#he is terrifying though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, Tumblr had 29.4 million users in the US.

#he is terrifying though

piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

i wonder if the cast ever found Flayed Billy to be absolutely terrifying to act with. I'm rewatching ST out of boredom and i'm at battle of starcourt now and Dacre is terrifying as Flayed Billy.

Like Dacre is super charming and clearly an absolute sweetheart but Flayed Billy is honestly terrifying.

His strength, the predatorial way he reacts to things, that one scene where El tries to push him back in the mall and he just slams her head back against the wall then throws her against the other wall, the efficiency with which he takes them all down one by one, like they're nothing to him. They're completely defenseless against him and his strength.

Facing that kind of ferocity even acting has got to be at least a little intimidating.

The Flayer picked one hell of a host when it came to Billy, Will was clearly taken through necessity, Will was the only one who could walk between the worlds, he was the only one accessible at that time.

but given the choice of host... it knows how to pick em.

#dont mind me just admiring the efficiency with which Billy just tears through Max Mike and El in that little corridor #like damn dude #you did not have to go that hard #i know billy is a sensitive subject but c'mon #y'all should be able to admire that efficiency #c'mon #it's beautiful #he is terrifying though

139 notes · View notes

hypewinter · 11 months

Text

After Danny exposed Vlad and his corrupt dealings, the older halfa got the last laugh by getting his blacklists from all engineering jobs. Desperate for a job Danny ends up applying for a personal assistant position and he actually gets it. It only takes him a week to see how detached Bruce Wayne is from his own company. AND he has his 16 year old son running it as CEO!? No way is he letting that slide.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #hyper prompts #there's nowhere bruce can go that danny can't find him #his pa is the one person other than alfred that he's actually terrified of #also i imagine the rest of danny's family quickly follows him to gotham #jazz naturally begins working at arkham #a reformed dan opens up a restaurant in crime alley that doubles as a soup kitchen #and ellie helps him out while also doing a bunch of odd jobs around the city #whatever flights her fancy for the day #the bats don't know whether to put them on some sort of supervillain watchlist #or just watch the chaos unfold #it is hilarious seeing bruce squirm though

2K notes · View notes

justwannabecat · 1 year

Text

Prompt: The reason why most of the Batfam are so bad at healthy communication is because most of them have briefly died/have been near death enough times to become dead-adjacent.

For years they’ve each been trying to share their thoughts and feelings telepathically, as ghosts do, but because they themselves aren’t ghosts, or at least with a healthy supply of ectoplasm, they can’t get any signals. As a result they each subconsciously feel like they’re being very clear with what they want and how they feel, but constantly feel ignored in return.

Through whatever series of events, Danny is adopted into the family. At first they think he’s just really good at reading people. Then they realize that it’s not just Danny who’s doing it.

(Danny’s just trying to be nice. It’s helping shed all his excess ectoplasm, after all, and also feeding these obviously hungry developing Liminals. The fact that it’s repairing their family as well just makes it the perfect gift to thank everyone.)

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #batfam #emotional constipation #except it’s different now #from a family fix-it to mild body horror as they absorb ectoplasm #even if it just gives them glowing eyes and sharper teeth #it’s still terrifying to them because they don’t know why it’s happening #do they know danny is the ghost king? probably not #do they know he’s a ghost? also probably not #they at least know he has powers though #so there’s that

3K notes · View notes

silverskye13 · 23 days

Note

random thought, but i had a vivid image of, if helsknight and welsknight ever saw each other without armor (or just helsknight out of his armor tbh), helsknight showing welsknight the scar tanguish gave him and saying "this was intended for you."

i don't know how in character that is, but tbh it's haunting me. maybe it's part of helsknight's revenge against welsknight or something, calling out his unknightly behavior and unhonorable conduct.

"You didn't answer my summons."

Helsknight froze. It was a quick, momentary startle, a short-circuit of normality. The moment he did it, every instinct told him to keep moving. That old command [Do something.] blared loud in the quiet surprise of his mind. So he moved his hand to pick up the brush on his table, and pretended to be unconcerned.

"I'm not a dog. You can't call me to heel," Helsknight said simply. He smirked and growled, "Though if you feel like losing some limbs, feel free to try."

