a red headed girl, older than the boy but still young, holding a baby as she boils something on an old burner.

She looks up and freezes when she sees him.

“Don’t freak out,” the boy interrupts.

“Danny,” she says slowly, her teal eyes zeroing in on her little brother. “Why did you bring one of them here?”

‘Danny’ pulls the water and formula forward sheepishly. Her eyes widen.

“Danny,” she says with disapproval.

“Ellie only has one pack left, Jazz, I had to do something.”

“You didn’t have to steal,” Jazz hisses. “Dan will be back with-“

“Yea, well, he forgot last time, so what were we gonna do then, huh?”

Four names. Four kids living in a burned to hell building that he’s surprised is still standing.

The two kids stare each other down until baby Ellie starts squirming and fussing, reaching for Danny. The boy huffs and takes the baby, looking almost comical with how small they both were.

“I wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” Duke said to alleviate the tension in the too small room. “I just want to help.”

“That’s what people say before they call CPS on us and we have to run again,” she glares harshly, standing from the floor. She didn’t even reach his shoulders.

“And I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny adds in a hushed tone.

Studying the other kids in the room, Duke can see that Ellie was as bright as Danny, just a different color, and Jazz only had a slight glow.

“How old is Dan?” He asks.

Jazz puckers her lips like she sucked on a lemon.

“Old enough,” is her answer.

“Nobody is in trouble,” he reassures.

Neither of the siblings answer for a minute, Danny nervously looking between the vigilante and his sister, and Jazz staring Duke down with narrowed eyes.

“He’s sixteen,” Danny confesses.

Jazz shoots him a scalding look, to which the boy shrugs off with no guilt, but doesn’t deny it.

The oldest isn’t old enough, which was what he was thinking, but it still put him in a weird position. Should he call Bruce? He should definitely call Bruce.

Jason would be so much better at this than Duke. The Alley kids love and trust Red Hood, but this technically wasn’t Crime Alley.

“I want to help,” he says.

Jazz folds her arms over her chest and he doesn’t blame her for her suspicion.

“How?”

Yea, he’s working on that.

“Who the f*ck are you?”

The snarl comes from behind him and he whirls around to see a teen that greatly resembles the boy. This must be Dan, but holy macaroni, he didn’t even hear him come in.

“That’s Signal,” Danny says, passing Ellie back to Jazz who takes her and steps back from the angry teen.

“Yea, I can see that. Why is he here?” Dan growls.

Danny squares his shoulders and lifts his chin.

“I brought him.”

Dan snaps his glare from Duke to the little boy.

“You WHAT?” The shout sounds too large in the small room and Ellie immediately starts crying. “What the hell are you tryin’ to do, you little sh*t?”

“Hey,” Duke says firmly, trying to redirect the anger to himself. “I would have followed him anyway, it’s not his fault.”

It doesn’t work because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he’s rounding on Danny again.

“I told you to stay here,” he points at the small boy who looks equally scared and defiant. “What were you doing out there, idiot?”

“You didn’t get formula last time,” Danny emphasizes the ‘you’ heavily. “So I went out and got some. You’re welcome.”

“You little-“

Duke intercepts the bulky teen when he lunges at Danny trying to grab the front of his shirt. From the way Danny backs up quickly, it’s not the first time.

“Knock it off,” Duke growls at the teen. “He’s a kid.”

“He’s a snot-nosed little brat,” Dan snarls at his brother and then turns his ire onto Duke, pushing the vigilante away with a giant shove. “And I’m guessing you’re gonna turn us over to those corrupt social workers, huh? Well good luck.”

“No,” Duke denies with his hands up. “I don’t want to do that. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny insists behind Dan after the teen shifted to stand in front of his siblings.

“Shut up, twerp,” Dan snaps but doesn’t take his eyes off Duke. “Then what do you want, vigilante?”

This situation has escalated.

He lowers his hands to his sides to level with the guy.

“I just want to help,” he states for the umpteenth time calmly.

“Yea? And how you plan to do that?”

