#they're actually adopted

[cassidysinferno]

(Short) Snippet #1 / Prompt #6

Villain was invited to a Christmas party hosted by Supervillain, full of known criminals in the city and their henchmen.

they hadn't expected the invitation from the master criminal, obviously. especially because Supervillain certainly does not look like the type of person to host parties.

while they don't intent on showing up because they'd rather spend it alone, something had caught their attention in the invitation. It had mentioned that Hero would be there.

now here Villain was, in the party, expecting some sort of announcement and humiliating Hero in front of everyone and it strangely worried the criminal.

sure, they hated each other but they hadn't want this. if anyone has to deal with Hero, it would be them. not supervillain.

they leaned against the wall, holding their wine glass. they're worried and overthinking for their nemesis and it's ridiculous.

they glanced around the room to spot..Hero. Unrestrained, Not humiliated, Nor bruised. But they're there, talking to who it seemed like one of Other Villain's henchman.

they would know, the said henchman was their old best friend from highschool who they still kept in touch with.

the villain watched as the henchman leave, waving bye to the hero..what the fuck.

they put their wine glass down to one of the tables and approached Hero, tapping their shoulder from behind to get their attention and put on their "iconic" smile.

"my, my..what is a hero doing in a party full of criminals?"

the hero turned back and smiled sheepishly.

"hey. did..Parent not tell you i was gonna here in your letter? ah, I knew I should've insist them that i should be the one who's writing your letter."

[chipper-smol]

star abducted :3

[sleepy-grav3]

Amity Park hates the Justice League but loves Red Hood and sometimes other heroes

A/n: I got this random idea so here it is. Oh, and this is good reveal AU ok?

-------

Due to the Justice League mocking them and ignoring their villain problems that were also publicly interdimensional problems, everyone hates the JL. It got worst with the GIW coming in, who blatantly went against the meta-laws (which included aliens, demons and so much more that weren't human from the beginning). They started to think the Justice League supported them.

In the Infinite Realms, however, there's a revenant that many adored and others respected. He did not hold back against criminals. Criminals that would rape, kill, traffic, sell drugs, and more to people. He especially didn't like when they brought kids into this. He'd avenge people the way they should've been: by promising that their abuser/killer/whatever wouldn't be able to do it again. And in the place they lived in, the only way for that to be possible was by major injury, heavy social outcasting, and/or death. Most prefer the 3rd.

And after how long the Amitians dealt with the attacks which eventually came to a slow once or twice a week type thing, they started opening their minds to the idea of coexistence. Well, further than they had. So when people started to cross over and start making their small haunts in their side of the veil, the Amitian's began to become aware of the popular hero Red Hood. He was part of the undead community, which was trustworthy in everyone's books.

So Amity Park started making merch. Most of it was for Team Phantom, but there was plenty for Red Hood as well. There were other heroes on the side, like for Superboy 1 (who they renamed to Supernova due to their hatred for Superman for 2 reasons, the obvious and that he rejected a mirror-born), and Raven (the half demon).

And with this coexistence, Team Phantom had noticed the positive feedback about killing in the name of vengeance. So they went on the offensive, and after a good year of that, the GIW lost funding for producing no results and just taking up resources. The acts were still there, but nobody enacted them in Amity, and nobody actually knew or believed them outside of the haunted city.

Then the Justice League find out about the hero group there due to tracking merchandise after they started to sell outside of the city. Superman was the guy everyone liked, so he was sent over. He immediately got thrown out and was now questioning who the heck Supernova was and when he rejected him.

Flash? Outcast. Everyone ignored and walked away from him. they had the police, who never did anything or even had to anymore, kick him out.

Green Lanter? Oh the poor guy. He had his ring taken away and thrown out of the city somehow. It took hours to find it.

Wonder Woman, they had to be ok with her. Not at first, but once Phantom had a talk with her and people learned that they were cousins through Clockwork (Kronos) and Pandora, they were ok. ish. Tolerated was the best word and she got the info back to the league.

The batfamily took a trip there, dragging Red Hood along somehow. And right when Red Hood was noticed, a crowd began to form as everyone practically worshipped him. There were many victims he had avenged and an Ancient (Lady Gotham) came and gave him the gifts she couldn't without scaring the guy.

At one point, the poor guy even cried.

[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.

[colourofmagic]

captain sunshine and the best backliner in ncaa exy ☀️

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny and Tim are twins- And Vlad is the first to figure this out in his attempts to get DavlCo a new investor.

---

Tim was getting the creeps from this guy. It was as if the room got colder, the seconds got longer and the room's shadows moved to their own volition. He stared Tim down less like 'You punk kid' and more like 'You'll be mine' in a way that Tim didn't appreciate. At all.

The guy kept setting meetings up despite Tim's direct insistance that Wayne Enterprises would never touch DalvCo- not with a ten foot pole or for all the money in the world. Some how Tim's board of directors kept getting swindled by the guy and... therefore more meetings. More looks from this guy that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

Vlad asked him if he ever went by Timothy- Tim couldn't reply "that's not my name" fast enough. It apparently inspired the guy somehow. More meetings that Tim can't reject because of board members pop up.

It's been long determined that Jason doesn't get involved with Wayne Enterprises, but after the Uncle and a few other paid-actor solutions go up in flames- Tim decides to call up his older brother to act as a bodyguard and tell this guy to fuck off for the final time.

Jason apparently also gets the Heebee-jeebies from this asshole but his message is loud and clear to Vlad. There's a flash of green and then all of sudden it's just Tim and Jason in the room... Only Jason isn't acting like himself.

Putting it together- Tim reaches for his contingency F stash of Knock out gas and doses Jason. Vlad doesn't re-appear so Tim assumes that to mean that he'll be trapped in Jason's person until Jason wakes up.