Behind him, Wels shifted uncomfortably. Helsknight liked making Wels uncomfortable, he didn't handle it well. He was a creature used to comfort and ease. Inconvenience often galled him more than a sword to the throat. Different tactics for different battlefields, and this battlefield was a delicate one.

Helsknight was cleaning his arms and armor, which was one of several reasons why he hasn't leaped for a fight when Welsknight had called him to one. He was only in a tunic and breeches. It was luck he even had his boots on. He had offered to run errands with Tanguish, but Tanguish had said he was visiting his church and wanted to go on rooftops. So Helsknight stayed home, and he left his boots on. That was the other reason Helsknight hadn't answered the call: Tanguish wouldn't know where he was, and he knew Tanguish got paranoid about being left behind. Besides, Helsknight had chores he could do at home [like cleaning his arms and armor] so he stayed. Cleaning the chainmail was almost a formality. Hels was hot and dry, and he wore it often enough that the rings clattering together cleaned themselves. But sometimes he just liked putting an extra shine on things, so he took out his brush and oil and started brushing it down for any miniscule specks of rust or broken links he could find.

Wels, always keen on the times he wasn't wanted, decided now was the perfect time to show up in his living room. He stood awkwardly, waiting on Helsknight to make some aggressive movement. When none came, he cautiously stalked further into the tiny living space. His emotions were loud and uncomfortable without the distance between their respective worlds to dampen them, and they clung like smoke against Helsknight's skin. Caution at an unfamiliar space. Disgruntlement at being ignored.

[Guilt, like ash on a burn.]

"Is this... Yours?" Wels asked, glancing around.

"No, I'm just squatting in a random house. Sounded like a fun way to spend a Tuesday."

Helsknight felt the ant-bite sting of vicarious agitation and smirked. He was already getting on Wels's nerves.

[Good.]

"Couldn't build something nicer?" Wels snapped impatiently.

"I'm a fighter."

Helsknight found a place on his chainmail to brush down and got to work. The rough, grating twinge of the coarse bristles on chain made Wels wince. Helsknight always found the noise pleasant. Like scratching an itch.

"So?"

"I have better things to do than spend hours building the perfect house."

Wels scoffed and looked around the room with renewed disdain. "Where's your little devil?"

It took Helsknight a moment to place what he was asking. He sneered, a quiet bearing of teeth, and caught the flicker of red in the reflective shine of his chainmail. Wels looked pointedly away from him.

[Like ash on a burn.]

"Not feeling remorse... are we, crusader?" Helsknight asked, finding a new place to polish. The coin-drop clatter of chain, and the shrill scrape of bristles filled the silence like an accusation.

"Of course not," Wels sniffed disdainfully, still refusing to meet Helsknight's eye.

"Careful." Helsknight murmured, that red flash reflecting off his chainmail again, anger simmering. "Lying's a sin."

"Why would I feel remorse for protecting my home?"

"A crusade well fought I'm sure."

"It's not a crusade!" Wels snapped, his own anger a living thing raising hackles. "A crusader invades! A crusader fights a holy war just for the principle."

"Right. And you're fighting because--"

"Because I'm protecting Tango."

"-because it's for his own good?"

Wels didn't exactly wince, but he did still, as though he'd heard someone draw a blade from its scabbard. Helsknight might as well have unseated his sword. He had stopped scrubbing, all pretense of work falling. The need to pace, to circle, to corner, rose up in Helsknight like a waking beast.

"Interesting choice of words. Protecting." Helsknight said, his voice low, his hands still. "I was under the impression they were friends. Do you often protect Tango from the people he's begging you to spare?"

"That doesn't matter." Wels said so firmly it was almost convincing. Almost. "People are convinced they need an abusive relationship. That doesn't change the fact it's bad for them."

"So many interesting words today," Helsknight hissed. He stood like a dark tower rising, all embered fury slowly stoking. Wels didn't bother turning to face him. He could feel his intent like thunder. "Abuse. Brings to mind the image of power. I do have a question."

"I didn't come here for your stupid questions."

"No, you came here looking for a fight."

"I didn't."

"You really do need to tame that lying tongue."

"I didn't come here for a fight."

"Did it feel powerful?" Helsknight demanded, pacing a step, and loathing the tiny room for denying him the space to circle. "The voice. The command. How did it feel."

"Shut up."

"To have someone begging you not to hurt them," Helsknight continued relentlessly. "Not your stupid play fighting on your stupid little server. True, shaking, terror. Did it feel good, crusader? Just?"