Dan has been burned before, Duke could tell. His distrust is valid with what he’s probably experienced in the past, and Duke doesn’t really know how to make the brightly glowing teen calm down and not snap his teeth (fangs? Were those fangs?) at any hand trying to reach out.

“I know a guy,” Duke blurts out. Geez, where was Babs when he needed backup?

“You know a guy,” Dan repeats with healthy doubt.

“He can find you a place to live. A place that isn’t a burnt down pizzeria.”

“You mean a foster home,” Dan glares.

Duke couldn’t really deny that.

“How about I talk to him and maybe we can set up a trial period? How does that sound? He’s got plenty of money and extra rooms to spare. Good food too,” Duke compromises. He hopes it’s enough to sweeten the deal and not set off red flags.

“We have a history with millionaires,” Jazz says with a cautious edge. From the dark look on the boys’ faces he can read it’s not a good kind of history.

“Technically he’s a billionaire,” he couldn’t help but say, “but he’s a good guy. I promise.”

“You’re talking about Bruce Wayne,” the red-head states in realization.

Duke thinks to himself that she would get along great with Barbara and not just because of their similar hair color.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me a little and give him a chance. If it doesn’t work out, he’s found homes for other kids before. He’ll make sure you guys stick together. I know how bad the system is, I get it, just… let me help. Please.”

The others look to Dan, the eldest, to make the decision. He glares hard at Duke, and if he hadn’t stared down actual super villains before, the vigilante might actually be scared.

After several long moments, Jazz speaks up in a hushed tone.

“I think we should try.”

Dan raises his lips in a silent snarl, clearly not liking her opinion, but not outright rejecting it. Danny huddles close to Jazz, gripping her shirt tightly, but looking between Dan’s broad back and Duke only a few feet away hopefully.

“One month,” Dan growls lowly and Duke has to keep the sigh of relief from escaping. “We’ll do this trial period for a month and that’s it. If we want to leave, then we leave and nobody calls the police on us. Got it, Yellowjacket?”

“Got it. I’ll talk to him. Just don’t leave, okay? I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Dan huffs and his eyes shift to the door in silent demand to get the hell out. Duke slowly makes his way over.

“Just don’t take it out on the kid. He was just trying to help,” Duke adds, trying to lessen whatever punishment Dan was going to give Danny after he left.

Dan snarls with, yes those were fangs, “Don’t tell me how to raise my brother.”

Duke lifts his hands to back off and then promptly leaves.

He grapples to the nearest roof and immediately calls Bruce.

“Hey, yea, I’ve got four kids you’re about to take in. You’ve agreed to a month trial because the oldest doesn’t trust the system and they all don’t have a good history with rich people. I’ll have Alfred get their rooms set up, but this is me letting you know. Oh, and one’s a baby so you’ll be paying for all the stuff that comes with that. They’ll be at the manor tomorrow so try to show up. Good talk.”

He left the voicemail as the only method of communication like a true Bat. Next was to actually tell Alfred and hope he doesn’t get the disappointed look, though he doubts he’ll get in trouble for helping out some homeless kids. The biggest obstacle will be Damian, but as long as there is some sort of buffer (i.e. Dick or Duke) it should be fine. Probably.

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[cidnangarlond]

[the-lemon-that-urged-the-lime]

i understand that ragnarock is the funniest thor movie just because,,,,,, it has the most jokes and all of them are hilarious but some of you are ignoring the absolute comedic genius that is thor 1. the entire movie is set off by loki essentially performing a prank on his brother because he thinks he's dumb and doesn't deserve to be king but it backfires so horribly that loki finds out he's adopted from a race of people he was taught to hate and his brother is straight up exiled. and when he tries to talk to his father about this he doesn't want to talk to loki SO much that he falls into a coma and loki becomes king. i cannot stress enough how he just accidentally performed a coup. he literally just played a prank on his brother and ended up on the throne of asgard

[azrail-has-a-vendetta]

I think I need a “Kid Tim Drake gets kidnapped and held for ransom but his parents don’t even pick up the phone so now these criminals are like whelp, this kid is ours now. Sucks to suck.” Fic.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[emacrow]

Orphan's baby

Cass was in the middle of helping the Batfam along with Batman raids through the the hidden base they had found underground lab in an abandoned hospital messing with a neon verison of lararus pits liquid.