Walking out of the meeting room with his bus of a brother over his shoulders- Tim quickly asks Tam to reach out to Vlad's Emergency contact. Surely there is someone in this man's company willing to explain what the fuck Vlad was trying to pull. Tim theoretically can keep Jason drugged asleep for a long time- surely that threat can get him somewhere.

The day drags on as Tim continues to keep Jason unconscious and eventually Tam lets him know that someone is here for Vlad. She says it with the addition of one of their codes- He mentally prepares himself for the worst and then... His doppleganger walks through the door? What the fuck?

Tim and Danny puzzle about one another for a little too long and Jason wakes up- Vlad pops out immediately. A shouting match between Danny and Vlad commences and...

"Man I knew our family had unresolved issues but seriously what the fuck has your clone dealing with?" Jason asks, as though he could watch this all day with pop corn.

"You made more clones?!" Danny screamed at Vlad who's only response is "Not this one! This one is actually polite!"

"Fuck you!" Tim and Danny reply in tandem.

[ehliena]

I see all the Titans didn't know about the Batman being Batdad AUs, but what if they knew and thought that the Robins were biologically his?

Wally: Dude, why is your last name Grayson and not Wayne?

Dick: Because Bruce isn't my dad?

Wally: Really?!

Dick: You've known me since we were kids!

Wally: I thought it was just a rebellious thing and that he's your biological dad, what with the hair and the eyes and your siblings.

Dick: They're (mostly) not his either. In the biological sense.

Wally: *shock*

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 81

Danny blinked at the small children Ellie was holding the hand of, looking quite proud of herself. The small children- between ten and twelve so somewhere similar to Ellie’s age- who both practically stank of magic and Gods. 

He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose even as Dan cackled while opening the door more to let them inside. “Alright, what’s your name, kids?”

“B-billy…um, Billy Batson...” “‘m Percy! Percy Jackson.” 

“Nice to meet you two- any idea where in your family you have a god or two, because one of you definitely smells like Zeus and I’m pretty sure Poseidon and I am not dealing with either of my half-brothers.” 

[spacedace]

Continuation/blurb/snippet from this writing prompt.

It took less than a week to get custody of the Fenton children.

Oswald expected that it wouldn’t take long with his connections, but even that turn around is faster than what he expected. He'd anticipated pulling strings, greasing palms, maybe making some threats, but before he can even think of getting things moving to do so the paperwork is signed and a social worker is calling him to sort out the travel arrangements for the kids.

It's all done local, the judge, CPS, the witnesses and lawyers, each and every one calling the town home. Each and every one pushing the case through at a speed that Oswald didn't think was possible even in the most crooked of situations. He smelled conspiracy, but not - surprisingly - a malicious one.

Amity wasn't the smallest place in the world, but it was small enough. And the Fentons were public figures, though not in the way that Jack and Maddie Fenton obviously thought they were. How long had the people of Amity been watching things go wrong for the kids? How long had they been trying - in their own, limited ability - to help? Long enough to get desperate, seemed to be the answer.

The only resistance Oswald can find as he reviewed all the information he could get ahold of, was from the Mayor - Jazz and Danny's godfather, somehow more crooked than even Gotham's elected officials as far as Oswald could tell - and the Dr's. Fenton themselves.

The Mayor was summarily denied any influence of the case by the judge on the grounds of the long standing and publicly recorded ugliness of Master's relationship with Danny - which was something else Oswald was going to have to figure out. Along with all the…ghost stuff.

Oswald wasn't sure what to make of the ghost stuff.

Honestly he was leaving it for his people to figure out and wrangle into a reasonable explanation to report to him later. It was…something, a big something, and not - as he'd originally suspected upon initial cursory research into the town - a tourist gimmick or an overly high meta population. A later problem, provided he had to co tend with it at all once the children were officially in his custody in Gotham.

The biggest issue had been the kid's parents. Or really, the biggest issue had been the shady government agency backing the kids' parents.

The Fentons were the Ghost Investigation Ward's pet mad scientists. Creating weapons and genocidal plans - against ghosts - and generally tormenting the towns' living inhabitants just as much as the undead ones. The GIW had been protecting Jack and Maddie from any repercussions of their recklessness, and were willing to butt in on an unexpected custody battle in order to keep their maniacal golden geese happily working away.

From what Oswald had heard, a representative of the GIW had shown up to convince the judge to dismiss the case, but the judge had been faster. By the time the men in all white appeared - garish and tacky in their ill fitted, bulky suits - it had been too late of course. The judge had apparently anticipated their impending appearance and had made their ruling and had everything filed tidily late the night before. Courts did not typically stay running til three in the morning, but apparently an exception had been made.

There were a great many things wrong with Amity Park - wrong in a lot of ways they were in Gotham, wrong in ways they weren't - but the people that called the place home seemed to have come to a decision on one thing: the Fenton children were not safe, and unknown or not they were trusting Oswald to get them out of there.

It was strange and a little overwhelming, for an entire population that did not know him to see him as some kind of hope. Some kind of hero.

There were many, many things wrong in Amity Park.

He tried to assure himself when everything was said and done and the kids were packed and on their way that it wasn't his problem. He was officially Jazz and Danny's guardian, in a city half a country away that even with his - nominally- cleaned up act he held a great deal of power over. He was nearly untouchable within Gotham's shadow, and no one from some half-mad town was going to be able to do anything to change that.

He made preparations though, just in case. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being stupid. The Bat could use something to chew on that wasn't one of Oswald's entirely legitimate business ventures anyway. An ethically suspect government agency that was likely to come sticking their noses in Gotham's business sooner than later would do just nicely for that, and might even earn him some kind of grace from Gotham's brooding knight without getting him in hot water with any of the city's criminal element.

