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#HE RAISED THEM
enha-stars · 16 days
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im going to think about markhyuck not being able to see taeyong off for a VERY long time. wdym they tried their best? wdym they were going to take an earlier flight? wdym it got delayed because of the rain? wdym wdym wdym wdym
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ahsoka-in-a-hood · 4 months
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Jedi dialect but it's just them talking in Yoda speak amongst themselves
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boo-moved · 8 months
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Screen recording every sceleritas interaction bc that's durge's actual dad
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egophiliac · 6 months
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this is basically what happened, right?
(these guys are very lucky that everyone at NRC 1) has the combined intelligence of a sack of bricks, and 2) is easily distracted by shiny things.)
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#stage in playful land#stage in playfulland#these two are SO sleazy and i am utterly delighted by them#can't wait to find out their tragic backstory in approximately 3-4 weeks!#fortunately i have like a month to figure out how the heck to draw their hair (spoiler: i will never figure it out)#also. god. i love it whenever leona accidentally reveals his Mom Side.#he doesn't care about any of this but he WILL be tagging along to make sure no one else gets into trouble#once again he has to be the Responsible Adult and he hates it. the whimsical hat weighs heavy upon his head.#anyway this is me so excuse me while i now talk about diasomnia for three hours#but lilia being all 'kids gotta have some adventure in their lives!' is hilarious#specifically because you know silver would NEVER.#100% silver not only never snuck out but he always went to bed on time AND brushed his teeth AND flossed even when nobody made him.#lilia: aww but you should be enjoying your youth! >:c#silver: i am. i enjoy being respectful and disciplined and honoring you as my father.#lilia:#lilia: maybe i'm TOO good at raising kids#you know i was going to say none of his kids would be involved in this but i actually think malleus definitely would#he would not see it as a moral quandry though. he would just be excited to be invited along.#(the only reason he isn't there is because he was busy admiring a termite-infested beam somewhere and yuu didn't get a chance to ask him)#i mean MAYBE if lilia as his single authority figure told him no then he would have some reservations#but lilia's the one who's screaming HELL YEAH LET'S SNEAK OUT AND DEFY AUTHORITY while dabbing so moot point there#sebek would never and he would rat on everyone else. unless malleus is going in which case he's already there.#and i guess if everyone else is going silver probably would too#but he'd. y'know. feel conflicted about it.
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bluerosefox · 21 days
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Family Resemblance
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I had another 11pm brain worm.
Enjoy
-x-x-
Daniel Wayne, the younger toddler brother of Bruce Wayne and the son of Martha and Thomas Wayne had been kidnapped the night their parents were murdered.
Daniel had been snagged the moment their killer heard people headed to the alley and Bruce in his state of shock didn't realize it until it was far to late and could only scream in horror (from everything) as his baby brother is crying his name. (If you wanna make it even more heart wrenching, make it Danny's first time being able to say Bruce's name right and/or Bruce had said some mean things to Danny earlier after he accidentally broke something of Bruce's, something like 'I wish youd go away' or 'I never wanted a brother, you're such a bother!')
Bruce is being held by Alfred as some police officers are chasing down the Wayne's parents killer while some stay behind to see if they could do something.
Minutes turn to hours and as they wait, praying the police at least found Danny, Bruce is ridden with guilt. From his parents death to allowing his brother to be kidnapped.
Eventually the police return to give Alfred and Bruce the news. And it's not good.
The killer escaped and Danny was nowhere to be found.
And it would take many years before he would be found.
-x-x-
Bruce gets a call from Damian during school hours one day. When he answers he is greeted with Damian demanding him to get to the school and explain himself.
Confused Bruce asks what does he mean and Damian responds with
"The two new students in class today are the spitting images of you and I father! Either they are poorly created clones or you have more hidden blood children!"
-x-x-
Meanwhile the very students being discussed are calling up someone too
"Ellie? Dan? What's wrong? You better not have made too much chaos already, I just paid for the uniforms for that place."
"DAD! I THINK ANOTHER ONE OF THE FRUITLOOPS FAILED CLONES SOMEHOW SURVIVED!"
"What?"
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nerdpoe · 2 months
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Little Zuko and little Azula love Lu Ten. They love Lu Ten so much, they successfully smuggled themselves into Lu Ten's baggage when Lu Ten left to go fight.
Lu Ten, meanwhile, finds out that his little cousins snuck along for the ride way too late.
He knows they're gonna lose the fight.
He isn't about to let a couple of little kids die like that, murdered by Ba Sing Se soldiers too hyped up by war.
He may have been prepared to put his own life on the line, but he's not sacrificing Zuko or Azula's. But he also knows that if he flees the field with them, then Ozai will absolutely use that as an excuse to "punish" his own children.
Lu Ten does not want to know what that punishment entails. He is, in fact, more terrified by whatever it may be than the literal war raging outside his tent.
So.
So.
He swallows his pride for his country, his love for his father, and his dreams of being a successful general.
He grabs the kids, fakes his death, and runs.
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ruporas · 1 year
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the song of humanity will continue to be sung
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renecdote · 3 months
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do you think Bruce ever lies awake at night thinking about all the things he has taught his kids and how it seemed like a good idea at the time but maybe some of those habits are actually more bad than good
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
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Prompt 131
Okay, so first of all Dan would like to say it’s not his fault. Ellie was the one to bring some unknown object into the speeder and Jazz was the one driving. Or had Sam been driving- didn’t matter! It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t the one shooting at them, he wasn’t the one to break whatever, he was not the one to open a stupid portal, and so it wasn’t his fault! 