"I told you to shut up!" Wels shouted, taking a threatening step forward only to find Helsknight had closed the space between them and stood looming like a rook on a tombstone.

Fear, a caged thing howling, battered against Helsknight's anger. It made Helsknight feel almost giddy, the crash of malicious schadenfreude and self-righteousness against Wels; a flickering thing of brittle will. They made a terrible ouroboros together, fear feeding anger feeding elation feeding fear. They were always like this. No matter how calm either of them tried to be, once anger kindled in one, their emotions burned until there was nothing left but fury and loathing. Helsknight had been made to cut Wels down to size.

"Do you know what that kind of fear does to people?" Helsknight demanded again, his voice so near a whisper it was smothering. They were so close together, but they made so little noise, all will and wide eyes. "What happened to mercy for the helpless, crusader?"

"He wasn't helpless," Welsknight said, trying very hard not to back down. "He stabbed me."

"And a drowning rat bites. I wouldn't call it an apex predator. Certainly I wouldn't call it a danger to you, with your full armor and sword." Helsknight bared his teeth at Wels, something like a bitter grin. "I wasn't wearing armor."

Wels looked down, where Helsknight had drawn up his tunic to reveal the new scar in his abdomen. Wels looked like he'd stopped breathing.

"This was intended for you," Helsknight said. "You should thank me."

"You're-- you're here telling me he's harmless," Wels laughed nervously. "But he almost killed you. You."

Something in Helsknight snapped, and in the moment it took him to reach for it with white knuckles and compose it again, he'd shoved Wels hard in the chest. It didn't knock his other half off his feet, but he stumbled back hard enough hit the opposite wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to warn.

"He did," Helsknight snarled, pacing forward slow steps. "That's what terror does to helpless people, crusader. It makes them bite. It makes them beg. It makes them clamor to live. You. Did. That. What did it feel like to abuse that kind of power Wels? To turn someone into a scared animal? To make someone so desperate they would almost kill a friend? Did you find your righteousness there crusader?"

Helsknight didn't know what he planned on doing. Violence was in his blood like a serpent, and he wanted it. And Wels knew he wanted it. There was the ring of drawn metal, and the silver-bright glint of an enchanted blade in a dark room. Helsknight's advance stopped at the top of Wels's sword, not close enough to hurt, but close enough to warn.

"Stop." Wels said. A command. A plea.

"I'm unarmed."

"That doesn't matter."

Helsknight smiled, and there was loathing and euphoria in it, and the wine-dark dread of Wels right on the other side of it. The knowledge of a line crossed, a battle he hadn't even realized he was fighting made forfeit.

"Fine." Helsknight said. "My blood's already been spilled once on your behalf. At least this time do it with your own sword, coward. I'll make it easy for you."

He took a step forward, and nudged the blade with a knuckle, resting the point against his scar. The metal was cold, even through his shirt, the enchantments alive and writhing so close to his skin.

"How cruel have you gotten while I wasn't there to keep you in check, crusader?"

There was a long breath of silence between them. Helsknight stood, precarious and predatory, daring Wels to kill him. And Wels stood there, and dared himself to as well. And the room was dark, lit only by red anger and blue dread, and the pale, languid flicker of enchanted steel. And neither of them breathed. And the universe watched.

A loud clatter sounded on the roof. Both knights looked up towards the ceiling, Wels in startlement, and Helsknight in resignation.

"And he stays my hand once again," Helsknight sighed.

"What--?" Wels didn't get his full question out before Helsknight moved. He knocked the sword aside and lunged forward to grab Wels's shirt. In a move that would've made Martyn proud, he dragged Wels forward into his knee, knocking the wind out of him. In the time it took Wels to collapse to the floor, Helsknight had taken his sword, and held the point beneath his other half's chin.

"Go home Wels," Helsknight said, "before I send you there the hard way."

Wels, breathless on the ground, let out half a strangled laugh. "Why don't you?"

"Because I was asked nicely not to go running off and killing you."

"Helsknight?" A loud knock sounded at the door. Tanguish's voice, a bright comfort even in spite of its concern, called to him. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard something fall."

Helsknight glared meaningfully down at Wels, who only hesitated long enough for Helsknight to draw back the sword before slipping back to his world. The moment he did, Helsknight felt his breath leave him, the great void of being left to his own thoughts and emotions. In the wake of everything that was Wels, he felt ridiculous.