All that was left at that point was actually meeting the kids in person.

His kids.

He ignored the strange, bittersweet ache that touched his heart at that. It was, after all, entirely a means of improving his reputation in the city. The kids mean an end. He'd take care of him the same he did all his people, but not any more than that.

It was just business.

If he reminded himself enough, it might even be true one day.

He suspected though, as he laid eyes on them for the first time - shadow eyed and leery, haunted in a way that ghosts couldn't manage and looking not much at all like Oswald outside the fear and the pain he did his best to forget from his own upbringing - that the point of not caring had been passed the minute he'd gotten that first call.

*

Apologies if Penguin is out of character, all I know about him is what I vaguely remember from TAS, what I’ve absorbed from fandom and what I tried to put together from a wiki lol.

I did this instead of sleeping last night because I couldn’t get the initial idea out of my head (which slightly defeats the purpose of making it a writing prompt so that I could just read everyone else’s wonderful thoughts and writings on the idea instead of getting side tracked from my other writing projects - again lol - but oh well).

I don’t know if I’ll write anymore, and as with everything else I post this is open for anyone who is interested to run with.

Tag time!

@phoenixdemonqueen @justgray15777 @gin2212 @blankliferain @meira-3919 @lexdamo @hallowsden @derpygirl64 @thewondersoflebanon @amercurio @vythika96 @my-perfect-storybook-love @apointlessbox

[miusato]

It doesn't look like it here but they actually get along pretty well :]

[createandconstruct]

Wait. WAIT. Wait.

I just had the thought that if Inko and Toshi got married, Izuku would be their best man.

I’m gonna go lie down and cry about it now.

WAIT. W A I T.

I can do you one better thanks to moonlunee on twitter. Not only is Izuku the best man...he also walks Inko down the aisle.

Like can you imagine Izuku just barely keeping it together next to Inko as he walks her down the aisle. Smile wobbling, eyes watering, he holds it together up until the moment he meets Toshinori's eyes at the end and just goes sprinkler system.

And then Inko is cry-laughing and then Toshinori is crying as well as beaming, and it's all three of them together at the end of the aisle being a mess together as all their friends laugh with quite a few tears of their own.

[allastoredeer]

The Egg Bois have no one to take orders from after Sir Pentious dies. Then they see Lucifer and immediately follow him around and unlike Alastor who didn't like being tailed by the annoying yappy yokes, Lucifer is enthralled by them because they are like little ducklings forming a line as if Lucifer is their mother

One egg boi, Frank, is the only one that stuck to Alastor, and Al makes it clear he wants him to go away but Frank stays with him. One time when Al was cooking, Frank asked if he could help and Al thought for a moment, grinned, picked up the egg, and plopped him in the boiling pot. Unfortunately, Frank did not hard boil, in fact, he enjoyed the hot bath, and the rest of the egg bois ran inside as Lucifer entered the kitchen and screamed in horror at the display but the rest of the eggs hopped around Al's feet, pulling at his trousers asking to join the bubble bath.

FRANK STAYING WITH ALASTOR IS SO CUTE MY HEART JUST EXLODED

Alastor trying to boil Frank is just fogjwenweln 🤣 I can see that. The fact that it's not working AND Frank's enjoying himself AND the other eggbois want to join in makes it all so much better.

Also, the other eggbois following Lucifer around like ducklings 🥺 that's adorable.

[sysig]

Okay but TSP/Portal crossover AU is such a cool concept, how have I never thought about that before?? I'd like to request Narra and GLaD hanging out watching their respective little guys go through tests like 'can you believe them they're so dumb <3'

Day 30 - They're absolute hellions

Bonus:

Noooo, my bucket!!

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 3:

There is a universe, somehow, where Silco saves Vi.

It's... actually not all that uncommon, despite the circumstances.

It's a known fact they dislike each other: Vi's too much like Vander and she takes pride in that. That pride leaves a bitter taste in Silco's mouth.

They fight, often. Well... Vi fights, it's what she's best at. Silco listens quietly and tears her little arguments apart like wings from a butterfly. She curses his name and trashes his office every time one of his endeavors gets people killed. It happens more often than not - the price of freedom is always paid in blood.

Every death toll brings her to his office like a bringer of justice misled by righteousness. But he let hers storm in regardless. Sevika's learned to let her.

Every time, he sits and watches. Calmly. He watches her ruin months of careful notation or scorn a job well done. When necessary, he can chase her out with a few words. Usually, it's a reminder of her temper, her age, or Vander.

She's not Vander; it seems he's the only one willing to make her remember that. She hates him for it. For the death and the suffering and the fact that neither of them can fill the cast iron gloves hanging above the bar. Not really.

He isn't Vander either. He never pretended to be. He has no interest in burying his head in the sand. There's a cost to that... Vi know it.

She also knows that when the chips are down and the guns are aimed, when she's collapsed in an alleyway from a broken rib, and when it feels like it's just her with the Last Drop to her back... Silco's there. He'd do many things, but he'd never abandon her.

He drags her home and leaves Mylo to patch her up. He bails them out of idiotic schemes Vi got the five into. He hides enforcer bodies in the river (he never minds doing that). He pays someone off or makes someone disappear.

She still hates him, probably.

He... can't return the sentiment. She's irritating, in all those familiar ways Vander was, but it's different. He'd looked up to Vander, once. Much like Powder does to Vi - much like they all look up to Vi. But, she is not her Father. She is a child trying to fill shoes too big for her. From such a perspective, her irritating qualities are more... palatable.