So why is he now like, five years old, and why is the speeder crashed in some sort of corn field. Why is everyone- except for Jazz whose now like six- also like three at most?! And- oh fuck the door just opened and… okay that’s a kid. Like, nine at most. 
A kid and an adult, who he hadn’t noticed at first so again, it’s not his fault if he hissed at them and tried to hide his not-siblings behind him. It’s also not fair they’re apparently stuck to ghost speak for who knows how long, but at least they can understand the people. 
“Martha, get some blankets, it’s happened again!” 
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futuristichedge · 7 months
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htub · 10 months
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I really like that they made Jor-El speak Kryptonian and Clark unable to understand him. The whole "aliens speak English" thing that happens in every goddamn media has bothered me all my life. Ik sometimes Clark just gets zapped in the brain for insta-second language but that always felt like a cheap shortcut.
Jor-El had a lot on his mind when he set up that magic spaceship okay. The world was ending and he was trying to do as much as he could before time ran out so he could be there for his son. He was rushing. He likely didn't consider Kal would be raised with a whole different language and not know any Kryptonian nor have anyone to teach him.
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faeriekit · 1 month
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The Foster Mother
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Now on ao3 and VHS release
There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.
“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.
“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”
…Alright.
Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.
Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.
And then Tim walked into the room.
And then Jazzy was there.
*
Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.
She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.
She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.
Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.
(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)
Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.
The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.
She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.
Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.
She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.
Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.
She looked up when he came in.
Tim. Stopped in his tracks.
It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.
“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.
She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!
“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“
“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.
Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.
(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)
She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.
He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.
“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”
Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.
“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”
Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”
Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?
“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”
Which. Whiplash. What a statement.
“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.
Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”
“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”
“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”
Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.
Jazzy waited patiently.
“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.
Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”
It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—
—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.
She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.
“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.
He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.
Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.
It was for the best.
“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”
…Tim’s heart skipped.
He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…
Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?
And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!
“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”
She handed him the backpack by the handle.
…Tim peeked inside.
On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.
And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.
Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.
Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.
It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.
Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.
Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.
“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“
“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.
“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”
Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.
“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!
“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”
Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.
And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.
Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.
He swallowed.
Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.
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turtleblogatlast · 22 days
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Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water
Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#bless their hearts but they’re nasty#it’s funny because like#each and every one of them has moments#where they’re a typical disgusting teenage boy#and then the next they have STANDARDS#can’t blame Leo for being so determined to go to a spa#even if he nearly licked his own foot that’s prob cleaner than anything else the boys have been up to in years 💀#thank you shelldon for all your hard work cleaning after then 🙏#they’re all gross teenage boys!!!#even Donnie he is NO exception here#bro was DRINKING A BEVERAGE while wading through sewer water he is just as gross as his bros#bro also talks with his mouth full he is no more refined than his equally gross bros fr and I love it#but yeah no way that water isn’t disgusting even filtering it would still leave grime on the walls of the sewer for yearsss#pros of them moving into an abandoned subway system is fixing their sense of smell enough to not be as gross#100% that’s part of why they didn’t mind being so filthy pre shelldon#because I mean they were literally raised in the sewers and they’re teenage boys like that’s a double whammy#THEY ALSO DONT WEAR SHOES#the few times any of them do the shoes are discarded before heading home 💀#I love them tho they are endearing anyhow#April’s immune system must be godlike just being around them fr#honestly no joke Mikey’s probably the cleanest of them all#just by virtue of being a chef#Leo I see as a mixture since he no doubt loves to pamper himself so he’s clean like#a percentage of time before he goes out and ruins his own hard work#Donnie is similar in that he’s just VERY SELECTIVE about what he thinks is too gross#Raph may be more on the stinky end but it’s not his fault he has his stinks and eats things of dubious origin(esp since his bros ate poison)#Donnie and Leo really have the gall to be sick about Raph eating the origami salami but they have no room to talk#all their villains are prob like please stay away from us we have salmonella now
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clowndensation · 1 year
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thinking about connor in prague saying "dad's theory was you got two fighting dogs, you send the weak one away, you punish the weak one." in relation to this episode, and the way the siblings view abuse inside their own family.
shiv and kendall and their belief that connor and roman are the weak dogs that got the brunt of logan's worst behavior, because abuse is reserved for the kids who can't behave - the ones who aren't smart and mature enough to make it in the world. abuse evokes pity, because abuse is what happens when you expect too much from people who obviously aren't capable of more.
and then they go forward in life, believing that they're just naturally more intelligent and more capable than connor and roman, as if being raised seeing what happens to you if you aren't a perfect child wasn't the entire point of the "punish the weak dog" mentality that logan instilled in them. the looming threat implied behind any praise they do receive that tacitly tells them "you're not like roman and connor" because everyone knows what happens to roman and connor.
the absolute height of the rich capitalist mindset. "we're succeeding because of our own merit, and other people fail because they don't have what it takes" when in reality they're succeeding because of arbitrary rules made up by someone who knows that infighting makes meaner dogs.
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bluerosefox · 7 months
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Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.
Okay hear me out..
Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.
Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.
Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.
All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..
Hugs Danny.
And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"
And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...
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littlebitofdnd · 1 month
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Sandra-Lynn and Sklonda are having a "What Do We Do About Kristen" phone call as we speak
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