Red Robin had already adjacked the security and was going through the files with Spoiler. Nightwing and Red hood beating up the guards while batman was battling with the main boss behind it all.

She was with Robin as they were taking some samples and destroying the remaining ones.

She had already crack through most of seemingly important hidden rooms that seem to be hiding completely full with containers full of lararus pits with tags of PH4N70M, and a winter blue colored marble in a container sealed to the safe that was spelling out electricity every minute in the container.

It looked important, but why a marble..?

She broke the container holding the marble, taking most of the lararus pits containers as well while destroying the remaining unaware of the glow that pulsed in the marble.

By the time is was to retreat, everything was in the clear as Spoiler needed to unscramble hidden files that were behind multiples firewalls.

They were at the batcave when they were securing the containers of lararus pits for later sampling, only for the marble to be missing..?

She was sure that she place it in her bat waist pouch, but it wasn't there anymore..

Did she dropped it accidentally while collecting the containers of larausu pits?

It was already too late to check back now, so she decided not to tell anyone yet.

Until 2 months later, she started feeling downright sick nauseated. Right after Dinner of Alfred's infamous lasagna Tuesday, but.. it tasted a bland which was throwing her off completely.

She was only dropping down by the batcave to just self analysis herself.. only to stop walking half way the secure containement holding all the lararus pits that they brought back..

She couldn't stop herself from staring at it with vast hunger before the swirl of neon green filling her vision and blank her conscience out the window..

Only to wake up in her room on her bed, 3 empty containers with not a inch of lararus pits left inside as if it was wiped-or licked clean. She hide the containers under her bed and stood quiet later on as nobody had noticed yet what she had done.

She doesn't know what had happen, but the nausea and sick feeling went away as if nothing happen.

Hopefully it would be a one time thing...

Bruce and his long lines of lawyers had disbanded the GIW completely over the illegal experimentally on sentient aliens of another world which they tried to label them as ghosts until they tried to accused Superman of being one of them which quickly label their entire Government supported work as hate crime and was steady being searched, along finding a couple of missing traumatized teens, adults and children that had vanished the months before in the other hidden labs.

...

....

.....

She had her head in her hands as she silently groaned when she peak her eyes between her fingers to see several dozen empty containers and immediately close her eyes to try and pretend she didn't see them.

It only been 5 months since that incident and she had seemingly got away with it, but then nausea came back with vengeance like no other, and the increased appetite was new, but yet it didn't filled her belly with the bland taste or satisfaction even though she did felt a bit feint during the couple of night patrols despise feeling energized earlier.

Something was wrong and she know it as she went to the only person who could help her right now.

She went to Alfred straight away silently explaining the situation going on because she honestly have no idea was going on with her and she know she loves his food, and the feint spells, and the monsterous appetite and the insatiable need to swallow a crapton of lararus pits with twelve milkshakes and fourteen bags full bat burgers.

Alfred could only stared with his eyebrows raising slowly with every word spilling out of her mouth.

Alfred helped her get examined in the batcave medbay, and 2 hours later the blood result came in.

Case was pregnant, but It was a almost cryptic pregnancy.

Alfred didn't had the equipment out for a ultrasound at all yet, but from he know from Cass it was during the Raiding of that hidden lab and her being in contacted with this 'marble' that seemingly disappeared after she grabbed it.

That was 7 months ago, but luckily Alfred caught it in time before it literally became a cryptic pregnancy.

Oh the ultrasounds pics of the little baby fetus with his fast beating lil heart beating were precious as he got tiny misty eyes a bit compare to Cass's awestruck look staring at the screen then back at her belly.

He does help get extra vitamins pills, and call her off of Crime duty until further noticed . Bruce on the otherhand was concerned but all he got from Alfred was the You Better not investigate this because I have major blackmail of embarrassing toddler photos against you.