She bartends, clenching her jaw and playing diplomat with the remnants of Vander's faction. She's a child, and the underworld knows it. Her hands are clumsier as they clean the glasses, unsure of how to be gentle when the rage burns.

The first time she asks Silco for anything is after she breaks the last of Vander's shot glasses. It's one of the only times her eyes mist in his presence. Nice glass is hard to come by in the undercity, and her going to the surface was out of the question... not after last time.

Silco has Sevika deliver the shipment, and neither of them mentions it again. Silco's shots are always served in a new glass, though. It's the closest to a thank you he can bear.

She's Vander's child. They all are. A step too far and the four (five, though Ekko's much better at staying out of trouble than his irritating late-guardian) gain a new title. Silco does not consider himself an emotional man, not anymore. But the first time an opposing crime lord tries to get to him through the children - Mylo, specifically - he finds himself... inspired.

Sevika finds Mylo in their enemy's basement. It's Silco who takes him home, a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder. They walk, tall - at least Silco does, something odd raging in his gut like a tidal wave.

It's a statement for him to walk Mylo home and he knows it. They're stared at - it's probably the first time he's ever done anything visible like this with any of Vander's kids. He doesn't regret it. Mylo doesn't either.

They root out the rot and leave a new scar in Zaun, Sevika is efficient and brutal when the time demands it. She aligns with Silco in that manner. He's never liked these inter-faction fights, but sometimes messages must be sent. Messages signed eloquently in blood are more memorable, and it must be memorable. Zaun's streets are too used to violence - if you want to send a message you must be... purposeful.

Mess with Vander's children and you will be meeting Zaun's ghosts.

It's the first collection of murders Vi doesn't condemn him for. Mylo's behind the bar with her, ranting about shitty air ventilation, nervous, bruised hands calming themselves as they dust glasses. Vi's quiet as Silco sits, not a word spared. She pours him a shot in a cleanly cut shot glass: it almost tastes sweeter.

They are Silco's wards. Vander's children, but under Silco's gaze. He doesn't want it to go any further, and the city would do well not to test it. Piltover too.

The marshall learns quickly enough that the streets play by new rules now. The Lanes are the safest place in Zaun for its children - they're nothing but a death sentence for enforcers.

Vi's... useful, in that regard. The only thing she seems to hate more than Silco is the people who got to Vander before he did. Another rare thing they both agree on. It's why he has no qualms about burying her ghosts when her rage is too strong and her fists too unforgiving.

So, yes, Silco has saved her before. This is different. It's not a glorious or proud moment... it's... necessary, as all things are in his life.

It starts when he slips by the Last Drop - he tries to do it fairly regularly. Not for the children, but for the statement. He's welcome here now. The streets know it. He haunts his old life, a stronger, fiercer phantom than any of his old demons.

It's pride, and he knows it. He strides in and smiles through the glares, Vi's included. She still pours him a glass no matter what fight they're having. She loves Powder too much to chase him away. That power is the halfway point between intoxication and sobriety, just as the shot of Vander's whiskey is.

He's late for his visit this time. Very late. More likely than not Vi's gone to bed and won't be up until late noon. He'll pour himself a drink and be done with it. It's not for the children - it's for himself. It always is.

There are no regulars to grumble at his arrival, just a drunk passed out in the alleyway next to the bar. Vi is still learning the art of cutting people off - sometimes he thinks she keeps the nastier ones drinking to teach them a lesson. Drags them home so they owe her a favor - so they remember they were at her mercy, once.

She's like Vander, but she's not all Vander.

Or maybe she is... Silco's throat is tight and his eye is beginning to throb from the long day. He reaches the door and stops.

It's left open.

Paranoia is an old friend. It keeps two knives on him, always in arm's reach. Danger is the best friend of Zaun's children, and it's taught him well. There's a gun at his belt too - ready. Always ready.

Vi does not keep the door open. It lets a draft in, and the stench of the streets. She's particular about such things.

Silco pushes the door open and takes a long breath. It's a familiar sight, not to the bar, but to Silco: there was a scuffle, of some sort. There's blood on the bartop and a broken bottle on the floor. Stools are tossed aside, and the jukebox is donning a new crack - it was a long fight, then. It seems the dancers danced their vicious waltz all through the bar.

Silco steps into the bar, still lit, but empty. There's... something climbing up his throat as his mind churns out the most likely probabilities. It tastes like river water.

Vi's a fighter, like her Father. The streets know it. They call her the 'little hound'.

Silco has no reason to correct them.

He crouches down to study a skid mark on the floor, right next to a small pool of blood. Someone's been punched, hard. Silco moves faster, passing the ghost of a bar and delving into its hold - the heart of this haven Vander built.

The door to the children's rooms is locked. That means one of two things. Either there's a nasty sight beyond for Silco to find, or Vi did what she does best.

He knocks: a rhythmic game that he knows one of the five will get. It's one of Powder's many games, tapping on his office door before barging in. Or his closet. Or his desk. Wherever her new hiding spot was. She and Ekko found some sort of amusement in startling him. Silco may loathe to admit it, but the pattern made their impromptu visits nicer. The anxiety leaves when the assassin in the belfry turns out to be the two youngest giggling at their endeavors.

Silco uses Powder's knock. He's met with silence.

There's a churning in his gut because he knows... he knows the costs of affections.

He's made enemies. That's condemnation enough. But Vander's made enemies too. Vander's children are still Vander's children - and the Hound's death doesn't satiate old blood feuds. And if it's revenge against Silco? He's not as clandestine in his affections as he wants to be...

Sevika tells him that much.

So he curses under his breath and slowly places his forehead on the door as he prepares himself.

