#threatening thing he owns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

duskyashe · 1 year

Text

NaNoWriMo Day #20

[masterlist] [part one]

=============‹«⟨··•|^^^|•··⟩»›=============

There wasn't outright panic. The League was too good for that, her father demanded nothing less. There were, however, a lot more frantic runners and assassins on guard. Somehow, someone had gotten through all their defenses, all their traps and trained sentries and her, and kidnapped the Demon Head's heir from right under their noses. And they had gotten away. No one even had any clue when the kidnapping had even happened; they hadn't discovered anything was wrong until breakfast, when Damian had failed to show after being summoned.

Talia Al Ghul stood in the eye of the deceptively calm storm that was the League of Assassins. One wrong move, one wrong breath, and everything she had worked for, everything she was, was liable to go up in flames. Her son was missing, and no one knew how it had happened. If she wasn't terrified for her own life, she'd have taken her fury at the sentries incompetence out on them already. It was their duty—

"Milady! The guest quarters are empty!"

No. He wouldn't. But he did, didn't he.

"Gather the troops, we're headed to Gotham," Talia snarled, stalking out of the chamber, barely hanging onto her temper by her fingertips.

I pray you're ready, beloved. Your son has declared war on the League.

=============‹«⟨··•|^^^|•··⟩»›=============

He tensed, stupidly, as soon as he woke up, more than half expecting pain to greet him. Instead, what greeted him was a poke to the face. Hard, but not painfully so. Screwing his face up in confusion, Jason opened his eyes, blinking furiously as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. There was a kid staring at him. A mini B, with darker skin and green eyes perhaps, but Jason had seen the older family pictures, the ones from before Batman was ever even a pipedream. The kid in front of him, who was staring at him with wary curiosity, finger still extended as though to poke him again, looked exactly like B did at three years old.

"Who are you?" Jason rasped, confused. He knew Bruce didn't have a kid, so where— "Where-wait-what—" taking the room in, really taking the room in, told Jason two very important facts. One, he wasn't with the League anymore, and two, where he was looked like any other apartment bedroom he'd ever been in. Well, except for the strange looking medical equipment, of course. How do I know it's—?

The door behind the kid that he hadn't paid attention to opened, and a guy about Dickie's age walked in. He looked like a cross between Superman and Jason, which was something he'd never thought he'd ever have to think about. Tall, strong, one heck of a presence, but with messy, unkempt black hair, clear blue eyes with caution in them, and freckles lightly dusting his nose and cheeks. He also, Jason noted as he distractedly noticed the mini B hopped down to hug the guy, felt safe. His presence, while intimidating at first, felt like a cool summer breeze while lazing about the manor gardens, reading his favorite book while B sat nearby reading a newspaper. He felt like a guiding hand, a comforting hug, a protective shield—he just... He felt safe.

"Hey, there," the guy said with a small grin. "Glad to see you awake. My name's Danny, this little guy is Damian, you're in my apartment in Amity Park, Illinois." Bright blue briefly flared pit green and Jason felt his own eyes flash back. "And though we're trying to get in contact with your legal guardian so we can explain some things, cuz I am not going to be like Vlad about this, I just gotta say, well, I've waited a long time to say this. Welcome home, Jason. Welcome home."

=============‹«⟨··•|^^^|•··⟩»›=============

I DID IT! TWO PARTS OF A FIC WITHIN A CALENDAR WEEK! WITHIN DAYS OF EACH OTHER! AHHH THIS MUST BE A MIRACLE! *ahem* Sorry about that, I, ah, got carried away (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ it's... Been awhile since I've done this, writing "chapters" of a fic and posting them as I write them, and it's been even longer since I've managed to do it within a week of each other... It's... Nice, in a way lol

This ficlet is dedicated to kyrianclawraith, whom I apparently cannot tag in this post, for giving me the motivation to actually write this continuation, like I'd been thinking about but not seriously considering yet. Thank you, friend, for your kind words! (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ You rock.