This is Alfred moment that he been waiting for since Bruce became a new adult but not yet sired a baby at the Wayne Manor at all. He is savoring this for the memories and scapebooking time. He is cranking opened that forgotten but clean baby nursery of forlorning hopes.

2 months later, By the time Cass was ready to deliver the baby on February 11, and at February 12th, 12:01am.

Wren Alf Cain was born premature yet crying softly into the word.

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 254

So. Danny might have accidentally become a bit of a cryptid. He didn’t mean to, but he’d become a bit nocturnal- like many an Amity Parker- and it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t be bothered to make sound when he was tired. Or pretend to breathe or, okay, he could see why he kept freaking people out at the grocery store he kept going to. 

But it wasn’t his fault! He has to get food too! And really is it anyone else’s business? Seriously he thought that people wouldn’t be so surprised with how much magic is everywhere. Like you’d think they’d never seen someone who wasn’t fully human before or something. 

Oh great, there’s a journalist at the grocery store now- he’s going to ignore that and finish his shopping and then continue his online work. Ooh, and eat icecream. He deserves it for potentially putting up with this. 

Oh, it’s a little baby reporter, first couple of article thing. Adorable. 

[aroaceleovaldez]

my hot pjo take is that Jason isn't a second Percy, Jason is a second Annabeth. Jason is just if Annabeth was a guy and also a Big 3 kid.

[aratribow]

Jingnyan, aka the husband-replacement cat that renheng adopted

Sesame cake and rice dumpling are respectively called renyan and hengnyan btw and this shit has a whole ass au behind it (with a Mafia origin but that's not important)

I STAN jingnyan being the MOST affectionate nyan ever

Ps: this is renheng getting all the cuddles b4 the renheng-nyan invasion..which...doesn't bode very well for them

[finniigan-fr]

Click for quality (tumblr ate it even though i split the comic into three pics T.T)

Ramdel was raised by a small group of warriors and spies that lived in secrecy near the Seedscar, but was cast out due to his sickly nature. He wandered into Quarantine Zone #128 and well, you can see how that turned out for him...

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

A rough comic for my diseased boy Ramdel <3 He was one of the first dragons i ever got way back when i joined flight rising, so he's near and dear to my heart!

Also ive been meaning to clean this up for ages, but i realised i never will xD so I thought i'd share the rough version with tumblr anyway rather than let it collect dust in my wips folder forever

[theladysunami]

I had a very odd dream where a train (or bus?) I was on got yanked into another world. While my dream had nothing to do with SVSSS, it did have my waking self thinking about how hilarious and/or horrifying such a thing could be as an AU.

Imagine Shen Yuan riding the subway, train or bus one day, when something happens and his whole car gets yanked into the world of PIDW. Nobody else in the car knows anything about PIDW, so Shen Yuan finds himself with the self imposed task of keeping this eccentric group of strangers alive in a weird world full of demons, monsters, and aphrodisiac plants.

The group’s first assumption would probably be that they’re still on modern earth, and just got teleported somewhere. Their second assumption, if they come across common folk, might be they somehow ended up in the past.

Then they run into some monster, or people riding on swords with specific uniforms, or a commoner mentions a name or event only Shen Yuan recognizes. The rest of the party debates what sort of Xianxia or Wuxia world they’ve ended up in, while poor Shen Yuan sweats bullets. He knows exactly what world they are in, and they are so screwed.

I have this image of poor beleaguered nerd Shen Yuan successfully protecting and leading this group of primary school kids, their cute teacher, and a handful of grannies and grandpas, while all the other adults and older teens keep wandering off and getting themselves in trouble.

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[everlastingrandom]

I am testing something based on a conversation I had with a coworker: Have you ever been in a Beauty Supply store. NOT Sephora or an indie makeup boutique. Not the cosmetic section of a wholesale store. I mean a generic named, located in the hood, beauty supply store.

Please reblog for a larger sample size 🙏

[freyadragonlord]

How do I explain how married Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunje are in the post-epilogue Side Stories without sounding like I am exaggerating or making things up...