If he opens this door... If those kids are dead... If Silco kicks this door down and finds bodies, he's going to make someone burn. He's going to carve this little haven apart in a baptism of blood.

A perfectly reasonable reaction. Justified, even. Not even Vander would disagree. It doesn't settle the crashing wave of something other than anger that's ripping him apart at the thought.

There's a scrambling on the other side and Silco releases a long breath he forgot he was holding.

There's a familiar hiss: "Powder - Powder no -"

Claggor's alive at least... and so is -

Powder opens the door taking a large gasp as their eyes meet. She runs to Silco and grabs him in a hug as if he's a lifeline and not an anchor pulling her into polluted river water.

It's not her usual. She'll poke at him or snatch something out of his pockets, but she's never been much of a hugger.

Silco isn't either.

He lets her stay, for now and places a hand on her head. She's warm... breathing and warm. He uses his other hand to push the door further. It reveals a more desperate scene. Claggor's holding a bloodied rag to his head. Mylo's nursing a broken nose from where he lays on the couch.

So it wasn't a long scuffle - it was multiple fights.

"What happened?" Silco only ever demands. Something Mylo hates - can't ask nicely, can you?

"Was one of those gangs Vi chased out a few weeks back," Claggor's always the voice of reason and honesty. Now he's donning a black eye and bruised knuckles. He has Vander's build, but lacks a stomach for fighting. He can do it - and do it well, but not like Vi...

He lacks her conviction. Speak of...

Damn girl. She's missing from their usual nest. Ekko too, but that's at least usual.

"Where is Vi?" Silco keeps his voice level, or he thinks he does. Powder pulls away and wipes her eyes, a familiar guilt dancing over her unblemished face.

"She went after them," Mylo answers, nasally, as he holds his head back. "Told us to hold up here till she got back."

"Alone?" Silco's not surprised but he is... angry.

Not at Vi. She's a fool; always has been. Like someone else he knew. She's doing what she'll always do.

Powder's near inconsolable, as she usually is when it comes to such things: "She told us to stay - I didn't want to but she made us promise and - and we couldn't find Ekko so we don't know where he went. I - I wanted to get you -"

"It's alright, how long ago did this happen?" Silco crouches down to meet Powder's gaze.

"I dunno, ten minutes," Mylo answers from afar. "You just missed it -"

"Which gang?" Silco's impatience is eating at him.

No one has an answer. Powder stares at the floor with tears in her eyes.

"Stay here," he orders in the face of silence. "Wait for me."

"You're gonna get her, right?" Powder pleads as he stands. "I can help!"

It's always about helping, with her. Always about being useful and loved. It's painfully easy to manipulate.

"Protect your brothers," Silco instructs carefully, softly. He looks around the room and eyes familiar explosive devices at her bedside. "If they come back to finish the job, use your tools. Make them regret what they've done."

"We don't need her-" Mylo begins to object before Claggor slaps his shoulder.

Powder doesn't buy his order, but it's enough. She bites her lip and nods. Silco spares her a warmer glance before he departs. The door closes behind him and it seems Claggor and Mylo immediately begin to argue: typical.

Silco's a bit too busy seething to do much else. He gives the bar another survey, trying to decipher what Vander's little prodigy got herself into.

It could be a little collection of street menaces. Faux-tough folks who like to poke and prod at any establishment they can, except of course the actual bastards of Piltover. Silco hated such short-sightedness. That energy would be better aimed at those gold-plated brutes that police the streets they spit on.

There's no chance of beating Piltover if the streets are too busy going at each other's throats. Vi had kicked out a few folks, and broken a few teeth, but retaliation had always been out of the question. She'd been spared from the worst of Zaun's cannibalistic tendencies her whole life.

Though she may hate it, Vi was the closest Zaun would ever get to royalty. The daughter of Vander, protected by Silco's knife edge. So either these bastards were stupid or they knew exactly what they were doing.

And if they were the latter, there was a large chance Vi wasn't just gone. That's the cost of sending messages.

You get sent messages too... in filthy, bloody packages...

"Thought I might find you here," a voice breaks through his concentration as he finds a few discarded coins by a table. It's Sevika. He doesn't even bother looking over his shoulder, as he pockets the change.

"Never a dull moment," Silco curses, standing. "Vi's run off."

"I know," Sevika mutters with a familiar exasperation. "I tried to stop her."

"You saw her!?"

"Yeah, caught her chasing down some thugs. She had a few scores to settle." Sevika is far too casual about it as she saunters over to the bar and pours herself a drink.

"And if it was a trap?" Silco's' challenge sounds a bit more paranoid out loud than it did in his head.

"I recognized the poor bastards, they're stupid - harmless in the long run," Sevika shrugs. "They take folks by surprise. Though they're in for a nasty one now."

Silco sighs, heavily, pinching his nose as a headache tries to wrestle into his priorities: "Where did she go?"

"Up towards the fishmonger's, at the pace she was at, she's probably caught up by now. She'll be back. They won't."

Silco doesn't say anything to that. He can't. So he leaves.

"Keep watch," he orders as he goes, because orders are simple, kinder things.

The streets are dark and damp, as always, but they're colder now. It's a bad idea to walk alone - especially given who he is. Not that he hasn't proven time and time again that the cost of messing with him is fatal, but his paranoia reminds him too easily how quickly a knife can come for your back. That being said.. these were Vander's streets and they are his now. Despite the animosity there, the old resistance keeps a watchful eye out on his back. He doesn't trust it, but he does understand it.

You take care of those kids now, or so the old Yordle from the brothel had ordered. Do that, and I won't mind you.

He still walks quickly and grapples with old ghosts. Vi's growing into something - something Vander would be keen on stopping. Something Vander had always been afraid of becoming.