@draconicalvara, @fisticuffsatapplebees, @onyxlightdragon, and @sachabakkerr all asked to be tagged in the continuation, so here y'all go! Hope you liked it (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

Have a good morning/day/night!

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dp x dc #fanfic #dp crossover #dp au #fanfiction #nanowrimo 2022 #NaNoWriMo Day 20 #dp/dc week 2022 #i don't know enough about the LoA to feel confident in writing the actual springing of the boys #the basics are Danny portaled into the room they're been Jason in #used the three most basic ghost powers to track Jason down #and found an adorable little kid with enough ecto exposure to make him liminal threatening him with a little knife #kids don't belong in that kind of place #especially not liminal or halfa ones #so Danny kinda just. took both boys and decided he now has a viable line of succession #Jason with an obsession close enough to his own for their cores to resonate across the world from each other #and Damian as the liminal backup heir in case things REALLY hit the fan #they're both his sons now but like Danny said #he ain't gonna be like VLAD about it #Jason should still technically have a legal guardian #and Damian looks oddly familiar to Danny #like he's seen those facial expressions before #so he's willing to bet the toddler has family stateside that might actually give a crap about the kid's safety #so Sam Tuck and Jazz are helping Danny track down Jason's guardians while ALSO trying to figure out why Damian looks so familiar #meanwhile in Gotham the LoA seem to have completely lost their own program and are making almost worryingly noticable moves #not enough for the public to notice. but enough for the big bad bat. poor Bruce. he's just trying to grieve his son

167 notes · View notes

anormalkidingotham · 7 months

Text

okay but why did i just have to deliver food (some weird pasta dish, i think) to the penguin IN HIS OWN RESTAURANT?!

#shouldn't they have their own food there?#i guess he just really wanted pasta #and they were out or something #he did threaten me #but he also tipped a lot #so it's fine #the penguin is actually surprisingly nice #when he isn't threatening to kill you #the penguin #just gotham city things #only in gotham #unreality

31 notes · View notes

wolfeyedwitch · 2 months

Text

Me: *experiences unpleasant things from People Being Crazy*

My inner whump writer: *takes notes about the feelings for more accurate future writing*

#whump #whump writing #whump humor #someone went really nuts on me and i set a boundary and now they have cut all contact #i dont regret it #my mental health has to come first #a guy put me in the girlfriend zone #i firmly said i didnt want a romantic relationship #i thought we'd be ok just being friends #but he kept pushing for more interaction even when i said i didnt have the spoons #and he basically threatened me with his own mental health to get me to respond #which is Extremely Not Okay #i told him in the nicest terms possible to cut that shit out #because it was triggering me (and i dont say that lightly)#and now its radio silence and he deleted all the previous messages he ever setn #which is LITERAL MONTHS OF MESSAGES #and the whole thing was this surreal mess of slowly sinking further into my time being absorbed by him #whether it was intentional or not is pretty much irrelevant at that point #he was really messing w my head #and if he takes me nicely setting a boundary as a reason to cut contact? then NO CONTACT #and yeah. i have more ideas of how bailey got in so deep w supervillain now #it didnt feel like a slippery slope until i was looking back at where i came from #essay in tags

14 notes · View notes

and-stir-the-stars · 9 months

Note

saffron pawn evan, a dark silhouette in the doorway of mike's bedroom: *staring like a cat*

mike, praying he wasn't starting back up with the Knife Threat Thing: ...yea, ev?

evan: 😐 sorry your life sucks

mike:

mike: ???? sorry yours sucks too??

“Come on… Just… sleep…!”

Exhausted words tumbled from Michael’s lips, groaning at himself as his dark blue gaze stared listlessly through the cracks in the crumpled white paint on the ceiling.

It wasn’t that hard. All you had to do was just close your eyes and not think about anything, right?

Mike tossed and turned on the bed. The scratchy, cheap covers tangled against his limbs as he tried to decide whether he should keep pretending to be trying to fall asleep or if he should just get up and try doing something productive for once.