[What in hels had he even been about to do? Die on someone's sword to prove a point? Idiot.]

"Helsknight? The door is locked."

"I'm coming," Helsknight called, pausing only long enough to hide Wels's sword beneath the couch, where Tanguish couldn't see it and inevitably worried about it. He checked his tunic to make sure he hadn't managed to actually stab himself [he hadn't] and went to let Tanguish inside.

#rns ficlets #helsknight #welsknight #tanguish (kinda)#this one feels very dense and dramatic #i feel like wels actively seeks out hels when he feels guilty / bad / self loathing #its like a compulsion: punishing yourself because you did wrong #even though its ultimately unproductive #also something something helsknight making some kind of point about how #instilling terror in something to confirm your bias that its dangerous #is more even than the terrified thing causing harm #case and point i scared you into drawing your sword on an unarmed man #i dont know im tired and that was a really badass phrase to just drop on me anon #*evil not even alskdjfjf im going to bed

195 notes · View notes

journal-from-the-heart · 6 months

Text

i think, for trauma survivors, especially those who were emotionally abused, invalidated, or gaslit, it is really important not to underestimate the significance of speaking bluntly about what happened to you. Forcing yourself not to beat around the bush, not to downplay what you went through with your words. say what happened, without any caveats, without any “but it could’ve been worse”, “but i might just be being overdramatic”, “but it wasn’t really THAT bad,” and so forth. sit with the discomfort until you can begin to let yourself realize that it WAS that bad, you WERENT being overdramatic, and even if it could’ve been worse you still didn’t deserve it. It’s almost like a form of reclamation, taking back your memories, taking back your life, even the difficult or gross parts, and refusing to let anyone change the narrative or tell you how you should feel anymore, even yourself. and it hurts and it’s scary and it feels weird and awkward and sometimes you want to convince yourself you’re lying, but i think sitting in those weird feelings and letting yourself admit that you really did go through trauma puts the power back in your hands to process things and be compassionate to yourself while you heal

#like. recently i’ve been reflecting a lot on this trauma i have with this absolutely godawful english teacher i had in grade 7 #he was an absolute creep and even though he never touched me i knew he touched other girls and made even creepier comments to them #than he did to me. and i never really had time to fully understand the gravity of the damage he did to me because i was #so focused on the fact that it could’ve been worse and he never even actually touched me or got that close to me save a few times #but yesterday as i was reflecting on this i finally got myself to admit. i was terrified of him and i was terrified for every fucking minute #that i spent in that class. and i was a child who never should’ve had to deal with that and it’s clear that i still have a lot of problems #from that whole event. and the more times i repeat that and get myself to understand it. the more i’m able to be compassionate to myself now #and patient with myself in the things i struggle with as a result of what happened #childhood trauma #trauma #cptsd healing #cptsd recovery #cptsdawareness #trauma survivor #trauma recovery

290 notes · View notes

demigodishniss · 24 days

Text

I made a post about this the first time I rewatched Eleven's run but it must be said again: I love his dichotomy between "fun-loving and joyful" and "angry and borderline jaded" so much. He's talented and good at putting up a front but it all crumbles away the second there's slightly too much pressure, because suddenly he's not young and easy-going at all but ancient and tired and it's taking everything in him to not let the grief he carries weigh him down or push away the people who've come to care for him, not knowing that if he did give in to it, they would absolutely love him anyway.

"He's just a silly little guy" But more importantly he's aged and tired and constantly fighting to maintain the balance between his wonder and joy for the universe and his frustrations and anger with it, and he doesn't always do that well.

I love how outwardly sweet and fun he is, but there's something about those moments when the mask slips and we're reminded that he's seen things that he never should've seen and made decisions that were too much for one person to ever make. And then for a second we see just how much weight he's actually carrying around with him and yeah, it makes sense why he'd rather not show that part of himself.

#everytime he screams in anger during season 5 it terrifies me and i just know that he'd unintentionally make me burst into nervous tears 😭#I would always feel safe around him though thsts for sure #also analyzing eleven makes me appreciate him and subsequently twelve even more and i love it #doctor who #nuwho #eleventh doctor #11th doctor #wish i could give him a hug #might go into how this relates back to twelve in my brain later

118 notes · View notes