It's a stupid thing, really. Silco's breathing in Zaun's poisoned air and lamenting on all the things that dead fool may have been right about.

Vi's useful as a little hound, but Silco's never gotten good at leashing her. Vander never managed it either. All of those kids were annoyingly stubborn and brilliant and mold them as Silco may, some things don't change. Not the river water of Zaun or the blood on the bridge - not the kids raised in her wake.

For the first time, Silco considers that maybe he's not the only one who drowned on these streets. It's no coincidence the thought comes as he passes the corner Vander died on.

He pushes it aside, quickly. He has something more important to deal with.

He finds her stumbling back. She's a mess. Broken nose, a black eye, and her knuckles are covered in blood. She is covered in blood. She limps along, guarding her side, pausing only when she sees him.

"Oh fuck me," she scorns and Silco has to chuckle at that.

"Hello Violet," he greets with a sarcastic glance. "You look well."

"Fuck off, Silco. What are you doing here?" half of the anger in her voice is from pain. The other half is her earnest loathing of him.

He can answer her honestly, though: "Looking for you."

"Well, you found me." She presses onward, passing him with a glare. He's content to follow.

They walk in silence for a while, Vi spitting out a glob of blood after a minute and cursing a colorful array for her wounds.

"Did you find them?" Silco inquires, once it's clear she intends to ignore him the entire time.

"Course," she spits.

"And, you walked away."

"I won. They're not coming back."

"Good," Silco supposes. The praise doesn't land kindly on her shoulders, but it's earnest.

"If you're gonna lecture me on how stupid going off alone was -"

"I have no such intention."

"I didn't kill them, either."

"I wouldn't care much if you did."

Vi sneers at that and presses onward.

"Call for a doctor, when you get back," Silco orders, gently as he can.

She glares at him - a clear refusal. It's not a bad idea, and she knows it, but because Silco said it, her little spiteful side would rather bleed out on the street.

That's... not Vander. It may be Felicia in her...

"Were you stabbed?" Silco suddenly catches a glimpse at the side she's guarding.

"No."

"So all the blood isn't yours?"

"Can you just fuck off?"

"Violet. Have you been stabbed?"

She whirls around, probably to hiss another insult at him, but she stumbles instead. Embarrassingly enough for both of them, Silco moves to catch her. She grabs a light post in place of his hands, and heaves out a heavier breath.

Silco watches, rolling his eyes at the theatrics. He pockets his hands as if they didn't almost betray him.

"It would kill you to direct your stubbornness somewhere beneficial, wouldn't it?" He jabs, in a whisper.

"I didn't fucking ask for your help!" She snaps back, pulling herself back up and pressing a bloodied hand firmer into her side.

"No. You didn't," Silco mutters, and he's quick to snatch her wrist, stained by her own crimson. He isn't as strong as he once was, but with surprise on his side, he can yank her hand away long enough to see the wound beneath it.

Oh, look at that. She has been stabbed. Who would've guessed?

She rips out of his hold and he lets her. It was a more performative act anyway - she'll glare at him either way. She leans away from him with a snarl of: "Fucking bastard." Like a cornered dog.

Little hound indeed.

"Sit down," he orders.

"No -"

"Violet. Sit. Down."

It doesn't usually work on her. The tone was more useful with Claggor - but she's bleeding out. Seems that some of the stubbornness is going with it.

She sags to the cobblestone with a grimace as she guards her side, hissing through clenched teeth as she lands heavily. Silco crouches down in front of her, pulling out familiar tools from a small pouch he always keeps handy.

Again, paranoia and preparation were identical twins, you could only tell them apart in practice. He was well-versed in both. He's had to stitch himself up too many times...

Well, he'd had to stitch up Vander too many times...

"Oh, fuck this: Get your damn doctor," Vi spits as she spies the small vial of astringent.

And Silco hums to match her scathing tone: "I would. But you've decided to give us a time crunch."

"I - "

"Move your hand."

"No!"

"Violet, I am not going to tell your siblings that you bled out in front of me."

It's the only way to get her to do anything. A familiar arm to twist when it's necessary. She knows it too, which is why her glare burns darker than Zaun's night. She still obeys, even lifting up her shirt a few precious inches to show him the gore beneath. That's enough - it's more than he dares ask from her.

The streets of Zaun are familiar with questionable medical practices, and Silco's familiar with impromptu triage. They'll need better stitches and a thorough cleaning once he's done, but it would stop her from bleeding, for now.

She hisses through her teeth when he pours the cleaner over it.

"Fucker -"

"You're welcome," he interrupts curtly. "And you're lucky."

She says nothing as she clenches her teeth and covers her eyes, breaths coming fast and heavy.

"If this had gone any deeper, or moved any higher, we'd be in a different predicament," Silco continues.

"Well, it'd fix one of your problems," Vi spits between heavy breaths as Silco threads the needle.

He chuckles at that one: "Perhaps."

Vi bites her already bloodied knuckles to keep from screaming as Silco begins his work. Painkillers would be a useful thing to keep handy, but Silco prepares for needs, not comforts.

This may... change that.

The closeness is one of necessity, and it's obviously no comfort to the girl. Silco works quickly. It's messy, but again, he intends to get an actual doctor as soon as the bleeding is stemmed. You can't exactly apply a tourniquet to a torso - and you shouldn't make a habit of stitching up your enemies.

Not that Vi was an enemy... not to him, at least. Not yet.

"Of course, if you did die," he finds himself musing: "I dare say Claggor will end up breaking even more glasses than you did."

She doesn't respond but there is a breath - quick... it may even be a laugh.