The realization came to him gradually, like a deep sea mine drifting closer and closer to shore with every wave on the tide.

The kid– no, the adult, young adult, that’s what he was, now– flipped from one side of the bed to another. He kicked the covers off, the oppressive heat dampening his skin with a suffocating layer of sweat, before quickly throwing them back on twenty seconds later.

His skin crawled and he swallowed down a lump in his throat, wincing at the painful reminder that he should have drank a glass of water before heading to bed.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut with more force than was necessary.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. He had to be up early for work tomorrow, so why the hell couldn’t he fall asleep? The world’s easiest task, and yet here he was, failing miserably.

Typical.

A pit formed in Mike’s stomach. Hard and angry, aching and heavy, like someone had replaced his insides with bricks.

Michael’s entire body tensed as he recognized the feeling.

Ignoring the sudden, panicked light-headedness and the saliva thickening in his throat as though he might vomit at any moment, Mike’s eyes snapped open and his sharp blue gaze flitted around the room on instinct, searching for the danger.

It was dark in the room, of course. Not just because it was three in the morning, but because Mike needed it to be pitch black to fall asleep. His curtains stayed drawn and his door was always shut, blocking out any possible sources of light, because if there was any light at all then Michael would stay up all night staring at it as though afraid it might disappear at any moment. It was best to just be engulfed in darkness from the very start, in Michael’s opinion.

Michael blinked the exhaustion from his eyes as his gaze snapped from one part of his room to the next, looking for whatever it was that had set off his sixth sense. Mike had learned a long time ago not to ignore that sixth sense. Better to be safe than sorry.

His panicked gaze must have passed over the doorway three times before his brain finally registered what was wrong.

His bedroom door was wide open.

A human-shaped patch of shadow darker than the rest of the blackness stalked in the threshold.

Michael jumped, his mind supplying the shadow with a million faces that had hurt him over the years.

The shadow stayed perfectly still.

It took Michael several panicked breaths to finally realize his mistake.

It wasn’t just a human-shaped shadow.

Evan. Evan, leaning in the threshold, with one hand wrapped anxiously around the doorway, just like he had done when they were both little kids, when Evan had had a nightmare and would stand in Mike’s doorway debating whether Mike would get mad if he came inside.

Evan’s pale face shone in the darkness. Mike wondered how long Evan had been standing there and how he could have missed seeing his brother in the threshold, even with the dark pajamas keeping the rest of Evan’s frame hidden in the darkness. If Mike had squinted at Evan’s face, he would have been able to make out the dull gleam of Evan’s eyes, but it wasn’t Evan’s face that Mike was looking at.

No, Michael’s gaze jerked between Evan’s sides, looking for any semblance of a metallic gleam as the memory of waking up to a knife at his throat made the older Afton’s blood freeze in his veins.

Michael hadn’t known what had been worse: the frighteningly cold press of the metal against his skin, the warm trickle of blood down his neck from the knife nicking him as Mike struggled, the bone-chilling horror at the realization of what Evan had tried to do, or seeing the agony that had been splayed on Evan’s face as Ev realized that he couldn’t kill his older brother the same way he killed all those animals in the woods outside.

Mike’s fingers white-knuckled against the scratchy blankets. He forced one shaky breath down his throat after another. The oxygen burned his throat with every breath as he checked Evan’s hands again, trying hard to pretend that Evan finding his way into Mike’s room in the dead of night, armed with anger and fists and sharp nails and teeth and occasionally with a kitchen knife that Mike stupidly hadn’t properly locked away, wasn’t a semi-regular occurrence.

(Maybe Michael should have kept his door locked at night. No, there was no maybe about it– he definitely should have it locked. But he couldn’t, because what if Evan needed him and couldn’t get in because Mike had decided to be selfish?)

Evan hadn’t moved an inch. The teen’s face stayed blank, utterly blank, as he stared at Michael through the darkness.

Slowly, Mike peeled himself from the mattress and propped himself up on his elbows. “Y-Yeah, Ev?”