"Unless Mylo takes over bartending. In which case I should hike up our liquor order. Something tells me he'll get too eager to test the merchandise."

"Oh fuck off." There she is.

"We'll have to wait until Powder grows a bit taller so she can see over the bare - granted she doesn't kill me first for letting you die."

He cuts off the thin wire now holding the wound together. It snaps quickly and he ties it - tight. Vi's hand suddenly clamps onto his arm and he's thrusted back years by the force in that grip. He tries to hide it and likely does seeing how out of it the girl is. She's leaning forward, breathing heavily. His breaths, in conjecture: feather-light. Too quick.

"She - she wouldn't," the girl manages.

It's Silco who can't respond this time, staring at the white-knuckled grip on his arm. Well, they would be white knuckles if said knuckles weren't split and covered in grime. Familiar... too familiar.

Vi continues though, the pain spilling from her eyes despite the chuckle in her throat: "She likes you too much - looks up to you."

"A questionable choice," Silco finally forces out of his dry throat, carefully dissecting Vi's grip from his wrist.

"Yeah," she spits, leaning further forward, at least until Silco catches her shoulder.

"You'll split the stitching. You still need a doctor."

"Fuck."

Understandable. Silco helps her stand and, as if to scream how much she's truly out of it, she doesn't protest in the slightest. They make their way through the streets, slowly. The Last Drop is the closest safe spot, though the faster they find a doctor the better.

They get halfway there when Vi starts breathing just a little too heavy for his taste. She's shaking and when she starts leaning on him he caves in. They stop and he pushes her to a wall.

Another order: "Catch your breath."

She obeys. That's a problem. Vi does not obey. She seethes and objects and ruminates even when he's right. They're running out of time. He can't leave her here but he can't wait either.

Choices, choices, choices...

"I shouldn't have gone alone," Vi recites hatefully as she slides down to the brick wall, wrapping both arms around her stomach. "I know, it was fucking stupid."

"Well, at least you recognize it," Silco scathes, holding the bridge of his nose again as the ache behind his eye worsens. Brilliant. Who does he know around here? Anyone trustworthy?

"They needed to get the shit kicked out them," she rues, weakly.

"And did you get stabbed before or after you exacted your justice?"

"After. Fucker pulled a knife once it was a one-on-one."

"Predictable," Silco scolds. She glares, good - at least something familiar is still present.

"Maybe for you."

"Don't pretend Mylo doesn't play dirty. You know to expect it." Silco hardly notices he's begun to pace. There's blood dripping on the cobblestone, trickling from Vi's fingers. They need to move. Vi's breaths are still heavy.

The streets smell like river water. Silco can hardly breathe.

"I broke his face."

And that, Silco can laugh at: "I don't doubt it. Now get up. We need to go."

She closes her eyes at the order - a bit too long for his taste. He couches down and grabs her shoulder - fiercely. "Violet."

"I'm moving," she grumbles, taking his hand and weakly standing once more. Immediately, she collapses and Silco barely catches her, lowering her to the floor gently as he can as it all trickles out of him in hollow realization like the crimson from her side.

He sits her up against the wall and, heavily, takes a seat beside her. He can't carry her back. He's not that strong - maybe never was. And she's bigger now. He needs to go - get someone who can help.

He can not leave her. Not like this. Not like this.

He's lied millions of times, he'll lie a million times more before his life is through, but he made a promise, to a dead man, but a promise nonetheless. He cannot leave her to die another one of Zaun's orphans. Her last cradle in the cobblestones. He will not leave her to die alone.

"Fuck." It's weaker now, wet. She's crying.

He can't stomach it.

"We need to move," he tries to find a sternness to press onward. It ends up sounding desperate. His hand is over hers, applying pressure she doesn't have the strength to.

"I shouldn't have gone alone," she repeats. The anger's gone... it's fermented into regret.

"You should have called me," he hates the rage that is slipping through his teeth like the blood between his fingers. "I would've handled this."

"They kicked Claggor," she breaths - like that's some sort of defense.

"You are dying."

There it is: in the air. No taking it back now. He knows it. She knows it. Zaun knows it.

"You are dying because of your own idiocy," he seethes regardless.

"Keep Powder away from your fucking war," is her answer - always the fucking martyr, so much like her second father, it's disgusting. "Mylo and Claggor... keep them away -"

No. No he will not -

"You want to keep them away? Do it yourself," he hisses as he pulls her up again. This time he has one hand under her shoulders and the other pressed against her side, firmly. Her blood is warm against his cold hands and he tries to ignore it: "Move."

"Silco -"

Not fucker. Or bastard. Or the many other colorful names she's deemed him worthy of.

"Move." That's his answer. It's his answer for the next few blocks. Then, there's a stirring from one of the rooftops and Silco almost breathes in relief to hear a familiar rhythm of taps, asking if the coast is clear.

Vi notices nothing, she's limp, and in a moment of weakness, he digs into her wound, inciting a gasp. She's still alive and she'll fucking stay that way.

"EKKO!" He calls and the boy is there, peeking over a roof's ledge. His eyes are wide and Silco doesn't help to soothe the fear there. "Get a doctor! Now!"

"Who?" the boy cries back, eyes locked on Vi.

"Anyone! Closest one you can find." Silco's done with plans currently. No one will try anything stupid with Sevika staring over their shoulder. Time's not on their side. On Violet's side.

Ekko's smart enough to not get himself kidnapped - probably. Tonight's just been full of all sorts of lovely surprises. Though if he has to chase another child down he can't promise he'll maintain his patience.

They press onwards. The streets are dead this early in the morning. It's nearly time for the early risers to stir. What fools do creep the streets vanish at the sight of Silco and his fiery eye.