Evan’s green gaze tracked Michael as he moved. Silence weighed heavily in the air, and Michael’s gaze slipped down to Evan’s suspiciously empty hands again.

Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t do that again, Michael begged even as another voice in his head whispered that he was a fool for expecting anything else.So what if Evan gave him a little scare? So what if Evan hurt him? Of course he deserved anything Evan would do to him. And Evan never came into Michael’s room like this for any other reason.

Finally, after much too many panicked heartbeats pounding inside Michael’s chest, something happened.

A nervous gleam flashed in Evan’s eyes, as well as something else, something deep and troubled and terrified that Mike didn’t quite know how to name. The corners of Evan’s lips twitched, dipping downward into the smallest frown.

“...Sorry that your life sucks.”

The words left Evan’s throat in a voiceless mumble. It took Michael a moment to piece the near-silent mumbles into words, and even when he did, he could only blink at his little brother, certain that he must have misheard.

Michael’s lips fluttered soundlessly.

Ever since their argument a few days ago about why Mike had left alone when he ran away from the Afton household, Evan had been asking to know more and more about what had happened after he ran away.

And Michael had been answering his questions. Kind of. Just telling Evan about the lighter stuff that had happened and the things that were so commonplace that Mike had quickly grown used to them; so used to them that he could talk about them without his voice shaking and breaking apart.

Outside of the occasional confused frown, Evan hadn’t reacted to the stories Mike had told all that much.

Maybe Michael had taken the lack of reaction as affirmation that his “traumatic” stories weren’t actually all that bad.

Maybe that was why Michael was so flabbergasted now.

“Um…” Mike winced as his voice cracked on the single syllable. His tongue pressed against the backs of his front teeth, his brain trying to stutter out a sincere confused ‘thank you?’ before the elder Afton squashed the urge down and struggled to come up with another response.. “...Sorry yours sucks too?”

Evan’s frown deepened, but outside of that, Evan had no reaction to Michael’s quiet response.

The two of them stared at each other in a silence that seemed to last forever.

Mike shifted in his bed, uncomfortable with all the staring, but Ev didn’t seem to notice. He stayed locked in place in the threshold, his eyes locked on Mike as though searching for something.

“Did you… need something?” Mike finally asked. His brain wandered once again to when they were both little, when toddler Evan would stand in his door after a nightmare until Mike hissed at him to go. “Did you want to come in…?”

Despite the darkness, Mike didn’t need to see it to know that, across the room, Evan tensed. The audible, sharp inhale that ripped past Evan’s lips clued Mike in on that. That unusual– nowadays it was unusual, at least– tender, nervous gleam left Evan’s eyes at once, his face carefully smoothing over as he took a step back, away from Michael.

The last thing Michael saw of Evan was his head shaking ‘no’ before he took another step back and disappeared, consumed by the shadows lurking in the hallway.

#it's one am so this might not be good but it definitely exists now. so.#enjoy. or don't.#do with it what you will #saffron pawn au #kats scribbles #god mike's life really does suck #ran away from home so he could finally be safe. proceeds to NOT be safe as he's out on the streets #finally gets his feet under him only to once again not be safe in *his own home*#and yet he's too scared to tell anyone about evan threatening him or the animal killings bc this is #evan's only shot at a semi-normal life and mike is terrified of what they'll do to ev if anyone else finds out #i mean things get better but... damn.

31 notes · View notes

scoobydoodean · 7 months

Note

I see this held up as major proof of Dean's badness, but couldn't it also be proof of Cas having faith Dean can get past anything without Cas having to change his behavior? The way it's structured the onus is on DEAN to work through it, not others to change or make amends. ---- CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on.

I see what you mean in a general sense, and it's extremely possible that Cas is thinking about his own past fights with Dean and Dean forgiving him, and from the perspective of the critique you have in mind that you're refuting, I agree. But of course deancrit casgirls will forever insist that Cas has never in his life done anything harmful to Dean either accidentally or on purpose, so any time Dean might dare try to hold him accountable for anything, he's actually just making shit up and being toxic and controlling, so here Cas is just apologizing for his own abusive relationship. You can only get their take by being deliberately obtuse/disingenuous.