Vi's a heavy weight on his side, her feet dragging more and more with every moment.

"I seem to recall one of Vander's teachings warning against this exact situation," he mutters.

The sound of her late Father stirs her just a bit - it's all he needs. Her eyes flicker over and he drags her onward.

"Something about being careful about the fights you pick - and the causes you die for," he scorns.

A familiar warning. One he'd almost died for. The hands around his neck are heavy, but still lighter than Vi's weight on his side.

She doesn't answer.

"How did it go?" Silco breathed rhetorically. "Every time you raise your fist, make sure you're ready to die for it?"

"Make sure... you're ready... for someone to die for it," Vi breathes and it's not relief, but it's something similar that fills Silco's flooded lungs.

"Ah, of course. He was always so worried about collateral," Silco feigns ignorance. "And murder."

"Yeah," Vi barks a weak laugh. "You... wouldn't... know..."

"I wouldn't," Silco agrees. "Everyone has something they'd die for. I happen to think certain causes are worth killing for. Vander did too, he liked to pretend he didn't."

Vi goes silent so Silco clears his throat: "Not this though."

She does huff at that.

"It will be embarrassing if you die from this," Silco mutters.

No answer. He begins to calculate the next way phrase that could stir her up when she breathes a weak laugh.

"He wouldn't have died from this."

"Neither will you," Silco states.

"He... wouldn't have been stupid."

Silco does roll his eyes at that: "He absolutely would have been."

"Should've... seen it... coming."

"Yes. But you'll learn."

"I was... angry."

"I know." Silco breathes. Because he does. He knows it better than anyone else. Better than Vander would've.

Like a blessing from Janna, there's a golden light spilling from down the street, and they turn towards the Last Drop. They aren't a step towards it before Sevika is at the door, throwing it open and running towards them.

"The trick about anger, Violet -" Silco breathes as they slow. He looks at her and finds a determination in those eyes - "It's all in knowing how to use it. That rage will either kill you... or keep you alive. It's time you decide how you'll use it."

Sevika is there and she picks Vi up like she weighs nothing. The doctor arrives a few minutes later, Ekko on his heels. Some kinder neighbor who lacks prowess but is willing to do it for free - to repay an old favor to Vander.

Good enough. He's too tired to play Zaun's usual games.

Powder's crying next to him. Mylo and Claggor fret the whole time. Ekko takes his place next to Powder and watches with a mixture of grief and horror. Sevika is strangely quiet.

But Vi? She refuses to fade. Refuses to pass out. She grips the chair beneath her and grinds her teeth on a twisted rag from Sevika as the doctor works. Her nails carve into the wood until splinters bloody her cuticles - and sometimes, she looks to Silco.

He doesn't know what she sees there, doesn't know what she's looking for. He just knows she's going to survive.

She knows it too.

She's not Vander, never was. It's not a bad thing.

But it changes everything.

[starry-bi-sky]

MMMM twins au with danny and dan except its og TUE timeline danny and dan

ok okay i neeeeed o write this down and share it before i explode buT. as the title says. twins danny and dan (who im going to be calling James/Jamie bc i cannot express how much i despise the name dan) where, instead of disappearing into the ghost zone after he's separated from danny's body, Dan rips out Vlad's ghost half, tears THAT in half, and fuses one half with himself and the other with Danny.

Shit happens, and BOOM. Two morally ambiguous and perhaps slightly murderous demonic twins from hell. Daniel James Fenton and his Twin WHose Always Been Here What Are You Talking About :) James Daniel Fenton. They are both depressed, lonely, and one bad day from becoming a mass extinction event :)

this is because i got grabbed by the hair today and dragged into the SVSS fandom screaming and the fanart of Shen Jiu/Shen Yuan/Shen Quingqiu (????) with his fan entranced me. Ice Prince Core is my favorite thing so naturally i have to implant that onto my favorite blorbos ever :)

After the Incident, both their appearances changed and they're practically identical to each other. Sorta. They both have heterochromia and salt-and-pepper hair. But Danny has one green eye and one blue eye and white hair with black streaks, while Jamie has one blue eye and one green eye and black hair with white streaks. I'm iving them both long hair, for funsies <3

nobody can tell them apart, they keep getting confused on whose who and frankly the mix-match hair and eyes make it worse not better asjd. they're horrifically codependent. please do not separate :)

and because i must. im pulling a blood blossom/tales of the passerine and giving them to pre-robin batman. batman and his terrifying demon(??) twins. nobody is quite sure if they're human or not, and the scourge of gotham are a little too terrified to ask.

(they dont HAVE to go to batman while he's pre-robin. however. i think its much funnier that way bc gotham isn't use to A) Batman having kids, and B) Batman having TERRIFYING kids yet. think of all the new fun rumors)

they both use war fans while they're out, and neither of them use their ghost forms because they at least have the remaining empathy to know that they're more likely to murder someone accidentally as a ghost :). Ghost form is for fellow mythicals and Functionally Immortals Only! Not for Squishy Humans.

Jamie: murder. bloodshed. revengggee Bruce: no. no. Justice. peace!! hope! Danny: bittinngggg. blooood. ^-^

They're honestly not bad kids they're just horrifically traumatized two halves of a whole that can never be reunited ever again :).

idk what their vigilante names are but i do know that the underground refer to them in horrified whispers as 'the twins'. this all stemmed from the desperate and sudden urge to see Danny and Jamie, as their vigilante selves, hiding the lower half of their faces with fans and looking terrifyingly judgmental while they do it <333

[bhaalsdeepbat]

i really, really love that lae'zel is DISGUSTED by the idea of ever having to deal with pregnancy, but like. genuinely loves being a mom to Xan. and just loves that baby so much.