That said, the context of that line (from 15.13 "Destinty's Child") is Cas answering soulless Jack's question about whether Dean will eventually forgive him for murdering Mary.

CASTIEL: Hey, Jack. JACK: Cas, you know what's good about being dead? CASTIEL: Uh, as I recall, very little. JACK: Well, when you come back, you – you really get into all that life is. Hot, cold, sweet, spicy, funny, scary. CASTIEL: And are you? "Into it"? JACK: I want to be. But I don't... feel things the way I used to. Before I lost my... CASTIEL: Your soul. JACK: I used to feel things. In my bones. It was glorious, and sometimes unbearable. But I felt them. Now, I understand joy or sadness, but... I know those things aren't in me. I understand why Sam and Dean were angered by what happened to Mary... CASTIEL: By what you did to Mary. JACK: Yes. I see that I've caused them pain. And it's clear that things have changed. Especially with – with Dean. Will he ever forgive me? CASTIEL: You know, Dean, he – he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known. So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on. JACK: How long will that take? CASTIEL: I don't know.

And yeah—I have seen people refer to Cas's little speech here as "condoning child abuse" and other bullshit. Because how DARE Dean not forgive soulless Jack for murdering his mother (something soulless Jack is unable to actually really acknowledge he did). I mean clearly any time someone murders your mom because she made them mad and threatened their sense of security by asking if they're okay and saying their concerning actions can’t stay a secret… That’s just natural understandable stuff! You need to forgive the person who murdered her instantly and if you don’t idk you’re kinda overreacting don’t you think? :/ I mean your mom probably deserved it kind of anyway for reading the room so wrong and talking about getting a person help. And I mean if you don't forgive the person who killed your mom or do anything trying to stop them from hurting more people you're really a child abuser... toward an adult... who murdered your mother in cold blood and is unable to even understand why it was wrong in any sense other than an intellectual one like he read it from a book... preferring to refer to it as "What happened to Mary" instead of acknowledge it as something he himself did because he was mad and felt threatened—which is what he circled back to in "Jack In The Box" too. It's only when Jack gets his soul back that he's able to actually feel true empathy, acknowledge his real actions and the gravity of them, and give an actual sincere apology. Because his soul is actually important—something this fandom refuses, by and large, to notice.

Anyway, this fandom's take on Mary's murder and soulless Jack vs. regular Jack is overwhelmingly a bag of wet third grader vomit and feces so what can one expect?

#mail #soulless jack killing mary is popularly regarded as an accident... but it's pretty transparent that it wasn't?#or rather it was on purpose but he regretted it the second after it happened. but that is still. Something he chose to do. Not an accident.#He saw her as a threat to his relationship with Sam and Dean and he acted.#This is indicated right before he kills her. He admits it outright also right before calling it an accident which unravels that whole idea.#It wasn’t pre-meditated but in that moment he wanted her to die. She was going to tell everyone there was something wrong with him.#And he did not want that.#It wasn't an accident and he can't handle his own culpability because it threatens his belief that he can make things be the way they were #before it happened. Which is why he killed her to begin with! He didn't want anyone to know/think anything was wrong with him!#And just like soulless Jack just wants everyone to forget about it and act like nothing happened and he's fine...#Many fans want Dean to forget about it. They want Dean to believe and say and feel and think that Mary did not matter.#And that being upset at her literal murder (even if it was an accident—which it was not) is bad and evil.#And Sam's great capacity for numbness (which we already saw in season 13) strengthen's their own lack of empathy for Dean #in a situation that in real life they would understand unless they're actual psychopaths.#It's only because Dean is a character in a narrative representing the need/capacity to be loved and accepted at all #that these demands that his thoughts and feelings bend to everyone else's emotional needs become so disturbingly intrusive #dont feed the stans after midnight #and cas is my best friend #hot girl cas

21 notes · View notes